Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 144908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
Gleb laughed softly. “Walker doesn’t have a clue what he’s getting with you, does he?”
She didn’t rise to the bait. She knew he’d deliberately seated her at the desk in front of the fountain pen and the letter opener. She wasn’t taking the bait. There were other ways to kill Thompson. If she had to, she’d wait for their wedding night. Sooner or later, the idiot would be so secure in his superiority that he’d let his guard down.
Gleb and Denis were much more worrisome. They had faint Russian accents, and instinctively she had known all along she was dealing with very dangerous men. Much more so than Thompson. Thompson might think he was in charge, but there was something about the two bodyguards that made her think they were something else altogether.
There was no doubt in her mind that Walker Thompson had hired them. He thought they worked for him. They obeyed his instructions. Still, Ambrielle was fairly certain they had their own agenda, and if it differed from Thompson’s they’d kill him without hesitation. They’d kill her too, just the way they had her parents. Without thought. It had been too easy for Gleb. He’d barely looked at her parents when he’d shot her father without one iota of remorse.
Denis came back with the cold washcloth and handed it to her. She applied it to her throbbing face, leaning one elbow on the desk, right next to the letter opener just to keep the Russian bodyguards on their toes.
“If we’re taking bets,” Gleb said in Russian, “my bet’s on her. She’ll kill him inside of a week.”
“He’ll break her in a week. He’ll beat her every day and rape her over and over until she breaks,” Denis replied indifferently, as if she weren’t even in the room.
“I’ll take your money. One hundred thousand American.”
“Bullshit, Gleb. She won’t get near a weapon. He’s stupid, but not that stupid.”
“This one won’t need a weapon. She’s trained. She can kill him with her bare hands. She’ll bide her time,” Gleb responded. “I wish I could be there to see it.”
FOUR
“I’m not exactly sure what you have left to threaten me with,” Ambrielle said, staring up at Thompson with sheer defiance. She switched her glare to the preacher. “And you, what’s wrong with you that you can’t see he’s forcing me to marry him, which I’m not doing?”
“You don’t mind if Gleb takes out his gun and shoots your family lawyer?” Walker asked with his smooth smile.
“You mean the man who set my parents up to be killed? I plan on killing him myself, but if you want to do it, go right ahead. I’m still not marrying you.”
Walker shoved her veil back over her head so he could stare directly into her eyes as he grabbed her throat again.
“Go ahead, Thompson. Choke me, right in front of the preacher. Beat me up. That’s going to get me to marry you. You killed my father and mother. There isn’t anyone left.”
He pressed his forehead hard against hers. She could smell alcohol on his breath. “I beg to differ with you, darling. You have a very sweet friend. Amanda Gibbs is her name. I can bring her here. Right now, she’s having coffee in a little café, studying the way she does every day at this time. She’s very predictable. My men have been in her home while she’s been sleeping. It would be so easy to pick her up and bring her to my place. I won’t have to hurt you, Ambrielle, only your friend. She has a brother, Adam, doesn’t she? How do you think she will feel when he has an accident, and she finds out you could have prevented it?”
Ambrie had managed to lift the stupid little pocketknife Dobbs carried with him. She knew he had it on him because he never left it behind. It wasn’t a great one. He didn’t use it for the knife, but he liked the opener on it so he could pop the tops off beer bottles. He’d done it in front of her for years. She wanted to stick that knife right into Thompson’s throat, but his bodyguards were watching her closely, half expecting her to make a move against their boss.
Gleb, Denis, Karlin and Kesar were somewhere behind her. She knew Karlin and Kesar were on either side of Dobbs, presumably to scare her into marrying Thompson. The two men were Thompson’s personal army, not part of the Russian assassination squad. She couldn’t care less if Thompson ordered Dobbs killed right there. He was responsible for her parents’ deaths. The wedding was a crock anyway.
“Do we have an understanding, Ambrielle, or should I make a phone call and have my men pick up dear little Amanda? She would make such a nice addition to our wedding. You do need a maid of honor. I’ll bet she feels left out when you tell her you got married without her.”