Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Savina
A WEEK AFTER my disastrous first date with Pavel, my father hosts an engagement dinner at our house to make the announcement of our imminent marriage official.
Up until this point, no one in the family even knew about the contract or the upcoming wedding.
And they certainly didn’t know the grooms had changed.
Not that I’m allowed to tell anyone anything.
My father made it known this morning that everything is to be kept hush-hush and just between us.
My stepmother had the entire house decorated in white and pastel pinks with lilies in vases strewn about — Cosette’s favorite colors and flowers, of course.
God forbid she consults me for what I would like for my engagement party.
But in all honesty, I could care less at this point; because, the truth is, I don’t even want to be here right now.
She had the great room cleared out and transformed into a makeshift banquet hall.
We’re only expecting sixty guests or so for this intimate affair, so the whole thing feels like overkill to me, but Cosette does love to spend my father’s money.
And even more so, she loves showing off our wealth to others.
I’m standing by the hors d’oeuvres, looking over all the options and intent on eating my feelings over the next few hours when I feel a presence beside me. I don’t even have to turn to know who it is. My body is so attuned to his that it’s scary.
“Did you wear that short dress to entice all the men in this room?” Dimitri asks through clenched teeth.
I stare down at my white sequin mini dress, which I specifically bought for this party.
It is short, but maybe I wanted to show off my legs and curves a little.
Maybe a part of me was hoping my future husband would finally notice.
Not that Pavel has even so much as glanced twice in my direction since he arrived.
Heatedly, I step closer to Dimitri and ask, “Why? Does it offend you, Dimitri?” He glares at me, but I stand my ground.
He doesn’t scare me anymore. Not since I learned that he won’t be the one I’m marrying.
In fact, it’s freeing in a way. I feel like I can conquer the world now and not cower down to him like I always did before.
“Someone could literally stick their hand up your dress,” he says, his dark voice like a threat wrapped in velvet. And by the look on his face, it seems like he wants to test out his theory.
I straighten my spine and glare at him, daring him to push me too far. “I will scream the roof down of this house if you try anything,” I warn him, staring him dead in the eye.
My warning does little to deter him; however, and he steps impossibly closer to me, closing what little distance we had between us until the front of my body is touching his. “Are you even wearing panties, Savina?” he asks, practically seething.
“I guess you’ll never know the answer to that question,” I tell him before turning away.
And just for good measure, I walk over to the dessert table, bend over as far as my dress will allow, knowing that I’m practically flashing him, and maybe even the entire room, the bottom of my ass cheeks.
I’m wearing a thong, but this is still pretty damn scandalous as far as I’m concerned.
I’m not normally this brazen, but Dimitri is always lighting a fire inside of me that I can’t seem to control.
I lose my head when I’m around him. But I’m beginning to wonder if that’s such a bad thing.
At least it makes me feel alive, which is more than I can say about his brother.
When I grab a round, dark chocolate truffle, I turn and risk a glance at Dimitri. He’s leaning against the wall, his chest moving up and down rapidly with ragged breaths as he glares at me with what can only be described as contempt and…maybe desire.
And then to push him even further, I wrap my lips around the truffle, bite down, closing my eyes and moaning around the chocolate ball as I eat it slowly, seductively. God, anyone watching me right now might think I’m really into desserts.
When I finish the truffle, I open my eyes to find him again, but Dimitri is gone. Glancing around the room, I don’t even see him.
Good.
Rolling my eyes with a smile of satisfaction on my face, I go to the large table in the center of the room and sit in the seat next to Pavel.
The chair to my left is empty, and I have no idea who is going to be sitting there.
Hopefully someone who isn’t dreadfully boring; because, let’s face it, Pavel can’t even carry on a conversation with me without letting it die in the first few minutes.
We simply have nothing in common. That much was crystal freaking clear after our first date.
In fact, I’m not even sure that he likes me.
He’s just…indifferent, and I simply can’t get a read on him.
“Have you tried any of the desserts?” I lean over and ask Pavel in the hopes of letting our conversation blossom into something more advantageous.
“No,” he says quietly. “I’m not really into sweets,” he confesses with a frown.
“Oh,” I respond solemnly.
And then Pavel turns his back on me to speak with his bodyguard, Leo, who is seated on the other side of him. Well, then, that was…fun. I can just imagine our life together. Plain. Boring. About as exciting as watching paint dry on the walls.
I put my face in my hands, wanting to bang my head on the table just to get some excitement, and then almost laugh out loud at the absurdity of it all.
I thought the contract changing for me to marry Pavel was like winning the lottery or receiving a get out of jail free card.
It would be so much easier than being married to the devil personified.
Or so I thought. But the more I think about it, the more I’m now unsure about all of this.
At least with Dimitri, my life would be exciting.
We definitely have chemistry. And my cheeks heat at just the thought of how our wedding night would be. Hot and full of passion, no doubt.
I feel nothing like that with Pavel. But perhaps that will change over time. Or maybe it won’t, and we’ll be in the friends zone with one another for the rest of our lives, a nagging voice in the back of my mind says.
I’m wallowing in self-pity and a glass of red wine when Dimitri takes a seat beside me. Great, so this is where he’s sitting. Well, this should be interesting. On the bright side, at least I won’t be bored to tears. If Dimitri is anything, he’s definitely not boring.
I was beginning to wonder where he disappeared off to after I teased him. I still can’t believe I did that. There’s just something about him that makes me act irrationally. I want to push all of his buttons just like he did with me years ago back in high school.
Turning to Dimitri, I whisper to him with a knowing smirk, “I guess you didn’t enjoy my little show.” His features are solid, stone-cold, not giving anything away. “Couldn’t handle it?” I egg him on while raising the wine glass to my mouth and taking another sip.
“Oh, I could handle it,” he tells me. “In fact, I handled it in the bathroom, thinking about you bent over that dessert table and pushing my cock into your tight, wet cunt, until I came all over your stepmother’s clean, porcelain sink.”
I choke on my wine, sputtering and coughing.
Dimitri has never talked to me like this before.
I startle when I feel his hand wrap around my bare thigh, my knee simultaneously drawing up and knocking against the hard, unforgiving table.
The numerous wine and water glasses scattered across the top rattle loudly, drawing the attention of my father…
and all the other people now gathered around the table.
“Everything all right, Savina?” my father asks, eyeing me suspiciously.
“Yeah,” I manage to say. Then, I clear my throat and force out, “Yes, everything’s fine.”
When my father’s attention is drawn away by someone else, I turn and glower at Dimitri. “What do you think you’re doing?” I hiss under my breath.
“I’m not sure what you mean,” he says before his fingers languidly trail up my thigh and under the hem of my dress.
He leans over closer until I can smell the woodsy scent of his cologne mixed with a soft hint of tobacco and whiskey.
“You started this game,” he warns against the shell of my ear. “I’m simply finishing it.”
When his fingers reach the apex of my thighs, feeling the material of my thong, I think that he’ll finally stop.
He found out the answer to his question earlier about whether I was wearing panties or not.
His stupid game will end now. But when his hand possessively cups my pussy, I realize that he’s just getting started.
And what a dangerous game this is turning into.
I gasp in surprise and then try to cover it up with a cough. I glance around the table, thinking everyone will know what we’re doing, but they seem too engrossed in conversation. Meanwhile, I’m over here with my fiancé’s brother practically fingering me under the table.
This is so wrong. I tell myself to stop all of this. To get up and walk away.
But I stay rooted in my seat, unable to force myself to stop this risky game that can only end badly.
Part of me wants to see how far he’ll actually take it.
And another, bigger part of me wants him to want me, just like I’ve secretly and shamefully wanted him all these years.
God, the amount of times I’ve written down forbidden fantasies about Dimitri Sokolov in my journal are downright shameful.
Even though I hated him and probably always will hate him, he still manages to turn me on.
Maybe I’m just one of those girls who like villains, just like in Darby’s books.