Page 28 of Lethal Legacy

And “darling Inger” is a walking nightmare.

Yuri, however, has always believed Mikhail’s ex-wife to be the epitome of what a Russian wife should be, and Mikhail never had the heart to take her down from the pedestal Yuri put her on.

“The children are in London with Vera.” Vera is Yuri’s dragon of a wife. To my vast relief, after her husband’s incarceration, Vera chose to live in London rather than Spain. Personally, I think she’s just happy to be far away from Yuri. “And Inger is currently on a modeling contract in the US.”

“Ah.” Yuri nods, yet again as if all of this is by his decree. “Inger is so beautiful. Such a beauty needs a good husband, Roman. And it would be Mikhail’s dream, I think, for you to raise his children together.” The pale blue eyes turn a little misty, his Russian accent growing harsher. “A man needs a wife, Roman. You could do a great deal worse than Inger.” He gives me a sly smile. “As I recall, it was you she favored in the beginning, was it not?”

You just stepped over the line, old man.

“I told you I don’t plan to marry.” The cold finality in my voice wipes the sentiment right off Yuri’s face. “Mikhail’s son will inherit Hale, and I will raise him to run it, as his father would have wanted. I have no need of either wife nor heir since, as you no doubt understand, I ampakhanonly until little Mickey comes of age.”

I barely manage not to add that even if I were to marry, Inger would be the very last damned person on this planet I would choose.

“Inger was Mikhail’s wife. I would thank you not to disrespect your son’s memory, or dishonor her, by bringing up a past that is long forgotten by us all.” I glare at him across the pockmarked table. “Do I make myself clear?”

When Yuri finally drops his eyes, it’s with the same sullen resentment his son showed moments earlier.

I spend the next ten minutes pretending to give a shit about Nikolai’s business and to take Yuri’s advice. It’s never smart to piss off a man who has nothing but time in which to dwell on his grudges. Nor do I fancy making an open enemy of Nikolai, no matter how useless the little prick is. By the time I take my leave, we’re back on amicable terms, which is just how I like it.

I’ve got bigger things to worry about than dealing with those two.

Like whether or not Lucia Lopez is going to surrender to me.

9

ROMAN

“You want to talk about it?” Dimitry glances at me as we turn onto the highway.

“Nope.” I stare at my phone, which is still silent. It’s been five and a half hours since I gave her the contract.

Three hundred and thirty minutes.

And only thirty minutes remain until the deadline is up.

I keep seeing Lucia as she was when she came to my office this morning: eyes wide, lips glistening, and hair piled up in a way I haven’t seen before. I have an almost irresistible urge to tug it free of whatever pin is holding it precariously in place and watch it tumble down. Preferably over my hands, while her mouth is full of my dick.

By the way her luscious chest was heaving when she arrived in my office, she’d clearly left it until the last minute to decide to actually show up. And now here I am, for the second time today, watching my phone and counting the goddamn minutes.

I don’t like being strung along, any more than I’d liked her referring to her proposed role as my“live-in sex slave.”

Not that the term doesn’t raise a mass of delicious fantasies, many of which involve those glistening, bee-stung lips.

Moaning my name.

Devouring my cock.

Screaming as she loses it.

I want to make her come undone, bring her to the edge over and again until those lips beg me for release. I can already imagine them against my ear, whispering every filthy fantasy she’s been harboring in the months since we met.

“Lick me . . . please . . . I need your tongue. I need you inside me, Roman.”

I shift restlessly. The lingering state of arousal I’ve been in ever since I watched that video playback is turning into full-blown fantasy. The slightest recollection of her trembling under my hands is enough to make me iron hard.

Which, I tell myself, is the exact reason I put this proposal to her in the first place.

I need to get Miss Lopez underneath me as soon as possible. Get into her, then get the fuck out of the weird state of crippling lust her mouth-watering body has put me into.

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