Page 15 of Samuel

I take her hand, jerking her so that her face is close to mine. I feel her breath caress my skin. “Six months and you’ll be mine completely,” I croon. Then, before she can stop me, I take her mouth. I feel her body stiffen, but choose to ignore it, biting down on her lip. When Isabel opens her mouth, I thrust my tongue inside. I explore and conquer, devouring her. I groan as her tongue seeks mine out. She softens against me, losing herself to the feelings that we’re creating. When my lungs burn—needing oxygen—I force myself to pull away. Her face is a mixture of hunger, shock, and confusion. “Be ready for me tomorrow morning by ten, Pookie.”

She remains quiet as I walk out. That kiss was fucking phenomenal. I think I just won another round …

10

natalia

“You’re living here?” I ask, looking around.

“Not up to your standards?” Samuel asks, making me roll my eyes.

“It’s a penthouse apartment in a five-star luxury hotel. I simply meant that I expected you’d be in a home surrounded by guards and a staff to do your bidding.”

“Worried I won’t be able to protect you, Pookie?”

I walk over to him and pinch him a little too hard on the cheeks. “Not at all, fluffy-wuffy. I just found it curious.”

He cocks an eyebrow up and assesses me. “Fluffy-wuffy?”

“If you’re going to use icky nicknames, so will I.”

Samuel laughs, humor lighting up his eyes. I refuse to acknowledge how good that makes him look. He’s already sinfully gorgeous. Relaxed and happy, he might just be deadly. I push those thoughts away. If I’m going to survive, I need to keep my wits about me—and my legs closed.

“I think I shall concede this round. You win. If I’m not calling you a pet name, which do you prefer? Natalia or Isabel?”

“Maybe Natalia. The only person to call me that was my father. I hated him, too. So, it seems fitting.”

That erases the sexy look on his face. “Isabel it is,” he responds. I shrug. “The staff will put your stuff in your room. How long until you leave for work?” he asks, taking my hand and pulling me from the foyer toward the open kitchen and giant island. The apartment is beautiful and modern. At the top of the ceiling and walls, there’s a deep, rich chocolate finish that reminds me of Samuel’s eyes, and the bottom is a soft vanilla set off with some wood accents to make it pop. The wood cabinets and trim are a Brazilian oak. The island is made of the same wood, with a dark granite top. Throughout the apartment, there are modern gray wood floors that are striking, while still allowing the oak accents to stand out. There’s a small room that separates the entry from everything else that is entirely glass. Inside the room is a huge bonsai tree in a blue pot. It’s almost as tall as I am. There’s a huge chaise that invites you to lie on it, fitting three people easily. There’s also a curved stairway leading up to the roof of the penthouse. I could happily live in just that room.

“I’m working another double. I’ll need to be there by four,” I answer.

“You work too hard,” he murmurs, but doesn’t look at me. “I am free until a video conference with Avi at midnight. We can spend the day getting to know one another.”

“It’s the Christmas season. It’s always busy,” I explain. Why are you having a video conference at midnight? Is Avi another candidate for a bride, or maybe a sex show?”

He laughs. “You’re forgetting the time difference. That’s only ten in the morning in Moscow. As for Avi, he works alongside me. I’m hoping to put him in charge there, so we can live here,” he explains, pulling out a stool for me.

“Oh,” I breathe. My stomach feels unsettled as he casually mentions us living together. I focus on the smorgasbord of breakfast pastries, sausage, eggs, and toast in front of me.Samuel apparently planned to feed me. Since Iamhungry, I grab an empty plate and start filling it.

“What would you like to drink?”

“Orange juice, please.”

“I thought all doctors live on coffee?”

“I do that later in the day. I just need to be awake—not climbing the walls,” I explain, looking over the offerings before me.

“What’s that look?” he asks, bringing my juice over, sitting beside me, as he fills his plate.

“Huh?”

“You look disappointed. Did I order the wrong things?”

“Oh, no. I just like fresh fruit in the mornings,” I explain.

“I’ll remember that for tomorrow,” he murmurs to himself. The response gives me a funny feeling.What is going on here?“I was thinking after breakfast we might get out for a bit. Spend some time exploring the city and Christmas displays.”

“Why?”

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