Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 90540 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90540 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
My gaze dipped to his left hand, to his bare ring finger. Though I’d said I would buy him a wedding band—caught up in that moment, in his bigheartedness—I now worried I’d acted rashly.
Rings were symbols; how could I pledge forever to him with all my lies and doubts standing between us?
Dmitri shifted on the bed, interrupting my thoughts. Still staring out the window, he absently traced that faint remnant of a scar. If he’d been suicidal, how much longer could I go without asking him about it?
As if he sensed my internal debate, he turned to me. “You’re awake.”
I sat up against the headboard. “How long was I out?” I wore one of his T-shirts, but only because the housekeeper was here today.
“Not long. I just had tea brought in.” A silver tea service with snacks sat on the end of the huge bed. He poured me a cup with honey, exactly how I liked it.
I took a sip. Delicious.
He sat beside me and reached for my free hand, as if he’d only been waiting for me to wake so he could lace our fingers together.
Life could be so sweet when I forgot myself and lived in the now. He and I rode horses and explored the coast. He’d taken me on two short overnight trips—shopping on Rodeo Drive and sightseeing in San Francisco—easing me into travel.
Whenever we played chess, he won, which made me itch to challenge him at poker. But I’d vowed to turn my back on anything related to my grifter days, even a simple card deck, my beloved rectangle of two and a half by three and a half inches.
After twenty years, my days as a cardsharp were over. Pang.
I took another sip of tea, feeling Dmitri’s gaze. He studied me like he was trying to crack a code.
I’d come close to slipping up a couple of times.
When a restaurant server had been hanging all over him, he’d noted my jealousy. As the woman had sauntered off, he’d teased me, “Remember, I’m legally yours.” Glaring at the woman’s back, I’d snapped, “In that case, I might have some use”—I’d bit my tongue to keep the rest from escaping—for Johnny Law after all.
And, damn it, gaming a parking meter was second nature!
My family would be just as likely to slip up. Parents loved to relate stories about their kids growing up, right? Mom couldn’t exactly tell my gull husband I’d been a “broad tosser” at age four. “Can you keep your eyeth on the queen, thsir?”
I sipped my tea, sighing over the cup.
“What does your family usually do for Thanksgiving?” Dmitri asked.
I swallowed thickly. “Pardon?”
“We could invite them all here.”
I still hadn’t figured out how his visiting with them would work. My dilemma? How much I long to see my family versus how much I fear losing Dmitri.
“We’ll see.” Maybe over time I’d grow more confident in him. Sharing was the key to companionship; once we got to know each other better, he could genuinely fall in love with me, replacing his meteoric flash obsession with something more abiding. If he loved me, his feelings might remain true once he found out what I’d done.
But getting to know him was difficult when he still wasn’t talking.
“Vika, this can’t go on much longer. You’ve already missed too many Sundays with them.”
I set my cup aside. “I’ll broach it with them—once you tell me what you fought with Maksim about.”
He exhaled. “In time, I’ll tell you everything,” he said, his go-to answer. “I suppose you’ll have to continue sending your family gifts until we can see them.”
Last week, at his suggestion, I’d shopped online while he worked, buying Benji a super-fly camera; spa days for Mom, Karin, and Gram; golf clubs for Dad, Pete, and Al; toys for Cash and my younger cousins.
At the end of his hour, Dmitri had looked at my purchases. “I need you to feel comfortable spending more.”
“I don’t think that’s possible.” He was no longer a mark I planned to fleece. Had he achieved pack status in my heart yet? No. But he could.
He’d pulled up a spreadsheet on his computer, highlighting a sum. “What we make annually on the patents alone.”
I’d squinted. The length of that number couldn’t be right. I’d rechecked it, but the figure remained unimaginable. “Need . . . to sit . . . down.”
He’d helped me back to the couch. “I want us to spend our lives trying to kill our fortune—no matter how impossible a prospect that might be. Will you try to do better tomorrow? Endeavor to shock me.”
The next day, I’d cracked my knuckles before hitting the computer. I’d purchased cars, wardrobes, jewelry, and thirty cruise tickets. I’d set up a college fund for Cash and bought my parents authentic fine art. Again, I’d shown Dmitri my take (without the mountain bike and gifts I’d secretly ordered for him).
He’d said, “More income came in overnight. You didn’t even scratch the surface. Perhaps tomorrow you will be more aggressive. . . .”
Now he canted his head, forever deciphering my expressions. “If you are anxious, I’m not helping by putting pressure on you. I apologize.” He pressed a kiss to the palm of my hand. “You must have a reason for remaining away from them. I look forward to when you can share it with me.”
Guh. He was too good to be true.
I kept hearing Karin’s warning, reinforcing my own experience, yet I couldn’t prevent my feelings from growing. My mom had said people got greedy. That they knew better, but they chose to ignore all the warning signs.
I was greedy for Dmitri.
And yet I knew so little about him. Dip a toe, Vice. “When I woke, you were staring out at the water.” And touching your scar. “What were you thinking about?”
“Myriad things.”
“Such as . . .”
“You should have had a period by now,” he said, taking me off guard.
“You noticed?” My eyes widened. “Oh, wait, did you think . . . ? Dmitri, I took my pills straight through, so I wouldn’t start this month.”