Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 86450 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86450 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
I rise from my chair. “Stay here.”
I cross the patio, through the sliding glass door into the great room, through the entry hall, toward the front double doors, which are wooden with large panes of clear glass so I can see Josie clearly.
She’s half turned, surveying the neighborhood. The other multimillion-dollar homes. I can see her face in profile, and this is my first clear image of what she looks like without wet hair plastered to her pale face.
And frankly… she’s gorgeous. Sun-kissed skin, high cheekbones, light, arched eyebrows. She’s tall with just a hint of buxom curves. I know she’s strong because she took down Mikhail and managed not to drown in dark waters, but standing on my doorstep, she looks delicate.
It’s not lost on me that Marcus and Connie are forty feet away on the patio, and Connie has just said we should have left her to die, and oh, let’s not forget I have a smuggled Pieter de Hooch in my study.
I open the door and she spins to face me.
And she checks me out.
Straight up runs her eyes down the length of me and back up again. It’s fast but obvious.
“Like what you see?” I ask, and fuck… the way she blushes makes her a million times prettier.
But she’s not discombobulated at all. She lifts her chin. “Can we talk?”
“Yeah,” I say and step back, motioning her in. “Sure.”
Josie enters and I turn to close the door. By the time I turn back around, Josie is standing almost face-to-face with Connie who came in the house. Marcus is right behind her.
Josie turns back to me. “I’m sorry. You have company. I didn’t mean to interrupt.” She takes a step toward the door, but I move into her path, cutting her off.
A hand to her shoulder, I turn her back around to face my other guests. “You’re not interrupting and they were just leaving.”
I stare pointedly at Marcus who gets the hint and takes Connie by the hand. “Right. We are indeed leaving.”
“But we didn’t—” Connie starts to say.
“Yes, we did,” Marcus cuts in over her.
Marcus nods at Josie on the way out. She saw him on the boat, but they never said anything to each other.
Before they step through the door, Connie levels a look back at me that’s both angry and hurt at the same time. I’m not sure what it means, but I don’t have time to unpack it.
I turn to Josie as the door closes and clasp my hands. “So, you show up unannounced to a man’s house, it’s got to mean something, right?”
I get another blush, but she tips her head. “First, I want to thank you for the flowers. They’re beautiful and well, completely unexpected. It was very kind of you to send them.”
“I wasn’t sending them to be kind,” I say, and her eyes flare. “I sent them to let you know I was interested in you.”
“Oh, well… I see. I mean, there’s kindness and there’s interest, and I get there’s a difference, but… not to say you can’t be kind and interested at the same time. There are people who are very good at both, and I’m guessing you’re one of them, and…” Her words trail off and she gives me a sheepish grin. “I’m sorry. I’m rambling. I’m not usually like this.”
She’s fucking adorable.
“Long day?” I hazard a guess.
“You have no idea.”
I stare at her a long moment. “Tell you what… come have a drink with me and we’ll talk. I know you’re here for more than just thanking me about the flowers.”
Relief wells in her eyes and her smile is completely disarming. “That sounds nice.”
Josie follows me to the bar, her head swiveling as she takes in the grandeur of my home. I’ve lived here for seven years and I’m trying to see what she sees through wondrous eyes.
The western wall of windows with leaded glass diamonds, the sliding glass doors that open an entire wall up to the outside, blanketed by yellow brocade drapery. She takes in the crystal and brass chandelier I bought at an auction two years ago, the Gothic-arched limestone hearth and the Regency armchairs in striped silk.
But it’s the view beyond the glass doors that has her inhaling sharply. It’s not just the patio and stone balustrade that has her attention but the Puget Sound orange from the last rays of sun as a ferry chugs from Bainbridge. And beyond the water, the Olympic Peninsula already purple in the dying light.
“What would you like to drink?” I ask.
She jolts and looks back at me. “Um… whatever you’re having.”
“Lagavulin?” I ask, holding up the bottle. Scotch isn’t for everyone.
“That’s fine. Just a small one though.”
I get a fresh tumbler since Connie drained my other and pour barely an inch in another for Josie. I hand it over and then tap my glass to hers. “Here’s to not getting killed by crazy Russians.”