Free The Deception by Marquita Valentine Page A

family, Roman.”
    I can, for a thousand years if necessary.  I wish she wasn’t meeting them at all. “Are you getting drowsy, love?”
    “A little, but don’t stop teasing. Don’t stop talking,” she says, her voice full of affection I could never earn.
    Once more, I press a kiss to the top of her head and begin to speak of my grandfather’s home, of the horses he raises, and the massive hounds that run the place. Of the food and the rich land that surround his estate.
    Despite the easy flow of my words, a sort of dread settles within the pit of my gut. I know, without a doubt, that Everly and I are heading towards death.
    But whose death is the question.
    My half-brother, mine... Or worse, Everly’s.

CHAPTER TWO
    THE DECEPTION
    B y the time we land in Paris, Everly is sleeping soundly. She’s curled up around me, her legs tangled up in mine.
    Although I know it is futile, I wish for mornings like this.
    This is the hardest part of getting involved with Everly, because now I know the feel and taste of her. I know her . Before, I only knew her scent and smile, not her inner thoughts. Only what she chose to share with me each Wednesday.
    When she is safe, and I leave her, I know what misery awaits. The bleakness and emptiness that will consume my soul, without the sunshine she provides.
    I take a sustaining breath, drawing in her scent.
    It’s a pity the room remained shrouded in darkness during our flight, because I would have liked to watch her sleep. I would have enjoyed memorizing the way she looked while dreaming.
    Perhaps she is still dreaming. Perhaps she dreams of me, of our time together, and what happened between us, before we were so rudely interrupted.
    My dick grows hard at the memory of her perfect breasts, her hand stroking me, and her intoxicating kisses. With a grimace, I adjust myself and endure my painfully hard erection.
    In any case, I allowed myself to sleep for a short period of time. It has to be enough for what we’ll face once we’re at my grandfather’s. He is not one to tolerate surprises, not even from a favorite grandson. Though, he has a taste for beautiful women. The one lying in my arms certainly fits the descriptor, but more than that, she’s beautiful on the inside.
    So, there is a chance that he might allow us to come through the heavily guarded gates and into the house unharmed.
    As I rub my eyes, it hits me. Vladimir—my father—needs to be told as well. Perhaps I should meet with him, before we travel to my grandfather’s. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I send him a text, asking to meet, and then slip it back in place.
    Everly burrows into me, her cold nose pressing into my neck.
    With a thick exhale, I extricate myself, leaving the warmth of her embrace to put on my shoes, and check the cabin. My Glock is secure under my shirt, in the waistband of my trousers, and I feel a modicum of security.
    The main cabin is empty, and the door to the plane wide open for us to disembark to a private lounge for drinks and food, if we so desire.
    The fine hairs on the back of my neck rise, and I carefully pull out my gun.
    “Nikolai,” Viktor says as he walks inside, arms loosely hanging by his sides. The bastard isn’t remotely afraid of me, of my gun, or what I might do to him. But then, has the teacher ever been afraid of the student? “How fortuitous to run into you in Paris.”
    I flatten my mouth and cross my arms over my chest, keeping my gun visible. The position is not exactly a threatening one, but it does let Viktor know I do not trust him.
    “Always the conversationalist.” He scans the room, his black gaze noting the purse Everly left behind. “Where is she?”
    “In bed.” I take a step to the right, fully blocking his view of the hallway that leads to her.
    He laughs. “The Monk has shed his robes.”
    An insult if there ever was one, coming from a man who prides himself on how many women he’s fucked, and never shuts up about it. For years, I overlooked