Stay With Me (A BWWM Russian Billionaire Romance Novel) (Imani's Russian Billionaire Series Book 1) Read Online Free
putting on her makeup in the bathroom, she scolded herself yet again for thinking of Vladislav. She had far too much to do for her career to be daydreaming of happily-ever-after with a man she didn’t even know. She had twenty minutes to get to the restaurant where she was meeting Asha and Daya, so she spritzed on her favorite perfume, put her gold bangles on her wrist, hung some chunky gold earrings from her ears, and added a few gold rings to her fingers. She grabbed her Valentino bag, slipped on her ballet flats, and was just about to open the door when the doorbell rang.
She looked through the peephole only to see two hands holding an enormous bouquet of red roses. Her heart pounded as she opened the door.
“Are you Thania Walter?” The young teenager looked like he could barely carry the bouquet—there had to be at least five dozen red roses in the vase.
“Yes, yes,” she said as she waved the teenager inside and gestured toward a table for him to deposit it.
She grabbed some money out of her bag and tipped the boy before he left. All the while though, her sight was on the roses. She felt like her eyes were as big as saucers as she stared at it. She’d noticed almost immediately that there was a note peaking out from the beautiful stems, and she circled the table warily, hoping beyond hope that they were from Vladislav, but almost afraid to find out that they weren’t.
Finally, she grabbed the thick envelope with her name, ‘Thania’, written in bold, masculine script on the front. She tore it open, only barely noticing the richness of the stationery. It read:
Dear Thania,
I apologize for tracking you down like this, but from the moment I saw you yesterday at the photo shoot, I needed to know who you are. You see, I work with beautiful jewelry, each piece exquisite and unique. You, my darling Thania, possess these traits as well.
I am an impatient man—when I see something, or someone, that piques my interest, I want more. And I want to know more of you, Thania.
I would like to invite you to a gala that the jewelry company is throwing tonight. I am aware that it is short notice, and that you may have other plans. It is my hope that you were as affected by me as I was by you, and that you will be my guest. I will send a car to pick you up at 7 o’clock.
I hope to see you soon, my lovely Thania,
Vlad Sakharov
Thania read the note twice, stunned. She sat down with the piece of paper in her lap, touching the soft as silk red rose petals with her fingertips as she looked at the blank wall across her apartment.
He calls himself Vlad. I like that. Oh my God, I have never had a man write such amazing words to me in my entire life. He’s dangerous to my heart and my body, but right now I don’t much care. I can’t believe he went through the trouble of finding me!
She put the note in her bag and ran out the door, realizing that at that point she was going to be late to meet Asha and Daya.
But what a story I have to tell them …
“ W ait a minute ! Vladislav Sakharov asked you out?” Daya leaned across the table as she asked, her eyes lit up with excitement.
“Yes,” Thania replied with a small laugh. “That’s what I have been trying to tell you both.”
The three best girlfriends were eating brunch at their favorite downtown hotel-bar, the Hotelliere de Luxe. Asha ate her smoked salmon with avocado in silence; she’d barely said a word since Thania started to describe her interactions with Vlad.
“Where’s the note?” Daya asked, still leaning forward, her spinach salad with cranberry vinaigrette forgotten.
“It’s right here,” Thania said, taking it carefully out of her bag.
Daya reached over and plucked it right out of her hand.
“Hey!” Thania objected, but soon gave up as Daya completely ignored her and read the note.
“Oh Lord, this man has some sexy handwriting,” Daya murmured as she continued to look it over as if it held the secret nuclear codes or
She looked through the peephole only to see two hands holding an enormous bouquet of red roses. Her heart pounded as she opened the door.
“Are you Thania Walter?” The young teenager looked like he could barely carry the bouquet—there had to be at least five dozen red roses in the vase.
“Yes, yes,” she said as she waved the teenager inside and gestured toward a table for him to deposit it.
She grabbed some money out of her bag and tipped the boy before he left. All the while though, her sight was on the roses. She felt like her eyes were as big as saucers as she stared at it. She’d noticed almost immediately that there was a note peaking out from the beautiful stems, and she circled the table warily, hoping beyond hope that they were from Vladislav, but almost afraid to find out that they weren’t.
Finally, she grabbed the thick envelope with her name, ‘Thania’, written in bold, masculine script on the front. She tore it open, only barely noticing the richness of the stationery. It read:
Dear Thania,
I apologize for tracking you down like this, but from the moment I saw you yesterday at the photo shoot, I needed to know who you are. You see, I work with beautiful jewelry, each piece exquisite and unique. You, my darling Thania, possess these traits as well.
I am an impatient man—when I see something, or someone, that piques my interest, I want more. And I want to know more of you, Thania.
I would like to invite you to a gala that the jewelry company is throwing tonight. I am aware that it is short notice, and that you may have other plans. It is my hope that you were as affected by me as I was by you, and that you will be my guest. I will send a car to pick you up at 7 o’clock.
I hope to see you soon, my lovely Thania,
Vlad Sakharov
Thania read the note twice, stunned. She sat down with the piece of paper in her lap, touching the soft as silk red rose petals with her fingertips as she looked at the blank wall across her apartment.
He calls himself Vlad. I like that. Oh my God, I have never had a man write such amazing words to me in my entire life. He’s dangerous to my heart and my body, but right now I don’t much care. I can’t believe he went through the trouble of finding me!
She put the note in her bag and ran out the door, realizing that at that point she was going to be late to meet Asha and Daya.
But what a story I have to tell them …
“ W ait a minute ! Vladislav Sakharov asked you out?” Daya leaned across the table as she asked, her eyes lit up with excitement.
“Yes,” Thania replied with a small laugh. “That’s what I have been trying to tell you both.”
The three best girlfriends were eating brunch at their favorite downtown hotel-bar, the Hotelliere de Luxe. Asha ate her smoked salmon with avocado in silence; she’d barely said a word since Thania started to describe her interactions with Vlad.
“Where’s the note?” Daya asked, still leaning forward, her spinach salad with cranberry vinaigrette forgotten.
“It’s right here,” Thania said, taking it carefully out of her bag.
Daya reached over and plucked it right out of her hand.
“Hey!” Thania objected, but soon gave up as Daya completely ignored her and read the note.
“Oh Lord, this man has some sexy handwriting,” Daya murmured as she continued to look it over as if it held the secret nuclear codes or
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