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)
“We’ve established that.”
“Your family will be there.” I bite my lip.
He sighs, tugging my lip free and watching my mouth like he wants to kiss me again. “That’s true.”
“Roman will be there.”
He nods, not looking away from my mouth.
“Roman once thought he would be bringing me to this gala.”
He smiles, glancing up at my eyes. “He might have said that, but he wouldn’t have.”
“I agree. He never wanted to bring me to anything. No family events. Like I was some dirty little accessory to be tucked away out of sight.”
“His loss.” He strokes my shoulder with his thumb. “My gain.”
I can’t hide a slow smile. “I also agree. But it is strange that he recently sought me out and tried to insinuate that he’d already put my name down as his plus-one to this. And that he still expected me to go with him despite how I broke up with him.”
He grunts a wry laugh.
“He seems to think I’m some backup he can pull out whenever he wants. But then, he’s never handled not getting what he wants.”
“He’ll learn his lesson tonight.” He cups my face and kisses me. “Because you’re not a backup. You’re too good to be a second choice.”
My heart swells at his praise. It’s not just lust that he shows me, it’s something deeper. A deep appreciation I’ve never gotten from anyone before. Certainly not from Roman.
There’s no time left to fret and fuss about showing up, because in a matter of minutes, we’re there. The car pulls up, and Anton guides me out and down the carpeted path to the entrance. Flashes blink everywhere as the press snaps pictures, but I ignore all of it and focus on nothing but the feel of Anton’s hand on mine. Then, later, once we’re inside amid the whirlwind of commotion, the brush of his arm against mine.
I try not to look bewildered, but he senses it anyway.
“You are here with me, Liliana,” he says, eyes on me. “And that’s all that matters.”
I smile and nod, deciding to trust him.
It’s a trust I’ll need to rely on, because as we turn and push deeper into the crowd, Roman’s furious face is hard to miss. He’s coming right for us, scowling with rage as he jerks his gaze from his father holding my hand to my face.
“What kind of a fucking joke is this?” he demands. “Liliana? What the fuck is going on?”
Anton steps forward. It’s nothing more than a half-step in front of me, but it reads like a defensive move.
I haven’t rehearsed what to say. Secretly, I’ve indulged in fantasies of telling him off. Of laughing in his face and hitting him with some sassy line about how far I’ve moved on.
Nothing comes to me though, because behind him is a woman who has to be his mother.
The infamous Elena that Roman’s always praised and talked so highly of. I’ve never met her, but by the furious stare she shoots my way, I know this is going to turn into a disaster.
Anton takes charge though.
“Do you really think it’s wise to use that tone on my date?” Anton asks. He doesn’t give Roman a chance to reply. Instead, he grips my chin gently, tips my face up, and plants a sweet but possessive kiss on my lips.
It’s a demonstration.
He’s claiming me.
Marking his territory.
And I can’t resist a smile. I should be pissed at him using me like this, but in my heart, I know that’s not it. He didn’t bring me here as a trophy or as an example of anything. With his hot lips against mine, his hand on my back, and his baby in my belly, I feel this connection that has morphed from instant attraction into something so much more.
His soft sigh as he pulls away proves it. The look of longing and smug satisfaction on his face reinforces it.
This is what Jenni was talking about.
Anton is like my prince charming. Only, he’s not a prince; not a fairytale. He’s a king. A real man who wants me.
“Anton. Darling—”
Viktor cuts off Elena as she sweeps up close. He blocks Roman’s mother from clinging to Anton’s arm. A laugh slips out of me as Anton pivots, ushering me away.
“Handy,” I quip as he takes my hand and leads me deeper into the room.
“What is?”
“Having an assistant as a roadblock.”
He smirks and glances at me. “It’s only effective for so long.”
“Is she always like that?”
“If you mean is she always acting like she still has any claim to me, yes.” He stops abruptly and spins me into an embrace. “But perhaps the more I do this”—he kisses me, clearly thawing out enough to keep up these public displays of affection—“she’ll finally get the hint.”
“Glad I can help.” I grin as I sling my arm around his neck and pull him back down for a longer kiss.