Chapter 35

Anton

Iwatched Mishka stare out the window as we approached the private air strip on the estate. I had many of my own properties around the world, but the largest ones were shared amongst myself and my brothers.

And this one was in a particularly lush setting, overlooking the Pacific Ocean.

I hoped to impress the rare beauty sitting across from me. I hoped she would like what I could offer her enough to let me keep her. I would keep her, I affirmed for the thousandth time. I would find a way. I had to.

It wasn't merely her extraordinary beauty, or her exceptional talent. It was all the adorable, perplexing, confounding things that made Mishka who she was. Like her adorably substantial appetite.

Where the tiny thing put all those calories, only God knew. I had kept her running around of late. Perhaps when life slowed down, when she spent more time in my bed than on her feet, she would plump up a bit. I would love her no matter what, I realized. I would love her just as passionately with gray hair and crow's feet. She would be adorable and lovable at every phase of life.

And I knew without a doubt that she would forever keep me on my toes. I could not wait for little Mishka to lead me on a merry chase.

I hid a smile as I stared at her, trying not to be obvious. Her already huge eyes were wide as she looked out at the orange sky and rolling hills of Sonoma County.

She was still eating.

"Probably best to take a break until we are on the ground," I said, now openly grinning at her. "I don't want you to choke when the wheels hit the runway."

She gave me a pert look and daintily dabbed the corners of her mouth with her napkin. She was so damned cute. It was astonishing.

My smile got wider. I stared at her wolfishly. Her cheeks turned pink as she studiously ignored me, staring out the window as the plane started the final descent.

"I promise to feed you more," I said, then let my eyes drip lower. "I, myself, am ravenous."

Her eyes got wide. She blushed. I laughed.

"I promise that I will just take a little nibble. Unless you offer me more."

Her mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again.

The wheels hit the ground at that moment jostling us just a little bit. Her eyes flew to mine, then out the window. She had been nervous about flying the first time. This time she had barely noticed the takeoff or landing.

My little bird was learning to fly.

And soon, she would learn a whole lot more.

Today was the day, I could feel it. We both knew it. But I had lied to my little bird.

I planned on taking much more than a little nibble.