Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83221 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83221 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
His sister. Oh thank God there’s a woman somewhere in the mix. I breathe out in relief.
Will she like me? Will I like her?
“There’s pen and paper on the desk. Write down anything you need.” Pausing, he leans forward and tips a finger under my chin. “And remember, Aria. I’ll be watching even when I’m not here.” In other words, don’t do anything stupid. Got it.
Of course I won't. I watch him step out of the shower and towel off, seemingly oblivious to the fact that he’s sex personified, a god in human form. Wrapping a towel around his waist, he reaches for his phone and steps out of the bathroom.
When he’s gone, the first thing I do is brace myself against the wall and breathe. I let the water flow over me, cleansing me, and breathe in the invigorating, warm air. When my heartbeat finally slows, I explore what he’s left for me.
The pink loofah’s obviously mine, as well as some nice toiletries. Shampoo and conditioner, a bottle of moisturizer. Definitely not the stuff you’d find at the dollar store.
My heart leaps when I find a razor — one of those fancy five-blade deals with a lubricating strip. Great for shaving the legs, but not so helpful if you’re looking for a weapon. I give it a long look and remember what he said about watching me. With a sigh, I use it to shave and nothing else. Thoughts of escaping come and go, fleeting thoughts of what a normal person would do in a situation like this.
But I’m not normal, and neither is he. It’s better if I find ways to make this work. Make it tolerable. Keep my own sense of self while under the control of another.
I finally exit the shower to find a fluffy towel and robe waiting for me on a small table beside the vanity. I dry my hair and body, then take a moment to use the lotion before I slide into the robe. It’s soft against my skin and makes me sigh in contentment.
I’ll enjoy the small luxuries when I can. I’d imagine this is exactly what a luxury hotel is like. I could relish a touch of luxury for a moment.
But it doesn’t last long. When I open the bathroom door, I pause, my mouth agape. Staring at the dress that's hanging in front of me.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Aria
Satin and lace, shimmering in the sunlight. An A-line silhouette that’s classy and gorgeous, accentuated with more delicate lace at the edges of a sweetheart neckline.
It’s a…white dress.
A wedding dress.
I'm wrapped in a robe staring at the dress, my mind reeling with my options. Or…lack of options.
Why is there a wedding dress in this room? A gentle knock sounds at the door, immediately followed by harsh voices. I look around the room for Mikhail.
It's happening. I'm looking for him for comfort and security.
I can't let myself go there.
“Who’s there?” I ask.
No answer.
The voices rise and fall on the other side of the door. Still wearing nothing but a robe, I walk to the door and peek through the peephole.
I wish I knew the layout of his home. There's a little hallway in front of me, and three armed men. I’m kind of honored they consider me so dangerous I’ve got security like that.
But standing right in the middle of them is a young, beautiful woman with long blonde hair that hangs all the way down her back. She holds her chin high and talks to the men fearlessly.
"Hello?" I say tentatively.
She snaps at them when she throws her hands up in the air. "I fucking knew you had her in there. You monsters. Open the fucking door. Now.”
The first shakes his head. “If your brother finds you came up here —”
It’s his sister. Oh thank God.
She defiantly sticks out her chin. “If you don't open that door, I am calling him myself."
I’m…standing in a robe. Still, she's a woman, she seems like she's on my side, and I'm in severe shortage of people on my side right now. I go to open the door a crack. "Hello?"
She presses her face to the opened crack of the door. “I'm your almost sister-in-law, open the door and let me in, please. We have a lot to do.”
He didn’t tell me not to open the door, but I know in my gut obviously he doesn't want me to do it.
What will he do? Kill me? It’s his sister.
I open the door amidst curse words and warnings from the security team. Yeah, whatever. The second she’s in, I hear one of them call Mikhail on his cell. We don’t have much time here.
She comes in, spins on her heel, and slams the door behind her.
Wow. This woman is stunning. Her long, flowing, platinum-blonde hair hangs down to her waist, and her ice blue eyes are framed with long, thick lashes. She’s graceful yet athletic, standing a few inches taller than me. With fair skin, she almost looks delicate, but there’s something about the way she holds herself that tells me that’s only an illusion. I get the distinct feeling she’s like tightly wrapped dynamite. A gymnast or ballerina or something.