Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 118309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 473(@250wpm)___ 394(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 473(@250wpm)___ 394(@300wpm)
I ensure my voice is as seductive as the pleading look I hit him with. I’ve never been overly good at flirting, but I give today’s shot the performance of my life. It is only right. The credit card debt Maksim took care of this morning wasn’t small fry.
I’ll find a way to pay him back, but since it won’t be until after I’ve finalized my residency, I must play the part I agreed to last night.
I can only pray my heart will survive being in his presence that long.
Having above average smarts is wonderful until you realize your heart governs all your decisions. The fact I woke up married proves this without doubt.
Maksim’s eyes dance between mine for several long seconds before he eventually jerks up his chin. As he assists me off the barstool, the air hisses and cracks with electricity. It is the same fiery heat I felt in the bathroom weeks ago, and it augments when Shevi tosses a bottle of sunscreen into Maksim’s chest.
“We don’t want one of the newlyweds out of action so soon into their honeymoon.”
She hides her mammoth smile with a cocktail before it’s stolen from my view entirely by Maksim escorting me away from the giggling group.
The reason for Maksim’s unexpected arrival is unearthed when our walk through the lush paradise is stalked by numerous pairs of eyes. Some stare in fascination—even wearing a suit to a pool party can’t detract from Maksim’s sexiness—but a handful are more inquisitive than fascinated. They don’t hide their snooping ways, not even when we enter the cabana Zoya booked for the commencement of Aleena’s bachelorette party.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper to Maksim as I make a beeline for the sunlounge with the most shade and plop onto the edge. “I’ll do better. My head is still a little foggy, and then Zoya overloaded it.” I glance up at him. “I hope she didn’t cause you too much trouble today.”
“It wasn’t anything I haven’t handled before.”
“Negotiating for a woman’s time with money nothing new for you?”
I sound jealous. Rightfully so. I am.
Maksim plucks the SPF 50+ sunscreen off the table he dumped it on before joining me on the sunlounge. It creaks when placed under the strain of his six-foot-four height half a second before a cool substance coats my right shoulder.
“I’ve never bartered for a woman’s time.” I almost correct him, but he continues talking before I can. “And I never will.”
“We—”
“Are here because we want to be,” he interrupts, his tone stern yet honest. “Both of us.”
When I glance back at him, he holds my gaze for several heart-stuttering seconds before he smirks, squeezes a generous blob of sunscreen onto his palm, and then smears it across my left shoulder so it will be as sun protected as my right.
As he dotes on me like a husband would his new bride, I wonder if he took my defense as literal, or is he making sure Shevi’s warning that I could be out of action tonight with heatstroke won’t be an issue?
My shoulders don’t have the slightest bit of coloring, so I want to believe it is the latter, but the gawk of a man seated across from us makes me hesitant.
If he eyeballs us any harder, I won’t blame the sun for any damage caused to my skin today.
“Do you know who that man is?” My words are huskier than I’d like. It can’t be helped. Maksim is more massaging my shoulders than slapping on sun protection in the quickest means possible, and every swipe of his hand diverts the throb of my pulse to between my legs.
“Who?” His voice is as breathless as mine, and the need in it has me tilting back so his fingers brush my neck and collarbone more than my shoulders.
Multiple times, I try to reply, but when Maksim’s fingertips dip so low they’re close to tracing the triangular outline of my bikini top, I can’t concentrate on anything but how wild his simplest touch makes me feel. His fingers are right there, inches from my nipples, yet not close enough to excuse the wet patch slowly darkening my bikini bottoms.
“Don’t even think about it,” Maksim growls when I swivel my hips, hopeful my sarong will stop him from seeing how turned on his basic touch has made me. “If just my hands on you make you this wet, I want to see what happens when I answer one of the many pleas you hit me with last night.”
My back bends when one of his hands slips beneath my bikini and he squeezes and caresses my breast.
“Do you have any idea how hard it was to turn you down?” He takes his anger out on my nipple, tweaking and twisting it into a hard bud. “I had to sleep on a fucking armchair while my wife was naked in my bed.”