“Roman?”
“Yes?”
“I have a confession to make.”
I kiss her shoulder. “Something bad?”
“Yeah. It’s... well, it’s a kind of a problem. A big one.”
“Spill it, Nina.” She’s silent for a few moments, and then makes my world tilt on its axis with six short words. “I’m in love with you, Roman.”
I close my eyes for a second and squeeze her tightly. It’s like everything around me stopped. “Then we share the same problem, malysh.”
― Neva Altaj, Painted Scars
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“Tell me, Nina, if there wasn’t this deal between us, would you have come when I nodded?” he asks. “Nope.”
I don’t expect him to ask me to elaborate, but he does, and his question surprises me. “Why not? Is it because of the wheelchair?”
He says it conversationally, but there is a hidden undertone I can’t quite define. I abandon watching the crowd and look him right in the eyes. “It’s because I’m not a poodle, Mr. Petrov.”
― Neva Altaj, Painted Scars
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“No one will be teaching you Russian, but me. Got that?” “Got it, kotik.” I close my eyes and shake my head. “You do not call a Russian pakhan ‘kitten’, Nina. I have an image to uphold here.”
― Neva Altaj, Painted Scars
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“She took my black heart with her the day she left, and if she says no, she can keep it. I’m ruined for anyone else anyway.”
― Neva Altaj, Painted Scars
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“You are mine now and I am not letting you go. Ever.”
― Neva Altaj, Painted Scars
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“Put your hands on my wife,” I tell the idiot, “and you’re losing them.”
― Neva Altaj, Painted Scars
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“Igor speaks only Russian. How can he teach her anything?” “I have no idea. He tells her what to do, and when she does it wrong, he yells.” My head snaps to the side to look at Varya. “He yelled at my wife?” “She yelled at him more.”
― Neva Altaj, Painted Scars
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“Decided to finally get out of your cave, I see.” I co*ck an eyebrow. “You should get dressed. We’re going down for dinner in thirty minutes.” “slu*tty, serious, or something in the middle?” “Middle will work.” “Damn, I wish you picked slu*tty.”
― Neva Altaj, Painted Scars
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“There are only three things people understand in my world: loyalty, money, and death.”
― Neva Altaj, Painted Scars
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“The head of the Russian criminal syndicate. A drug dealer. A killer. And I managed to fall in love with him. Someone please just lock me up in a mental institution, because that’s apparently where I belong.”
― Neva Altaj, Painted Scars
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“I don’t know what to do to make my f*cked-up brain “un-f*ck” itself.”
― Neva Altaj, Painted Scars
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“Who the f*ck is Mark?” I jump and spin around to find Roman glaring down at me. “Why do you call him babe?” he demands. “And what kind of photo are you sending him?”
― Neva Altaj, Painted Scars
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“Now we wait for the maid to catch us cuddling.” “But we’re not doing that, are we? You’re just sitting in my lap.” Reaching with my hand, I move a long black strand of hair that’s fallen over her face, then holding her at the nape, lean in and place a kiss on her slender neck. With my other hand I find the slit of her dress and hear her sharp intake of breath when I start moving my fingers up her naked thigh.”
― Neva Altaj, Painted Scars
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“The idea of her in my clothes does something to my insides, and I imagine grabbing her and taking her to my bed. I don’t like that at all. This is a business deal and nothing else.”
― Neva Altaj, Painted Scars
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“Well, it looks like there are things no amount of money can buy.” “Yeah. That sucks. At least you can buy a wife.” I shrug. “For three million you could have gotten a whole harem, not just one.” Roman co*cks his head to the side, observing me with interest, and then leans in to whisper in my ear. “You, Nina Grey, are one strange woman.”
― Neva Altaj, Painted Scars
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“Even though I expected her to say no, for some reason, her reply stings.”
― Neva Altaj, Painted Scars
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“You like it?” “No.” “Why?” “I’m not a fan of large things,”
― Neva Altaj, Painted Scars
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“I close my eyes for a second and squeeze her tightly. It’s like everything around me stopped. “Then we share the same problem, malysh.” I say into her neck, and feel her go still next to me. When I raise my head and look at her, her lips are slightly quivering, and there are tears in the corners of her eyes. “That six-month deal? It’s off, Nina,” I say and squeeze her waist. “I don’t care what we agreed. You’re mine now and I’m not letting you go. Ever.”
― Neva Altaj, Painted Scars
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“I move to the corner, and Roman lies down on the sofa, places his head in my lap, and closes his eyes. “Does your leg hurt?” “Yes,” he says, but there is a slight delay in his reply. “Are you lying?” “Nope.” He shakes his head. His eyes are still closed, but the corners of his mouth lift a bit. “Oh yes, you are lying.” I bend down slightly. “You just want me to pet you.” He opens his eyes and reaches up to tuck one of the strands that’s escaped my ponytail behind my ear. “Yes,” he says and closes his eyes again.”
― Neva Altaj, Painted Scars
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“No holding my wrists or squeezing my neck.” She says, and I feel the cold rush down my spine. “Also, no pinning me down with your body.”
― Neva Altaj, Painted Scars
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“I googled you yesterday,” he says, still keeping my fingers in his hand, just an inch from his lips. “Who would have thought that such a delicate little hand could create such . . . disturbing art.”
― Neva Altaj, Painted Scars
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“Casi puedo ver las ruedas girando en su cabeza, sopesando las opciones, los pros y los contras, buscando una salida. No la hay, y ambos lo sabemos.”
― Neva Altaj, Cicatrices marcadas
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“Es leal, pero tiene la lengua más larga que la cuaresma.”
― Neva Altaj, Cicatrices marcadas
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“jump and spin around to find Roman glaring down at me. “Why do you call him babe?” he demands. “And what kind of photo are you sending him?” I blink at him and take a bite of my apple. “My pimp. All of us girls call him babe. And I’m sending a photo of my boobs.”
― Neva Altaj, Painted Scars
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“So, it looks like we’re just going to ignore his strange behavior. Works for me, because I don’t want to dwell on the fact that I like the idea of him being jealous.”
― Neva Altaj, Painted Scars
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“There have been a lot of women in my life, but with Nina in front of me, they all just fade away. We’ve never even kissed properly, other than for the sake of the show, but I don’t remember ever being this drawn to someone. It’s like she’s bewitched me.”
― Neva Altaj, Painted Scars
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“What’s going on?” “Something came up. Don’t wait up for me,” he says, and before I can object, he’s gone.”
― Neva Altaj, Painted Scars
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“But the drapes will have to go, honey. That shade of brown is so depressing. My feng shui guru says we should always throw out the things that depress us.” The sound of her voice is completely serious, her face a picture of perfect sincerity, but her eyes are laughing at me. I lean toward her. “Then we’ll burn them,” I say and kiss her.”
― Neva Altaj, Painted Scars
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“Are you trying to kiss me, Roman?” I whisper into his lips. “I might be,” he says. “There’s no one around to see us.” “Exactly,” he whispers and touches his lips to mine.”
― Neva Altaj, Painted Scars
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“You are a dangerous woman, malysh.” “What does that mean?” “Malysh? It’s a term of endearment. It means little one.”
― Neva Altaj, Painted Scars
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