Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 70686 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 283(@250wpm)___ 236(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70686 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 283(@250wpm)___ 236(@300wpm)
Plucking her purse from her lap, I open the damn thing and dig the ring out. I take hold of her left hand, and when she tries to yank away, I tighten my grip and shove the diamond back onto her finger. Pinning her with a look of warning, my tone states I’m serious as fuck as I say, “That ring will never leave your finger again.”
She lifts her chin and sasses me, “Never is only six months long.” She chuckles again. “Unless you back out sooner.”
Slowly, I shake my head. “There will be no annulment, Principessa.”
Instantly confusion flashes across her features. “What?”
Pulling away from her, I put on my safety belt and steer the vehicle back onto the road. “The one thing I’ll never give you is a divorce. Anything else is up for discussion.”
“You’re joking, right?” When I don’t bother responding, she gasps. “You’re serious? Have you lost your mind?”
“Never been saner,” I mutter.
“Why the hell would you want to stay married to me?”
I stop at a red light and glance at her. “You’re Mariya Koslov. The better question is, why wouldn’t I want to be married to you?”
“Jesus,” she mutters, shaking her head. “I’m not some bargaining chip you can use to solidify an alliance with my father.”
That’s the last reason why I want her.
The light turns green, and as I pull away, a heavy silence falls between us. By the time I park the G-Wagon and we climb out, you can cut the tension between us with a butter knife.
I grab Mariya’s bag and wait for Lev and Ivan to join us, then order, “Stay down here. She doesn’t need you in our home.”
Mariya follows me to the elevators, and when the doors slide shut, she mutters, “Like a lamb led to the slaughterhouse.”
“You’re no lamb, mia regina.”
Her eyes flick to me. “What did you call me?”
The doors open, and smiling, I gesture for her to walk. “My queen.”
She pauses, her eyes searching my face. With a shake of her head, she steps into her new home. “No way in hell am I calling you my king.”
“We’ll see about that,” I chuckle. I watch as she glances around the living room with a flicker of curiosity.
The entire penthouse is decorated in black slate stone, the furniture matching shades of dark charcoal. I’ve inherited my love for all things black from my father.
“Not bad,” she murmurs. She turns her attention to me. “Just show me to the guestroom, and I’ll get out of your way.”
Letting out another chuckle, I shake my head. I walk to the stairs and hear Mariya behind me. I ignore the four guestrooms and don’t even bother showing her around.
Entering my bedroom, now hers as well, I drop the bag by the foot of the king-size bed. “This won’t be a marriage in name only.” I turn around and capture her wary gaze. “You’ll sleep in my bed.”
She lifts an eyebrow at me while crossing her arms over her chest. Her chin lifts an inch, looking every bit the queen she is. “Is that so?”
I don’t even bother nodding.
Uncrossing her arms, she slowly steps closer to me until mere inches separate us. Tilting her head back, her eyelashes lower in a seductive move that has a direct link to my cock.
“So we’ll sleep next to each other.” Her tone is low and sexy as fuck, making me harden even more. “We’ll fuck like a happily married couple.” She lifts a hand to my chest, trailing a finger down the row of buttons of my dress shirt. “And I’ll cook and cater to you like a good little wife.”
“No cooking.” The corner of my mouth lifts. “I’ve heard you suck at it.”
With a frown, she stares at me, probably wondering how I know that little detail.
I lift my hand and wrap my fingers around the back of her neck. Tugging her closer until I’m able to feel her warm breaths on my lips, I say, “There will be no annulment, and this marriage will be real in every way.”
The same power that’s made her father and mother such an unbeatable duo darkens her eyes. “You think you’ll snap your fingers, and I’ll be a good little puppet?”
“Give me credit, mia moglie. I’m not stupid.”
Her lips part, and it takes all my strength not to kiss her fucking senseless.
“As hot as it is to hear you speak Italian, it frustrates me.”
“My wife.” As the words leave my mouth, they tense the air around us. Anticipation, unadulterated lust, and a maddening need to force this stubborn woman to bend to my will – it’s all so fucking intoxicating and addictive.
Mariya stares at me for a solid minute before she steps away from me. She glances around the room, taking in the dark furnishings, the insanely neat walk-in closet, and the door leading to the luxurious ensuite bathroom.