Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 142043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 710(@200wpm)___ 568(@250wpm)___ 473(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 710(@200wpm)___ 568(@250wpm)___ 473(@300wpm)
“Caro, I’m not about to unleash society on Alessia.”
“She’ll be fine. Sink or swim, to keep your boat analogy.”
“Boats don’t swim. They float.”
“She’ll float. She’ll fly! She is lovely. I’ll give you that.”
That she is. It’s not a bad idea. And Alessia needs friends—it’s a perfect place to make connections. “I’ll talk to her.”
“You can’t keep her hidden away forever. You’re not ashamed of her, are you?”
“Fuck off, Caro. Of course not.”
“It will be fun. And I need some fun. And mention the shopping!”
“Well, I think she’s lonely. So I’ll think about it. I’ve got to go.”
* * *
“Are you okay?” Alessia asks when Maxim leans oh-so-casually against the doorjamb of the kitchen. This is a habit of his that Alessia enjoys—he likes leaning there and watching her, and she can admire him; his hair is rumpled, his chin stubbled—he’s a welcome sight. This evening, he’s just returned from work, and his face is tense, his jaw strained.
“I’m fine. Just another day at the office.” He smiles, and Alessia snakes her arms around him and tilts her face up for a kiss. Maxim obliges willingly, his mouth firm and demanding against hers.
“That’s better,” he whispers.
She grins. “Dinner is in the oven.”
“How was your day?”
“It started very well. Very well indeed.”
“Why, Lady Trevethick, whatever do you mean?”
The heat rises in Alessia’s cheeks, and she bats her eyelashes. “I think you know.”
“I do.” Maxim kisses her again—longer this time, so they’re both breathless when he pulls away. He rubs her nose with his. “Seriously. How was your day?”
Tell him.
Alessia debates whether to tell him about Paul Maddox, but because he’s brooding about something, and she’s not sure how he’ll react if he finds out she went against his wishes, she distracts him with a question. “It was good. Did you hear from your mother?”
His face shutters immediately, and Alessia knows this is what’s vexing him. “No,” he says. He blows out a breath. “But I did speak to Tom. He wants to talk to you. About your friend.”
“Bleriana?”
“Yes. Call him after dinner.”
“I can call him now.”
“I’ll text you his number.”
* * *
It’s just after 9:00 p.m., and Alessia and I are sitting at my desk, staring at the computer. I feel like I’ve taken my school entrance exams again, but it’s been a welcome distraction. We’ve signed Alessia up for an intensive weeklong social etiquette course at the academy that Caroline recommended.
“Caroline did this course too?”
Alessia was incredulous.
“Yeah. Kit insisted.” I’d shrugged, still shocked that Kit would insist on such a thing.
And we’ve completed four applications to music conservatoires in London. Her favorite is the Royal College of Music because it’s within walking distance.
“I don’t know if my English will be good enough,” Alessia says.
“You’ll be fine. And let’s hope you can start in the summer term, after Easter. You said your mother was going to send your exam certificates.”
She chuckles. “Yes. My Matura Shtetërore. I should have packed them. I didn’t know I’d need them.”
“You got top marks in English, which will help.” I blow out a breath, a rosy sense of achievement glowing in my chest. “Now that this is done, what would you like to do?”
“It’s late.”
“Not that late. I know what I want to do.”
* * *
He grins, boyish and breezy, and taking her hand as he rises from his desk, he moves toward the coffee table in front of the sofa and grabs one of the remotes. He’s not been this upbeat since their honeymoon.
“Sit,” he says, and Alessia settles on the couch beside him.
We’re going to watch TV?
Alessia is surprised. They’ve never watched television together, even in Kukës. The large flatscreen pops to life with an electronic hiss of static, but instead of a TV program, there’s a strange white logo on a black background.
“Here.” Maxim hands her a game console controller.
She frowns up at him.
“Call of Duty?” he prompts.
She smirks. “I thought that’s what we always do?”
Maxim laughs. “Duty?” he scoffs in mock horror, then pounces on her so she’s suddenly prone on the sofa, his weight pressing her into the soft cushions. He grins. “Duty, Lady Trevethick?”
She giggles. “Well, duty and pleasure.”
He kisses her quickly and sits up. “Your English is getting so much better. No. I fancy playing a game that I know I can win. It’s what my ego needs right now.”
Alessia laughs and sits up beside him. “How do you know you can beat me?”
“I didn’t see a PS4 in Kukës. And you’re holding the console upside down. Here, I’ll teach you.”
Games! He plays video games! This is a side of Maxim she’s not seen before.
“Okay?” he asks, green eyes bright but less sure.
“Yes!” Alessia declares enthusiastically because she’s never played computer games before.
“Right. Bring it!” Maxim means business.
* * *
“So, how’s doing your duty going so far?” I whisper against the soft skin of her inner thigh.