Aeromancist - The Beginning (Seven Forbidden Arts 2)

“Of course not,” he said with a curt nod. “I’ll wait outside. Let me know if you need help.”

Once they were alone, Diana said, “Holy cow! He’s even hotter in real life than in the blurry social media photos.” She pulled Kat down onto the sofa next to her. “What happened? I thought you were going to resist.”

“Don’t give me that I-told-you-so smile. He sent me a book, a very precious book, and I went to return it and I… I guess you could say I realized running wasn’t going to help.”

Diana lifted Kat’s hand and stared at the ring. “Shit. Is this what I think it is?”

“He just wants me to wear this for the month we’re together.”

“Month?”

“It’s a thirty-day thing.”

“A one-month stand?” Diana exclaimed.

“I know it’s out of character for me—”

“It’s about time you act out of character. I’m glad for you, Kat. Jealous as hell, but glad.”

Kat gave her a thankful smile.

“So, getting your stuff,” Diana gave her a nudge, “does that mean you’re moving in with him?”

“Just for the month.”

“Okay. I get it. You’re playing house for a month.” Diana got to her feet. “Listen, I know I’m the one who pushed you to go for it, but I was more thinking along the lines of a one-off roll between the sheets. Are you sure you’re okay with a month? It seems a bit weird with the ring and all.”

“I agreed, didn’t I?” When Diana hesitated, Kat added, “I can always come home if I grow tired of the game.”

Diana grinned. “Grow tired of him? Improbable. I better help you pack then. Can I tell people where you are, I mean, if anyone asks?”

“Sure, but let me tell my parents myself.”

“Of course.” Diana smiled conspiratorially. “Is he as good in bed as they say?”

Kat fought a face-splitting smile. “I’ve only been there for a couple of hours.”

Diana winked. “If you say so.”

Escaping the interrogation Kat felt coming, she got up and went for the door. “I better let him back in.”Kat took little time to change before throwing a few outfits, personal items, her laptop, notes, and files into a bag. Despite the confidence she faked for Diana’s sake, she still couldn’t believe she was doing this. Lann and Diana helped her to get her books together. Poor Diana found it hard not to stare. As Lann took her bag, she gave Diana a hug and promised to call her. A short while later, they were gone, driving back to Lann’s place.

At home, Alfonso took her bag up to her room while Lann guided her to the kitchen. He told her the chef had already retired for the night, and that she’d meet the rest of the kitchen and cleaning staff the following day.

The kitchen was a long hall with a central counter running all the way down the middle. Everything was white, except for the stainless-steel counters and shelves. There were no less than five eye-level ovens and three double gas stoves.

Following her gaze, Lann said, “I’m planning on doing some entertaining. A necessary evil, sometimes.”

His statement didn’t surprise her. She’d already gathered that Lann wasn’t a social person.

He wrapped his hands around her waist and lifted her onto the counter.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Fixing you a hot cocoa to help you sleep.”

He knew about her difficulty sleeping? She watched him heat up milk on the stove, stir dark chocolate inside, and whisk it with a pinch of nutmeg until it was frothy. He poured it into a glass mug and sprinkled cinnamon on top.

“Drink up, krasavitsa,” he said, handing her the mug.

His voice was deep and low, sending delicious vibrations through her body. His Russian accent made her melt.

He watched her as she drank, standing very close to her with his palms on the counter on either side of her body. When the mug was empty, he took it from her without breaking eye contact, and left it on the counter. Then he removed his glasses and leaned forward, brushing his lips over hers.

She quickly got lost in the kiss. When she parted her lips, he gripped her knees and pushed her legs open to stand between them. He stroked his palms up her legs and her hips to cup her ass, lifting her slightly and pulling her against him. His erection rubbed against her clit. She gasped at the pressure. Tangling her hands in his hair, she dragged her fingers through the long, thick strands, inviting a deep male groan. He liked that. He jerked her against him again, harder this time, setting her body on fire. She tipped back her head to give him better access when he kissed her neck, but then his touch and heat disappeared.

Dazed, she opened her eyes.

“Prekrasnaya,” he said softly.

She had no idea what it meant, but it sounded tender, affectionate.