Training Her Curves - Geneva (A BBW Billionaire Domination and Submission Romance) Read Online Free PDF Page B

refuse -- neither will I."
    Tomorrow...
    The schedule didn't give me much time to execute my plan. I excused myself for another bathroom break and disappeared down the hall. Through lunch, I had been reading the folders with one hand and searching with the browser on my phone with the other. I had a location picked, I just needed to contact the agent and book it -- if it was available.
    I punched the number in. A woman answered. She walked me through the details, took my payment information and arranged for a driver as well. I hung up, returned to the conference room and lied about not feeling well then I went to my room, packed a small bag and returned to the ground floor to wait for the driver to show.
    I wasn't running away again -- quite the opposite. At a little after four, I texted an address to Dylan and a time for him to arrive.
     

Dylan
     
    The house rested high in the alpine foothills to the south of Geneva. Receiving Joey's text, I had done a quick web search of the address. I tried to call her, but she didn't answer. Mishka immediately ran a trace on her phone's location, which matched the address she had given me.
    Riona swore no knowledge of what was going on.
    Hope warred with caution in my head and chest. A search of her room showed no sign of a struggle. The text, even if she didn't send it, told me she hadn't run away. But the briefing Mishka had given me on some of the names, all members of organized crime in Russia and Eastern Europe, with strong operations along the Atlantic seaboard, had me worried that her leaving hadn't been voluntary. A check of the hotel cameras, however, showed her leaving with a small bag, alone but with an anxious face.
    "I think it's your lucky night, my friend," Mishka said, his fingers strumming along the top of the steering wheel. A long paused followed and then he unleashed his twisted humor on me. "Or you're going to die a terrible death."
    "Have I told you lately how much I hate you?" I joked back.
    "It's been awhile." He shrugged, the side of his mouth that I could see curling up in a smile. "I was beginning to feel neglected. But I'm sure it's fine."
    "So the three cars behind us are there because?"
    "I get lonely," he offered, his grin climbing higher up his cheek. "I can check the house out first."
    "No," I answered too quickly. I had a vision of Joey in my head, her choicest curves barely concealed by one of the outfits she'd modeled in the fall catalog. Looking at the proofs of the shoot had been absolute torture abated only by a trip to the executive bathroom and the relief only temporary.
    Pulling out my phone, I called Mishka's phone number, he answered and then I slid my phone back into my breast pocket. Stepping out of the car, I shut the door.
    "Hear me okay?"
    "Da," he answered in his native tongue.
    I circled the car and approached the stairs that would take me up to the main level. The house was built for privacy. The road ended in a turnout carved into the mountain with only garage doors accessible on the same level. I imagined there were interior stairs as well, but the doors were closed.
    Up the steps I went, their path rounding behind the house, which was actually the front in terms of the layout inside.
    "Still good?" I asked, my hand poised to knock. With all the apprehension over Joey's safety battering my insides, I promised I would give her one hell of a spanking if she had summoned me here for a private talk.
    "Fantastic," the big Russian answered drily.
    My hand fell against the door three times in quick succession. I heard the approach of footsteps, heels against stone flooring. Liking the sound, I told my face to relax but the muscles remained lifted in a rictus of worry. I one hundred percent would spank her sweet ass if she was okay.
    The door opened. A blonde goddess wrapped in a black silk dress looked up at me from beneath heavy lashes darkened by mascara.
    Fuck...she looked just like some of the catalog shoots with just a pinch more