Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 59983 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 300(@200wpm)___ 240(@250wpm)___ 200(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59983 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 300(@200wpm)___ 240(@250wpm)___ 200(@300wpm)
“I share the sentiment.”
“So it must suck that I showed up to barge in.”
He glances at me again. “I thought it was decided that you didn’t barge.”
I bite my lip. “I didn’t want that other man to fuss over me.”
“Viktor,” he says. “And he won’t fuss over you.”
I frown.
“I will.”
There’s that authority again. I jerk my face up and realize he’s smirking at me. It’s hard to get a read on him. Dominant, but not pushy or demanding. Cold, but a gentleman to care about whether I was hurt.
“You’ll fuss over me? The stranger who wrecked your car?” That’s what sticks with me most. I’ll have to pay for my car. His car. Probably something on top of that as an apology for the intrusion. And he still hasn’t acted like any of it bothers him. Maybe it’s that difference between our worlds again. The bakery’s about to go under, and my money worries never made any sense to Roman, who acted like cash grew on trees. This man probably sees it the same way, tied to the Sokolov Family like he is.
Done with bandaging my hand, he steps back and rakes his dark gaze over me again. “Come have dinner with me while we wait for reception.”
I blink at him, incredulous. Then again. “Dinner?”
He nods, crossing his arms. That command is evident again. He’s firm. But it’s not in such a manner that puts me off.
“I can’t—”
My stomach growls, making a liar out of me.
His lips kick up at one corner.
I clear my throat and lower my gaze. “I’m only here long enough to get a ride back to the city.”
“Which will be long enough to enjoy dinner with me.” Without waiting for a confirmation, he leaves the bathroom, talking as he goes. “Viktor has brought some things for you to change into. I’ll see you downstairs.”
Still perched on the edge of the vanity, I wait for this to make sense.
A sexy, older man telling me to come to dinner with him after I crashed into his car.
This enigma of a person tricking me into wishing for more of those heavy looks.
I rub my finger over the bandage he put on the back of my hand.
What is going on here?
I mean to come and go. In and out. Pick up my things and get right back to the city. And now I’m expected to participate in an impromptu dinner date?
Shaking my head slowly, I stand and check for clothes in the bedroom. There are some, and even though they’re not mine, I figure it won’t hurt to borrow them for a while. I change into them and spread my wet clothes across the bathroom vanity to dry faster.
Before I go to the first floor, I check my phone and wince.
No reception. No way to contact Jenni or my parents and let them know I’m taking longer than I anticipated.
Oh, well. There’s nothing I can do about that.
Shrugging, I let my phone drop to the bed.
I am hungry, and I smile a little at how amused Anton was when my stomach growled. Like it was one of the most natural things that could happen.
Roman’s pickiness about my shape and size was a form of bullshit I regret putting up with for as long as I did. He was anal about what I ate and grimaced whenever I let on that I was hungry. Watching calories was a chore with him. Having to fake that I was good with tiny meals wore on me.
Instead of rolling his eyes that my stomach growled in hunger, like Roman did, Anton invited me to eat with him.
Someday, I’ll let myself see how different it can be. Comparing Roman to literally any other man on this planet is something I’ll put in the category of things to do later.
Right now, though, as I exit the room and head down the stairs to catch up with Anton walking that way, I decide to escape into this moment. To be present.
“Comfortable?” he asks, noticing I’m heading the same way.
He’s dressed down, too, and now I’m caught up wondering where he changed and how close he was to me when he did. “Yes. It’s nice not to have snow down the back of my shirt.”
I bite my lip at how he’s tracking my every move. Just as I reach the step above his, the lights cut out. The dark isn’t the problem so much as the shock of it, and I step too far forward.
I trip.
I pitch forward, right into his strong arms.
He secures me against him, twisting so neither of us goes down.
The lights flicker back on while he keeps me in his embrace. His hard, hot body pressed against me. A generator probably restarted the power, and the lights come on slowly, one after another. It’s just enough light for me to gaze up at him. To be mesmerized by the lines on his rugged face, the darkness of the stubble on his jaw and chin.