Chapter 2 #2
“Hold on. Hold the fuck on,” I growled, pushing up from the couch, making sure I didn’t wobble. I was lightheaded, but Kirill was pissing me off so much with his steamrolling, all the blood stubbornly refused to drain to my feet. “I haven’t agreed to anything.”
He gripped my arm and pulled me against him. He lowered his head close to mine as a clear sign of intimidation. “From the moment I captured you in the woods, you’ve been devoid of choice. Listen. Peter wants to talk to me. I told my soldier to tell him I’m with my fiancée.”
“That’s your problem for lying!”
“No, it’s our problem because you killed his younger brother.” He enunciated the last five words, stressing that Viktor wasn’t only an important member of the Moscow mob, but Peter’s sibling. “We’re not going in circles about this.”
He yanked me out of what looked like his study and didn’t pause dragging me when I yelped at the cuts on the soles of my feet.
“Ow. Ow. Ow.”
We paused at the bottom of a sweeping staircase, his eyes lowering to my bare feet. “My housekeeper will tend to your injuries.”
“I’m fine. Hydrogen peroxide will be enough.”
“Good, I don’t need to carry you.”
I reclaimed my arm from his grip. “No need to drag me around like a child either. Where are we going?”
“Get you cleaned up before the matchmaker arrives.”
“I haven’t agreed.”
Kirill narrowed his eyes at me before turning around and heading up the staircase. “Like I said, I’m not the one who’s going to convince you. I don’t have enough patience, and I’d rather not murder my bride before the ceremony.”
I bit back a smile. If he had meant to insult or scare me, it didn’t land that way. He was irritated. Good. That squinting of his eyes was a giveaway, which he quickly disguised as he resumed ascending the stairs. I followed him. “Now, is that the way my betrothed is supposed to behave?”
Kirill didn’t answer me, but since I had a view of his back, I observed his bearing.
Broad-shouldered, ramrod straight. His posture spoke of military training.
Background information was sparse and, I bet, buried under layers of lies.
There were unconfirmed reports that he had spent his adolescence in Siberia.
He led me into one of the bedrooms. I was surprised to find the purse and the shoes I’d lost at the club.
“My men collected those after Viktor threw them away.”
I rushed to my purse and checked its contents. Wallet and keys…but my phone and—
“Why do you have lockpicks in your purse?” he asked.
I gave a nonchalant reply. “They come in handy.”
“Sato has them. He’ll return them to you when you leave.”
“What’s the matter? Afraid I’ll snoop around?”
“Viktor destroyed your phone.” He ignored my baiting and tipped his chin toward the bathroom. “You can wash up there. Margo will bring clothes for you to wear.”
“When will she be here?”
“You have a couple of hours.” He checked his phone. “She’s scrambling to draw up the papers, and she said you have a few hours to sleep.”
I held my tongue and didn’t argue that I hadn’t agreed yet. Kirill didn’t specify what type of marriage he was looking for. Ideally, it would be a marriage in name only, and we could do whatever we wanted—separately. I might even move to Europe for the duration of our union.
Once divorced, even Margo wouldn’t have any say anymore because my covenant with her only applied to the first marriage. Wait, I wasn’t considering marriage to him, was I?
“And you? Where will you be?”
A wicked amusement danced on his mouth again. “Are you going to miss me?”
I rolled my eyes.
He approached like a predator stalking its prey. I held my ground. He couldn’t hurt me. Not with the matchmaker coming by later, but it didn’t mean he didn’t rattle my survival instincts. He brushed the back of his fingers down my face, and I gave an involuntary shiver.
What the hell?
“This might be fun,” he murmured.
“I doubt it.”
“That sounds like a challenge, but I will have to take a rain check. I have to make sure my tech guy made it look like you left the club with me in the surveillance footage.”
Deep fakes were becoming craftier and more advanced, and organized crime used them for extortion. It was hard to believe what you saw anymore.
“Margo will take care of the press,” he added.
“Wait, what?”
The satisfaction washing over Kirill’s face eliminated every advantage I thought I had with him.
Two fingers clasped my chin and brought my face closer to his. I gritted my teeth at how intimate the gesture came across.
“Insurance,” he muttered.
“This isn’t the eighteenth century. You can’t compromise me simply by keeping me in your house. Am I going to do the walk of shame outside your door?” I jerked my face from his grasp. “Where do you live anyway?”
He dropped his hand. “Later, Lusenka. I have a laundry list of things to take care of cleaning up your mess.”
“It’s not my mess!”
He shot me a blank look before he exited the room. He left the door open.
I walked over to it and slammed it shut so he’d know exactly how I felt about his proposal.