The Agreement (Darkest Lies Trilogy Book 1) by Bethany-Kris (motivational books for men .TXT) 📕

Yes.

She could still hear the laughter.

Pressing her eyes closed, Karine tried to bring back that feeling of absolute abandon—something had made her giggle like a child. What was it?

“Are you alive?”

The deep voice broke through her hazy, high thoughts, and even before she opened her eyes, she recognized who it belonged to.

It was him.

The man from the pool.

The one who sent chills running down her spine and straight to her toes with nothing more than a flick of his brow. Karine took her time to open her eyes and see him, dragging in a slow breath all the while. She wanted to savor the moment.

Standing, he loomed over her in the chair, shaded by the ornate lantern-style lamps that hung in the patio. He was mostly hidden in silhouette above her, but she could somehow still look straight into his eyes.

A smirk—sinful and sly—curved those lips of his that had so entranced her earlier in the day. All over again, they did the same, making her own part with another quick inhale while he stared back at her.

“I don’t know how to,” she replied softly.

He was standing so close to her that she got a whiff of his masculine scent in the light breeze. A combination of musky cologne and cigarettes. Heavy, and delicious. She pulled in another lungful of air just to taste it again on her tongue.

“What is that supposed to mean?” he asked, leaning a little closer.

Karine froze up. They were nearly close enough to touch, and she wasn’t sure she could handle that. She still wasn’t sure why he made her react the way he did.

His brows furrowed as he kneeled down, reaching out with his thick fingers. Their gazes stayed locked together when he found some stray hairs over her face and tucked them back behind her ear with the softest touch.

“What don’t you know how to do?” he asked, the demand coming out smooth and unconcerned.

For a moment, she was almost completely honest and told him the truth—she didn’t know how to be alive, or how to live, for that matter. This was her existence. He was looking right at it. Stolen liquor, fuzzy days and forgotten nights, a myriad of pills, and an entire world where she didn’t belong, but everyone else seemed determined to keep her right there inside of it.

Despite the fog of the drinks and the pills that clogged up her mind, she knew better than to raise his suspicions any further. The truth had never helped her before.

“I meant,” she whispered, “I don’t know how to answer that question, of course, I’m alive.”

Roman remained exactly where he was, just a mere inch away, and close enough for the scent of spiced liquor to dance on his every breath.

“My name is Karine.”

“You just read my mind,” he said, chuckling low. “That was my next question.”

His laughter truly was a beautiful sound.

An echo in her mind, now.

When his lips curled in a smile, Karine sunk further into the chair, amazed at the very sight. Suddenly, there was nowhere else she wanted to be but right there.

With him.

NINE

The last time Roman saw Karine, her hair was damp—slick as it framed her face. Now, dried in soft waves with only a little frizz, he could appreciate how it was still as dark as the night. All he wanted to do was sink his fingers into her hair to feel the softness tease his roughened palms.

He was glad she told him her name because he hadn’t stopped thinking about her all day. It would have been nice to have her name when they first met so he could have put a name to the face—and in his fantasies of her that had kept him company while he attempted to feign interest over the day and evening at the mansion.

Roman had enough sense than to go digging around, trying to uncover her identity in the Yazov household. If they wanted him to know who she was, he would eventually find out. So, he considered himself lucky that he’d found her again, even though the circumstances seemed less than ideal.

Again.

The universe had a funny way of working.

It wasn’t difficult for him to figure out what was wrong with her—why she had that distant look in her eyes while she laid there seemingly having her own private conversation with the stars. In her own world.

The girl was fucked up.

High as a kite—probably drunk, too, considering everyone else there sure as hell was at the moment. Except for him. Roman didn’t trust these people enough to get plastered around them.

Karine hadn’t even taken the trouble to hide the pills in her medication-induced stupor. The fluorescent plastic bottle in her right hand with pills stuffed inside it rattled when she moved. The trouble was he couldn’t figure out what those pills exactly were without trying to get a better look inside the bottle. Maybe then he could determine if she needed attention.

Medically.

“Do you want me to go get you some help?” he asked, leaning a bit over her and gazing between her and the remaining pills in the bottle.

Maybe he shouldn’t have touched her hair like that, tucking it behind her ear. He still didn’t know who she was and if he was even supposed to be talking to her, but his fingertips also couldn’t forget how she almost leaned in to be touched again, either.

For some reason—she was in the house but hadn’t been invited to Maxim’s party. She wasn’t working like the staff members, either. What was that about?

“Thank you, Roman. Nobody ever asks me that, you’re very kind to ... but no, I don’t need anybody’s help. In fact, I would prefer it if everyone left me alone.”

She spoke in a low voice, barely meeting his eyes while her lashes fluttered as if she was falling into a dream. Even her words ended on a slow hum he had to carefully decipher. Yet, she remembered his name from back when Maxim said it