Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 83818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Like a creature carved from stone, he’s unyielding and untouchable. But I’ve seen the cracks beneath the surface, the beast lurking in hiding…I want to coax him out of hiding, tame his inner monster.
I shake my head and take a look at my enemy…also known as my soon-to-be-husband.
What the hell is Isabella thinking, throwing us together like this?
My God, he’s every bit as handsome as I remembered.
His jawline, sharp enough to cut glass, is covered in rough stubble. Those green eyes that see right through every layer I’ve built to protect my heart. Others say he’s cold and merciless, and while I wouldn’t deny it—there’s more to Ollie Romanov than others think.
I hate how my pulse races just by looking at him, a reaction I wish I could control, but I’m only human. His presence fills every room he enters, commanding attention and respect without uttering a word. It’s infuriating how effortlessly he exudes power and dominance.
“Are you going to keep staring at me, or do you need more painkillers?” Ollie’s emotionless voice breaks through my thoughts, snapping me back to reality.
I scowl at him, trying to mask the involuntary flutter in my chest. “Oh, I’m fine,” I say sweetly. “I need nothing more from you, sir. Thank you very much.”
“Ah. Good to know you’re practicing how to respect your husband.”
I give him the middle finger… just to set him straight. His eyes spark at me, and he sobers, leaning closer. “Do that again, Renata, and I’ll test my theory about my fiancée and her spanking kink.”
I gape at him. “What?”
“You heard me.” Oooh, the nerve. I want to wipe that self-satisfied, smug look right off his face, to see the man beneath the mask. The man who might actually feel something more than cold, calculating detachment.
I flop back in the seat, and the small interior of the plane swirls in front of me.
“Is that turbulence?”
He snorts and raises an eyebrow, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. Oh, fuck you, Ollie Romanov. I’m helpless when he smirks.
“No, I think it’s the shots. You probably shouldn’t mix alcohol and painkillers.”
Oh. Right.
Well, fuck.
I hate that he’s right. I hate that despite everything, I’m going to have to rely on him, and that makes me even more vulnerable than ever. The thought makes me want to scream and break things.
“I don’t trust you, you know,” I say. My voice is steady, but when he gives me a stern look, my heart races faster.
“You don’t have to.” He leans in closer. “It’s really very simple, Renata. All you have to do is marry me. Let me fuck you. Take my name and have my babies.” He shrugs, as if all of this is so simple—all I have to do is marry him, give him everything, and let him control the rest.
But this is more than a marriage. This is war.
“I’ll handle the rest, Renata.”
Oh, is that all?
I narrow my eyes at him but don’t give the smug prick the satisfaction of a response.
“Fine,” I snap. “But don’t think for a second I’ll let my guard down with you.” I whirl a finger in a circular motion around my face. “See this? This is all you’ll get from me.”
What the actual fuck am I saying? What was in those drinks?
His dark, rich chuckle sends a shiver down my spine, confirming my suspicion that my comeback line was as lame as it sounded to my own ears. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
My head feels as if it’s three times the normal size, and the throbbing pain in my arm has begun to fade a little.
“Fine,” I say. Then I wonder if I said that out loud. “Did you hear that?”
“Hear what?” he asks, getting that adorably confused look he gets when he’s thinking about something, like a curious puppy. For one tiny minute, his guard drops, and he’s utterly disarming.
“When I talked to you.” I stifle a giggle. “Did I say that out loud?”
Oh, God, here we go. I should not have had those drinks, especially not on an empty stomach.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” For some reason, I find his confusion hilarious. I burst out with another giggle and cover my mouth with my hand.
“Nothing.”
“Are you drunk?” He shakes his head.
“Oh, honey,” I say on another giggle. “I’m fucking plastered. I can’t hold my liquor at all.”
“Jesus.” He stands up, towering over me, and I can’t help a feeling of dread and anticipation. This guy is going to be my husband, my protector, and my biggest fucking challenge. And somehow, I have to make sure I navigate this new reality without betraying him to Carlos and without losing myself in the process.
This will be impossible.
“Look at me,” he snaps.
I open my eyes as wide as I can and stare up at him, my head swaying lazily.