Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 59623 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 298(@200wpm)___ 238(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59623 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 298(@200wpm)___ 238(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
Even with my mother now dead.
The water shuts off in the bathroom. I don’t let myself look through the open door, because seeing Alessia wet and naked will drive me fucking insane. Even so, my cock swells against my zipper, forcing me to shift my position on the bed.
I call a pilot I know in Ireland and make arrangements for him to be here with a private jet ready to fly out by midnight at the latest. No way in hell I’m trusting any pilot in the U.S. because the Tacones could have spies anywhere.
Alessia comes out with her wet hair falling over her shoulders and a towel wrapped around her.
I shake my head and she stops.
“Drop the towel,” I growl. “You lost your clothing privileges.”
Her nostrils flare. She’s over being turned on and now she’s pissed. “Figlio di puttana!”
I don’t speak Italian, but I get the gist. “Watch it, printsessa, or I’ll smack that ass red again.”
Color tinges her cheeks.
My dick turns marble hard.
Damn, how I want to pound between those legs until she screams.
I clear my throat. “The towel.”
She tosses her hair, sending splatters of water around the room. With one flick of her wrist, she removes the towel and throws it in my face. Lucky for both of us, she’s wearing panties beneath it.
That doesn’t stop my cock from throbbing.
“Over here.” I sound far more gruff than I mean to. That’s what blue balls do to me. I force myself to take a breath before I get near her, before I bind her wrists and tie her to the bed.
She smells like apples and honey. Is that what my shampoo smells like? It can’t. I’ve never smelled anything so erotically alluring before in my life.
I wrap the swath of fabric around her wrists first to keep the rope from biting, then bind her hands together. I attach them to the headboard for good measure, but I leave her ankles free. It has nothing to do with me wanting to watch those long legs thrash around on the bed when she tries to move.
Nothing at all.
Fuck.
I’m not going to get anything done if I stay in this room with her. At least not anything that’s not pornographic.
When I’m sure she’s secured tightly, I get up and leave. I need to get Alessia more than just a muffin to eat.
Need to make sure Mika’s had breakfast.
Mostly, I just need to get away from the temptress tied to my bed.
Chapter 6
Alessia
“Oatmeal?” I ask when Vlad returns carrying a bowl.
He looks into the bowl. “Yeah? I guess.” He shrugs. “Mika likes it.”
That shouldn’t warm my heart. Neither should the fact that he’s sliced banana into the bowl and brought up a cup of steaming coffee. He looks street rough and bad boy to the core, but Vlad isn’t any rougher than one of my brothers at heart.
He releases the rope connecting my wrists to the headboard and helps me sit up, propped in the middle of the bed with a pillow behind my back. He sits beside me and holds the spoon out.
“Really? You’re going to hand feed me again? Don’t you have something better to do with your time?”
He pauses with the spoon halfway to my mouth, like he’s really considering the question. He gives the shrug again. “Yes and no.”
“Explain.” I swallow a spoonful of oatmeal which actually totally hits the spot.
“Yes, I have work to do. But I can’t have my prisoner slipping into a diabetic coma on me again.”
“You already gave me insulin.”
“I like you at my mercy.”
There it is. The crux of our relationship, and I fear the source of our mutual attraction. It’s sick and wrong on every level. And why I need to escape from this man’s clutches immediately. Before he gets me to Russia. Before he grows on me any more.
He lifts the rim of the coffee cup to my lips and I sip it gingerly.
And nearly spit it out. “Oh my God! Is that instant coffee?”
Vlad shrugs. “So?”
I make a face. “Disgusting.”
He lifts the cup to his mouth and drains the whole thing in one go, then wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “No espresso today, printsessa.”
I stare at the empty cup, my disappointment real. Yeah, I have way bigger problems to worry about—like being almost naked and tied to a man’s bed. Needing to escape before he brings me halfway across the world. But that coffee had smelled good.
And I really like my coffee in the morning, dammit.
“Is that how Russians make coffee?” If he’s going to call me princess, I might as well act like one.
He shoves another spoonful of oatmeal in my mouth. “Russians drink tea. Those who drink coffee, drink instant. In general.”
I realize it behooves me to keep him in conversation. The more I learn about him, the better. Also, the sooner I can get him to trust me, the quicker I will find a way to escape. No more shutting the door when he tells me not to. I need to act like the obedient little prisoner and lull him into complacency.