11. Damian
DAMIAN
I swear I can smell the scent of Sienna’s shampoo and skin before I even see her, as soon as I walk into the house. It’s insane, but it’s like she’s permeated every aspect of my life within days. I can’t escape her, no matter what I do.
I breathe in, smelling vanilla and honey and sandalwood, and something richer, something expensive that makes me think of her stretched out on a massage table, hands kneading into her skin as she lets out soft groans of pleasure.
My cock swells as jealousy floods through me at the thought of someone else touching her.
Maybe I shouldn’t have suggested the spa , I think, and just as quickly realize how ridiculous I’m being.
She’s not mine, not in the way I keep imagining.
She’s a temporary responsibility. The way I’m reacting to her is, frankly, concerning.
And wrong. Wanting her is wrong in so many different ways.
“Welcome home, Damian.” I hear Mrs. Horvat’s voice and see her walking past the staircase, a pleasant expression on her face. “Your wife is in the informal living room with her son, if you want to see her. I think she and Valentina had quite the day.”
My wife . The simple way she says it hits me, as if there’s nothing strange or unusual about it at all.
Meanwhile, I still can’t quite believe that I did something so impetuous.
That I married this woman. I remember Konstantin’s astonished voice when I told him what had happened.
You thought the best solution was matrimony?
It’s temporary. Temporary. Remember that.
I don’t know why it’s so hard to remember. Why my body and mind keep reacting as if I’ve sworn ‘til death do us part to this woman with any real intention of keeping that vow.
“Their day went well?” I ask, and Mrs. Horvat shrugs.
“I can’t say for sure, of course, but I think Valentina took excellent care of them, and made sure Sienna got the most out of the day. Adam was well taken care of while she was gone. And, if I may say so—” A sly smile curves one corner of Mrs. Horvat’s mouth. “Your wife looks very lovely.”
There's something in her tone that makes me look at her more sharply, but her expression is carefully neutral. Mrs. Horvat has worked for the Abramov family since I was a child—she knows how to keep secrets and when to mind her own business.
I can hear voices when I get closer to the living room, Sienna reading what sounds like a children's book, her voice animated and playful.
The sound does something strange to my chest, makes me think of things I have no business thinking about.
It sounds intimate and domestic, something I never imagined having anything to do with me.
It still doesn’t, I remind myself, but when I reach the doorway, I stop in my tracks at the vision in front of me.
Sienna is curled up on the couch with her son, a picture book spread across their laps.
She's wearing a long floral dress with thin straps that split at the leg, showing the length of it up to mid-thigh, the tanned skin on display making my mouth go dry. The neckline dips just into her delicate cleavage, and she looks relaxed and beautiful, lounging as if she doesn’t have a care in the world.
Her hair is different—shorter, brushing just above her collarbone, styled in loose waves that frame her face and make her green eyes look enormous. Her skin glows, tanned and polished.
She looks… fuck , she looks incredible. Like she belongs in this house, in this life.
Like she was born to wear expensive clothes and be pampered and protected.
Something tightens in my chest, and I almost turn and walk away, ready to put distance between myself and whatever this is that she makes me feel, but she looks up before I can.
Adam looks up at the same moment. “Mama, your friend is here,” he says, in that guileless way that goes along with his age, and I see a flicker of nervousness cross Sienna’s face.
“You sit here and look at the pictures,” she says softly, sitting up. “I’ll be back in a minute. Tell me your favorite when I come back.”
I pause, remembering the paper bag in my hand. I see Sienna’s gaze flick to it curiously, and I clear my throat, feeling suddenly awkward.
How did I think this was a good idea? I avoid kids.
I’m not the kind of man they should be around, and I don’t know what to do with them.
I’ve been half-dreading the arrival of Valentina and Konstantin’s child, though I’m happy for them.
But I’m standing here, and walking back out without giving Adam what I brought for him feels even more ridiculous.
Clearing my throat again, I hold out the bag. “I picked this up for Adam,” I say slowly, every word making me feel more unsure. “I don’t really know what someone his age would like, but?—”
“For me?” Adam is on his feet, excitement on his face as he abandons his book, his mother right behind him.
“Damian, you didn’t have to—” Sienna starts to say, but Adam is already excitedly taking the bag out of my hands, pulling out the large, stuffed shark that I purchased at a toy shop that I passed this afternoon leaving a meeting downtown.
“Shark!” he exclaims excitedly, squeezing it in both hands as he turns back to Sienna. “Mama, shark!”
“It is a shark,” Sienna confirms, a small smile at the corners of her mouth. When she looks at me, there’s a softness in her eyes that makes my heart suddenly pound with something that feels very much like fear.
“Tell Damian thank you,” Sienna instructs, and Adam looks up at me, a bright smile on his face .
“T’ank you, Damian!” he squeals, and then scurries back to the couch, picking up his book again with the shark now on his lap. Sienna looks at it, that smile still on her lips, and then she looks at me again.
I swallow hard. What was I thinking? Getting attached to this woman and her child, spoiling her and bringing him gifts, that’s not part of the arrangement. But I couldn’t help myself.
I need to put the brakes on, especially when it comes to her. This will end, and there’s no point in pretending otherwise, especially not when it could hurt them both.
“Sit here and read for a minute while I talk to Damian,” Sienna instructs, and Adam nods, fixated on both his shark and his book.
He’s a good kid. I don’t know anything about children, but Adam seems very well-behaved, sitting on the couch as Sienna asked with the picture book in his lap, as Sienna gets up and walks toward me.
Her cheeks have flushed a bit pink, highlighting her freckles, and as her hands smooth down the skirt that flows around her legs, I can’t keep myself from looking at the curve of her hips against the silk.
She looks stunning, and I feel my fingers dig into my palms in an effort not to touch her as she stops a few inches away.
“How was your day?” she asks softly, and I have to fight the sensation of how strange it is to have someone ask me that. It’s entirely foreign to me. No one has ever asked me how my day was when I came home before.
“Fine,” I answer, my voice more curt than I mean for it to be.
“Productive,” I add. I see her expression flicker a little at my tone, and I’m aware all over again that this is why I don’t have relationships, why I would ordinarily never try to bring a woman like this into my life.
I’m not built for this. Domesticity has never been a part of my life, and I’ve cut out the parts of myself that would want it.
I don’t know how to be a husband to a woman like this.
“Good.” She bites her lip, shifting awkwardly in place. “That was very sweet of you—the present for Adam. He’s actually obsessed with sea animals.”
I manage a smile, that awkward feeling still tight in my chest. “It was nothing. Just something I saw on my way home. I see Valentina took good care of you. She insisted on going along, Konstantin said.”
Sienna nods nervously. “It was very nice of her. I told her she didn’t have to, but she said she was tired of being cooped up.”
I chuckle at that, and I see Sienna startle at the sound. That strikes me as odd. Is she that afraid of me? Is a laugh that unexpected? “That makes sense. She gets a bit stir-crazy from time to time.”
“Thank you for all of it.” Sienna’s teeth worry at her lower lip. “The spa, the hair, the shopping… it was all very expensive. I?—”
“I told you that money isn’t an issue.” I cut her off, and I see her eyelids lower, her tongue sweeping over the curve of her lower lip. My cock thickens instantly. Her mouth looks full and soft, and I want to take her chin in my hand, draw her mouth to mine, and devour it.
“Still,” she whispers, looking up at me through her lashes. “I want to thank you properly.”
There's something in her tone that makes me look at her again, and what I see in her eyes makes my blood heat and my jaw clench. She doesn’t look terrified, the way she did the night I brought her home or the morning that I walked in on her changing.
There’s a determination that wasn't there before.
There’s something else in her eyes, too.
Something that looks like curiosity, maybe?
Every traitorous part of me that refuses to accept how wrong I know this is wants to believe that I see desire there, but if it is, then it’s manufactured desire.
There’s no possibility that this woman wants me for any reason other than that she believes she has to, in order to stay safe.
“Sienna—” I start to warn her off, but she takes a step closer, and I catch a whiff of expensive perfume, something that smells like vanilla and flowers, mingling with the scent of her shampoo and skin.
She must have bought it today. God , I can imagine breathing it in as I run my mouth down her body…