Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 100416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
This nursery wasn’t something Dmitri had set up—of that, she was sure. It had the feeling of love, even tenderness. The sheets in the crib and the pillows were new, but the books had creases in their spines where they’d been read repeatedly, and there was a person-sized dent in the seat of the rocking chair.
Was this… Dmitri’s nursery? As in the one he’d grown up in?
She spun on her heel and marched out of the room. The concept of Dmitri as a child freaked her the fuck out, and she didn’t like how strange she felt when she pictured him there. Maybe it had been set up for his niece? The fact that Dmitri’s half sister Olivia and her daughter were now living with Cillian O’Malley was just one more thorn in Romanov’s side. Hadley had the look of her uncle. It wasn’t any particular feature, but sometimes she got a calculating expression on her face that screamed Dmitri. I bet he was a little shit when he was a kid.
She stepped into the hallway and shut the door behind her. It was only then that she realized she wasn’t alone. “Don’t you have something better to do than skulk around here?”
Dmitri raised his brows. “I’m not skulking.”
“You are the very definition of skulking.” She jerked a thumb over her shoulder. “Didn’t anyone tell you that nurseries are creepy as fuck? I bet it’s haunted.”
If anything, his amusement deepened. “I have it on the best of authority that there are no resident spirits in the nursery—or elsewhere.”
She tried to picture Dmitri hiring a supernatural expert and failed. “What did you do? Bring in a ghost hunter to exorcise this place? Because it’s actually a really good idea. Think I could hire one to take care of the O’Malley house? There are definitely some bad vibes there.” She realized that it wouldn’t matter if those bad vibes were gone, because she’d never be going back, and wilted. Damn it, no. I am not some princess who was tricked into captivity. I chose this. And no one can keep me against my will.
Dmitri turned and moved to the door just down the hall from the nursery. “Give me some credit. If I were going to exorcise anything, I’d hire a priest.”
“How very orthodox of you.” She followed him, drawn closer as if he’d attached a magnet around her middle. Or lower.
He looked more relaxed today than she’d ever seen him. His dark hair was slightly rumpled, as if he’d run his hands through it, his dark gray shirt unbuttoned two more than normal. Not that she noticed how far up he buttoned his shirts. That would be the height of insanity. His lips quirked in something of a mocking smile. “You like what you see.”
“You’re not ugly. Stop pretending you don’t know it. No one likes a pretty person who fishes for compliments.”
“Ah, but it’s different when it’s my wife complimenting me.” He practically purred the words.
Keira opened her mouth to tell him to shove right off, but reconsidered. What was that saying? Catch more flies with honey or some shit? She smiled sweetly. “I’m going to begin Krav Maga lessons next week. Find me a suitable gym by then.” She hesitated and forced out, “Please.”
“Of course. I have one already in the process of being prepared.”
In the process of being prepared. She wasn’t going to touch that with a ten-foot pole. She hesitated when Dmitri walked into the second room, but curiosity got the better of her, and she followed.
The master suite.
She walked straight to the bed and peered up. It was massive. The bed itself was bigger than a king size, but what caught her attention was the canopy that was a good ten feet off the mattress. It looked like a place where giants slept, rather than a mere man. “Tell me the truth—you wait until all your good little Russian men have gone to bed and then you jump on this thing, don’t you?”
“Guilty.”
She shot him a look, but his expression was serious. Keira shook her head. “Everyone’s a comedian.” She poked the white down comforter and then ran her fingers down the sheer fabric of the canopy. It looked like something out of some fallen angel’s daydream… until she pictured Dmitri in the middle of it, naked and looking at her like the very devil.
Heat crept up her chest to her cheeks. She turned away and practically ran to the bathroom. It wasn’t any better. She couldn’t look at that shower with its clear tiles without picturing the water sluicing down Dmitri’s body, or examine the claw-foot tub without thinking about him there, his head back and eyes closed. The closet didn’t grant her a damn bit of a reprieve. Suits lined half of the space, each more expensive than the next, and it smelled of him. Dark and spicy and tempting.