Chapter 5 - Irina #2
The question hung in the air between them, loaded with implications that had nothing to do with lingerie and everything to do with power. She watched his eyes track over the garment, imagining it on her body, and felt a dangerous thrill at the way his breathing seemed to quicken.
This was what Rhiannon had taught her, what all her sisters-in-law understood instinctively. Sometimes, the most effective weapon a woman possessed was her ability to make a man want what he couldn’t have.
“I think,” Matvei said carefully, “that you’re playing a dangerous game.”
“I think you’re right.” She stepped closer, close enough that the corset was almost brushing against his chest. “But here’s the thing about dangerous games, husband. Sometimes the most dangerous player is the one no one sees coming.”
The endearment was deliberate, calculated to remind him of exactly what he’d gotten himself into when he’d forced that marriage license on her. But as the word left her lips, something shifted in the air between them, transforming the space from battlefield to something far more treacherous.
His hand came up to touch the lace, his fingers brushing against hers where she held the garment. The contact sent electricity shooting up her arm, and she had to fight not to shiver at the unexpected intensity of it.
“Irina.” Her name on his lips was rough, almost pained, and for a moment, she saw something vulnerable flash across his features before his mask slammed back into place.
“Yes?” The word came out breathier than she’d intended, and she cursed her body’s traitorous response to his proximity.
Instead of answering, he took the corset from her hands, his fingers deliberately brushing against hers as he did. The touch was electric, sending heat racing through her veins in a way that made her suddenly, acutely aware of how close they were standing.
“Turn around,” he said softly.
The command sent a shiver down her spine that had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with the dark promise in his voice. She should refuse, should maintain the upper hand she’d worked so hard to establish. Instead, she found herself complying, turning so her back was to him.
His hands settled on her shoulders, warm and solid through the thin fabric of her new blouse. She could feel his breath against her neck as he leaned down, his voice a whisper that seemed to bypass her brain and go straight to her nervous system.
“Hold your hair up.”
Her hands moved without conscious thought, gathering the dark strands and lifting them away from her neck. The position left her feeling exposed, vulnerable in a way that had nothing to do with physical danger and everything to do with the way he was looking at her.
The corset appeared in her peripheral vision as he held it up against her, the black lace a stark contrast against the pale silk of her blouse. His hands were steady as he positioned it, but she could feel the tension radiating from his body, the careful control he was exerting over himself.
“It would look beautiful on you,” he murmured, his lips close enough to her ear that she could feel the warmth of his breath. “But then again, I think you’d look beautiful in anything. Or nothing at all.”
The words sent heat pooling low in her belly, and she had to bite back a gasp at the unexpected intensity of her body’s response. This wasn’t supposed to happen. She was supposed to be in control, supposed to be using his attraction against him, not falling victim to her own.
“Matvei.” His name escaped her lips before she could stop it, and she heard him inhale sharply at the sound.
His hands tightened on her shoulders, and for a moment, she thought he might spin her around, might close the distance between them and take what the air between them was practically screaming for. Instead, he stepped back abruptly, the sudden absence of his heat leaving her feeling bereft.
“We should go,” he said, his voice rough with suppressed desire. “Now.”
The spell broken, Irina let her hair fall back around her shoulders and turned to face him. His face was a mask of control, but she could see the fire still burning in his golden eyes, the way his hands were clenched at his sides as if he didn’t trust himself not to reach for her again.
“Go where?” she asked, proud of how steady her voice sounded despite the chaos raging inside her.
“Home.” The word was clipped, final. “You’ve made your point, whatever it was. But you can’t just wander around the city whenever the mood strikes you. It’s too dangerous.”
The patronizing tone snapped her back to reality, reminding her why she was here in the first place. She wasn’t some lovesick girl who could be distracted by a few heated moments and some pretty words. She was a Nikolai, and she had a job to do.
“Dangerous for who?” she asked, selecting several more pieces of lingerie with deliberate casualness. “For me, or your plans?”
His silence was answer enough.
“I’ll make you a deal,” she said, moving to the counter to pay for her purchases. “I won’t disappear again without telling you where I’m going. But in return, you don’t get to dictate my every move like I’m some kind of prisoner.”
“You’re my wife,” he said, the possessiveness in his tone making her pulse quicken despite herself. “That gives me certain rights.”
“Rights you only have because you forced them on me.” She turned to face him fully, noting the way his eyes tracked her movements like a predator watching prey.
“But if you want this marriage to work, even as a business arrangement, you’re going to have to accept that I’m not going to be a docile little trophy you can trot out when convenient. ”
The challenge hung between them, electric and dangerous. For a moment, she thought he might push back, might try to assert the dominance he clearly craved. Instead, he stepped closer, close enough that she had to tilt her head back to meet his gaze.
“Fine,” he said softly. “But understand this, wife. If you think you can play games with me and win, you’re more naive than your brothers believe. I’ve been in this business longer than you’ve been alive, and I don’t lose.”
The threat should have scared her. Instead, it sent a thrill of anticipation racing through her veins.
“We’ll see about that, husband,” she said, matching his tone. “We’ll see about that.”