Free Russian Tattoos Obsession by Kat Shehata Page B

Change Up: I hugged him. “You’re too good to me.”
    “You deserve it all and more.”
    I pulled back. “It’ll take me a while to get ready. I need to wash my hair.”
    “I’ll wait a lifetime for you.”

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter 14
     
     
    Purr
                 
    Out of all the glamorous dresses to choose from, I decided on a long, dark red velvet one with a slit up the side. I paired it with Prada heels with straps that wrapped around my ankles and a gorgeous Gucci cross-body purse.
    I admired my reflection and wondered if Ryan would recognize me as girlfriend material if he saw me dressed as a sophisticated woman rather than a buddy-buddy gym rat sporting baggy sweats and a long scraggly ponytail—my official weekday uniform. Then I wondered how Vladimir would see me. Was I just his precious Sophia’s spunky, fucked-up little sister who needed to be rescued…or in some messed up way was I her replacement ?
    I emerged from the bedroom with my hair waving over my shoulders. Boris eyed my attire and gave me his look . I put my hand on my hip. “Boss picked it out.”
    “Ah, she speaks.”
    I flashed him a sarcastic grin.
    “He’s out back.” Boris held up a full-length shearling coat. I slipped my arms into the sleeves, and he issued a warning over my shoulder: “Behave yourself tonight.”
    “If you’re referring to alcohol consumption, I won’t be drinking. No one serves underage girls outside of this house.”
    “If you say so, dear.”
    Out on the patio, the heat lamps were ablaze, and the scent of burning firewood filled the air. Vladimir changed out of his work clothes and donned a slick black European style suit with a crisp white shirt unbuttoned a few notches—he did have tats on his chest along with a couple gold chains around his neck. A blue-eyed inked devil peeked at me from behind his shirt.
    “You’re stunning, Carter.” His gaze moved slowly up and down my body. “Something is missing, though.” Vladimir held up his hand and dangling from his finger was a gold choker encrusted with champagne diamonds. “It accentuates your beautiful eyes.” He motioned for me to turn around.
    I opened my mouth to protest, but before I could utter a word—
    “I insist.”
    I gave in and lifted my hair so he could clasp it around my neck. Once it was secure, I let my hair down and brought my hands up to my neck to feel the necklace. “It’s beautiful.”
    “Not as beautiful as you.”
    My heart pounded and my stomach was all fluttery from the Molotov cocktail of emotions swirling in my gut. I’d been so lonely and depressed the last few days—because of Vladimir—and now I was filled with nervous excitement because he was treating me like his most prized possession.
    He escorted me through the house and when we reached the kitchen, he lifted the car keys from the drawer. “This is a Ferrari night. Want to drive?”
    “I don’t think so, Mr. Ivanov.” I resisted his insane idea all the way to the driver’s side. I gave up the struggle then, knowing I wouldn’t win. “I don’t have much experience.”
    “I’ll teach you everything you need to know.” He sat me down and adjusted the seat so I could reach the pedals. He slid in on the passenger side and positioned my hands on the wheel.
    “Put your foot on the brake and push the button.”
    I did what he said. The engine purred.
    “What do I do now?”
    “Relax, angel. Listen to the sound of the engine. When it’s ready to go, you’ll feel it. The car has a mind of its own.”
    He was right. Moments later, the tone of the purr registered lower. “Now?”
    “You’re a natural.”
    “Where’s the stick?”
    “No stick. To reverse, hold down the brake and tap the paddles.” After a few more instructions, I rolled the Ferrari out of the garage, tapped it in drive, and pulled out onto the main road. Damn, it was intimidating. I felt like a jockey holding back a thoroughbred from breaking for the