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Page 3 of Forced Marriage Vows

She grins. “What have you been up to? Apart from sitting and brooding alone. You should pair up with Mr. Tall, Rich and Handsome over there. Since the two of you are so intent on pretending you’re not in a club.”

‘Mr. Tall, Rich and Handsome’ is Mikhail Morozova. Like me, she’s known him since we were teens. Like me, she’s never really spoken to him. Which is why I make a face at her suggestion.

“Why would I do that?”

“Who knows? Maybe you two will hit it off,” she says on a shrug.

“The man is a brick wall. And a jerk.”

Plus, he’s dangerous. Leah has no idea how much, but thanks to the family I come from, I do. Which is why I’ve always tried to stay the hell away from Mikhail.

“He’s also probably the hottest man I’ve ever seen,” Leah says on a soft breath.

It’s true. With his broad shoulders, icy blue eyes, and angular jawline, there’s no denying how good-looking Mikhail is. He looks like a Greek statue come to life. He’s also incredibly intelligent and was able to build a multi-million dollar company from the ground up all on his own, and before the age of thirty.

The man is literally perfect on paper. Then you get to know his personality, who he really is, and it cancels everything else out.

“Stop looking at him,” I caution my best friend.

I’ve seen Mikhail shoot someone for looking at him the wrong way. Granted, Leah doesn’t know that. Like me and Anthony, Mikhail’s family has roots in the Bratva. He’s a Russian man with an affinity for violence, and I’ve had the chance to witness that violence a couple of times.

Which is why it’s so crazy to me that he’s best friends with Anthony.

“Okay, fine. But you can’t deny that he’s intriguing.”

“Yeah, intriguing in a way that makes me want to stay the fuck away from him.”

“Intriguing in a way that makes me want to climb him like a tree,” Leah corrects.

I roll my eyes. “He only dates models with long legs and blonde hair.”

My best friend laughs. “You know you literally just described yourself, right? So you’re his type!”

“I take offense to that,” I say, turning my nose up.

As if to prove my point, a woman who fits my exact description of Mikhail’s type sidles up in front of him. She’s pretty tall, although nowhere near as tall as Mikhail’s six foot four, which is probably why he only likes Amazons. This woman certainly fits that bill. She whispers something in his ear, and his expression doesn’t change as he listens. As soon as she pulls back, he kisses her, hard on the lips.

My lips part as I watch and for some reason, I don’t immediately look away. At least not until Mikhail’s eyes open and his eyes meet mine. The look he gives me is chilling. Somehow, I manage to act like I wasn’t caught staring. Likeit doesn’t bother me at all. I arch one eyebrow before quickly looking away.

He unnerves me, and the last thing I want is for him to know that. Leah starts telling me more about her conversation with Abdul and I’m listening when my phone rings.

It’s the editor I had a meeting with yesterday in New York. It’s pretty late. But I did ask him to call me anytime if there were any updates. Which means I need to answer my phone.

CHAPTER 2

Mikhail

One of my favorite things to do is have a staring contest with Anastasia Vasiliev. They’re never planned or intentional. But somehow, her eyes always find their way to mine. And then it’s a game to see who looks away first. Unfortunately, she loses every time. One of these days I’ll get her to look me straight in the eye and not back down. I know she has that fire in her, I just have to pull it out.

When Anastasia looks away, I abruptly stop kissing the woman in front of me. I don’t know her name, or what she’s doing in here. She just walked up to me and asked if I was interested in a good time.

“Do you want to find a room?” she asks in a low, seductive voice, fluttering her eyelashes.

Under normal circumstances, I would have gone with her. Long, straight blonde hair, big blue eyes. She’s a beautiful woman, confident too. But I’m distracted. Anthony’s little sister is distracting me. Which is odd, because I don’t really know her. I’ve never felt the need to know her.

My interest in her is a recent development. It started about a year ago. Everything changed a year ago.

My eyes follow Anastasia as she gets to her feet, narrowing when I notice that she’s walking with a slight limp. I watch as she pulls her brother to the side and whispers something in his ear.




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