With This Ring Read online Georgia Le Carre

Categories Genre: Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 86947 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
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The design was complete. And it was beautiful.

Sounds and thoughts rushed in my consciousness again. I put the stones back into their plastic envelope and walked out of the office. I went to my bedroom and looked at the tie Maxim had left in the hotel bedroom. In his rush to get away from me he had even forgotten he came in with a tie.

It was a silk Christian Lacroix with an intricate gold pattern. I tried not to, but I couldn’t help myself. I raised the fabric to my nose and sniffed his very familiar and just plain intoxicating scent of wealth and arrogance.

This tie was a reason to contact him. He didn’t need it returned, probably had a hundred more abandoned in hotel rooms all over the world, but still … I breathed his scent in.

What would be the harm?

I picked up my cell phone, and before I could change my mind, I hit Call.

It rang three times.

Just as I was about to chicken out and disconnect the call, he picked up. I had a lump to work through in my throat before I could speak.

“Hey,” I croaked out.

“Hello,” he replied formally.

I tried my best not to think of the way I had whimpered and shuddered underneath him. “I have … uh … You uh … left your tie at the hotel.” I clenched my eyes tightly shut at the clear note of anxiousness in my voice.

“I’ll send someone to pick it up,” he said softly.

I received the message. As clear as day. It felt as if I just swallowed shards of glass. It cut me all the way to my stomach.

He got what he wanted and now he wanted nothing more to do with me.

“Sure,” I replied and quickly ended the call.

Chapter Fifty-Six

Maxim

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BxuY9FET9Y4

It was nearing 9pm, and getting the report that she was still at work, I hadn’t been able to hold myself back from stopping by. I sat in the car and watched as she moved around in her little office.

She was wearing a navy-blue dressing gown and her hair was up in a gigantic and messy bun on top of her head. Time after time, she walked past the window with a pencil in her mouth and papers in her hand. I took a deep breath and knocked on the glass partition.

One last time, Maxim. One last time.

Viktor pulled the door open for me and I stepped out onto the dirty Bronx street. The lift had stopped working and I had to take the stairs. The sound of my shoes echoed in the empty stairwell. A few minutes later, I knocked on her door and waited for a response.

“Who is it?” she called out.

“Maxim,” I responded and everything seemed to go still. I waited. More than a few seconds passed, the door was pulled open. Her hair was now falling down in a cascade down her shoulders and she had put on lipstick. I was shocked to see she had made an effort. My words came out wooden and cold.

“I came for my tie.”

“Sure,” she replied airily, and turned away from me.

I followed her into her living room. It was dimly lit by a small lamp on the floor. The whole space seemed filled with papers and magazines and loose sheets of papers filled with drawings. A cup of half-eaten ramen noodles was on the coffee table. I presumed this then was Freya in work mode.

She turned around suddenly, the way someone nervous would do, and her long dressing gown caught the cup of noodles, spilling its contents on the floor.

“Damn!” she cursed. “Excuse me.” She headed over to her desk and grabbed some paper towels. A few minutes later she had the spill under control. I didn’t move from my position by the door. I found it fascinating to watch her in her own environment. I even liked her apartment. It seemed cozy and sweet.

“Sorry about that,” she said, straightening. “I’ll get you your tie now.”

“No problem,” I murmured.

She fished it out of a drawer, neatly rolled up, and came towards me holding it out.

“I don’t have a clean bag here so perhaps just take it by hand. Hope you don’t mind.”

“It’s fine," I said, and stuffed it into my jacket’s pocket.

She pressed her lips together and swallowed.

“Your partner isn’t back?”

She shook her head. “Sadly no, but perhaps soon.”

“Why don’t you hire someone for the meantime?” I asked, looking around at the whirlwind around her. “It seems like you have quite a lot going on.”

Her smile was sad. “Hiring someone requires money, which I don’t have now, so I’ll have to make do.”

I didn’t understand her need to do everything all on her own, but I admired it. I had never met a woman who was so strong and independent. So determined to be free.


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