Chapter 4 #2
It took all my self-restraint not to grab the cup. Our fingers touched in the exchange, and I jolted at the contact. I stared at the cup, refusing to look at Kirill. I didn’t know what the heck that was. Probably my nervousness.
“I trust the shoes are comfortable?” he asked.
My brows cinched together in confusion. He was staring at my feet.
“Kirill told me you’d hurt your feet and to bring you appropriate footwear,” Margo said, not without a hint of gloating in her tone that was a one-eighty from her resigned one earlier. I glanced sharply at her.
Her eyes sparkled with satisfaction. “I’ll have you know, Kirill, I had to wake up an associate of mine to find those particular shoes.”
I returned my attention to the ivory pumps that matched my dress.
My toes squirmed inside them, and I tentatively shifted from foot to foot.
I didn’t give them a second thought. I’d forgotten about the cuts on my feet.
The insoles were fully padded and conformed to my arch. The chunky heels made it easy to walk.
Reluctantly, as if his eyes commanded me, my gaze pulled to his amazing blue irises.
The surrounding whites were bloodshot and glazed like he hadn’t slept at all.
I figured mine appeared the same. I had an odd desire to see his eyes in a well-rested state.
How blue and arresting they would be. I’d always perceived them as icy, but maybe the warmth of the morning sunlight had something to do with it.
He raised a brow in question. Then I remembered I hadn’t answered him.
“That was extremely thoughtful of you.” And I meant it with no sarcasm.
“See, I have the qualities to make a good husband.”
I disguised a smile by sipping my coffee.
My mouth twitched. The word charming and the name Kirill were an oxymoron.
I understood mutual assured destruction.
Kirill knew how to manipulate. I’d seen men in my family wield their charisma before they struck their hapless enemy.
But for now I needed to buy time and get out of here.
I’d already looked over the document. I could break the intent to marry, but the second I did that, Kirill was going to expose me to Viktor’s brother.
Heels clacked on the floor as Margo rounded the desk to put the official six-page document in front of him.
“You’ve already looked this over. The flags are amendments from Miss De Lucci.”
Kirill flipped straight to the flagged content before he flicked his gaze at me.
“I already read it,” I informed him.
“I have no control over Peter’s retaliation,” Kirill said.
“Find a way,” I said. “Any harm to the troopers’ families, and they will have to face the consequences.”
“Peter will go after you, and he might even spare you so you’ll witness how he’s going to massacre your family.”
“You make it sound like my family would be at his mercy,” I derided. “Worry about what he will do when he finds out you lied to him.”
And there it was. Lighting had no bearing on how it influenced his eye color; it was something visceral inside him, his ability to regulate his emotions or lack thereof. Ugh, I shuddered if he really felt any kind of warmth at the idea of marrying me.
Not a sound could be heard in the room.
Not a word.
Not a rustle of paper.
Our eyes clashed, and mine stung from not blinking. God, if marriage to him was going to be like this, it was going to be damn exhausting.
“Okay,” Margo said. “The press is going to be here any minute. We need to table your animosity toward each other to make this work.”
“I don’t know, Margo. I’m having second thoughts about being married to this asshole.”
“That’s the second time you've called me an asshole.”
“Oh, were you counting? I assure you the number is higher if we add the unvocalized ones.”
“I believe you,” he said smoothly, picking up the pen and signing his name in bold swirls and strokes before handing it to me. “Sign it.”
I cast a glance at Margo, who had a blank mask on her face, but I could have sworn a glimmer of amusement twinkled in her eyes. She was enjoying this.
I grabbed the pen from Kirill and etched out my signature.
Kirill lifted my left hand and his thumb brushed over my ring finger. “Do you like diamonds or some other stone?”
“Whatever,” I said.
I attempted to pull my hand away, but his grip tightened, not painfully, but firmly. “It’s the first time I’m taking a wife, I want to do it properly, so ‘whatever’ is not the right answer.”
I yanked my hand away and glared at him.
“FYI, getting married to you is not a privilege. I have a feeling it’s going to be a nightmare, but it’s a risk I’m willing to take.
My family will protect me if you expose me to Peter.
They would even applaud me for defending myself.
So if you want to see me tear up that contract, bring it on. ”
“Now, now, children.” Margo snatched the signed documents. “This situation would be easier if both of you stopped antagonizing each other and stopped seeing the other as an adversary.”
My mouth thinned. It was easy for her to say, she wasn’t the one getting married to a bossy man who thought he was doing me a favor by marrying me. I paused. Actually, Kirill was doing me a favor, but he was benefitting from it too. I was sure of it, and I intended to find out what it was.
I blew out a breath. “Diamonds are fine.”
He allowed a brief nod.
Margo’s phone buzzed, but before she could say anything, a rap sounded on the door.
“Come in,” Kirill said.
Sato walked in. “The news of Davenport’s death is racing across our network. Your father is trying to reach you.” He looked at me. “I have unconfirmed reports that your uncle left Chicago a few hours ago.”
“Shit.”
“There’s a few press people outside, but I hear the majority are at Davenport’s house.”
“Is the car ready?” Kirill asked.
“We’re ready to take Miss De Lucci home.”
“Showtime,” Kirill murmured.
Before I could reply, he put his arm around me and dragged me to his side. He lowered his head to my ear, his warm breath sending prickles of awareness racing across my skin. “Should we practice?”
“Let’s not take this farce too far.”
I attempted to free myself from him, but his arm around my shoulder tightened. “We can hardly say we had a lover’s quarrel. We’re supposed to be a newly engaged couple.”
Dammit. He was right.
So I endured the march outside his study. The duffel Margo brought was sitting in the foyer. My clothes from last night were in it, and they were destined for destruction. I didn’t trust Kirill not to keep them as evidence.
What a way to start a marriage. On distrust and murder.
But my immediate concern was my uncle and brother.
Luca and Dom wouldn’t buy this whole sham.
They would know Kirill was holding something over my head.
I had to be firm that this was the right decision because I’d be damned before a war started because of me.
Everything I stood for, my aversion to mob violence, would turn into hypocrisy.
The double doors of Kirill’s house opened. I didn’t even know where we were, but beyond the circular driveway, a crowd gathered behind wrought-iron gates.
I shielded my eyes against the morning sun as Kirill casually strolled us down the marble steps to the Bentley.
“Sato will be your driver and bodyguard.”
“What?” That was news to me.
Kirill opened the door of the vehicle, and I was about to get in, when his grip on my arm stopped me. “Don’t argue.”
I should have ducked into the vehicle when I had the chance, but my internal rebellion refused to let him have the last say and threw my self-preservation out the window.
“Don’t be bossy,” I shot back.
The blue of his irises flared, and for a second, I knew I'd fucked up and Kirill was getting in the last word.
Or gesture.
He lowered his head and kissed me.