38. Konstantin
38
KONSTANTIN
I look up when the doors open, and my heart skips a beat when I catch sight of Emily. She’s still wearing her robe. And although it’s cinched tightly at her waist, I can see the ghosts of her nipples poking through the material to know that she’s naked underneath.
“I need to talk to you.” She says as her one and only greeting.
“Of course.” I nod. “Anything.”
“I have to go back to the States,” she says. “I need to be there for Nadia.”
Of all things that she can ask for, she asks for the one impossible thing.
“I can’t, Kitty Cat,” I explain. “By protocol, New York is off-limits to me, especially now. I’ve caused too much of a stir among the other bosses in New York the last time I went. And now they’re all paying attention to see if I dare show up again.”
Her face falls, but it’s more than disappointment that swims in her dazzling sapphire-blue eyes.
“But … You don’t have to go!” she protests. “I can go myself! You promised that when this is over … You’d let me go and?—”
“A pakhan cannot allow his wife to travel without him by her side,” I tell her. “You agreed to be my real wife, remember? The bratva will never permit you to go to New York alone. These are rules that even I cannot break within the bratva.”
Her face falls further, and her lip starts trembling. “So that’s it? You’re keeping me here? Forever? Because of the bratva?”
“Not forever,” I correct her. “Just … a little while longer.”
“Until when?”
“I don’t know. But soon,” I finally say. “I promise.”
“Promise …” she mutters.
A prickle of guilt makes me clench my hands. I stand up from my desk, close the distance between us and pull her close by her waist. The light scent of our lovemaking from this morning still clings to her skin, and her freckles appear more prominent in the dim light of my office.
She doesn’t press her shoulders deeper into my hands as I expect.
One of my knuckles tucks her loose hair behind her ears. She trembles as she catches her breath. My pulse quickens, and I debate kissing her. The thought of taking her right here on my desk is tempting, but I can’t just keep thinking with my dick when I’m around her.
“I have an idea for how you can make it up to her. Even if you can’t go back.”
She narrows her eyes. “How?”
I smile and plant a light kiss on her lips. “I’ll show you.”
Sunlight glitters across the smooth vines, turning them from green to gold. Clusters of grapes ranging from bruise-purple to enchanting emerald hang heavily, their weight pulling the vines to the churned earth.
Azure butterflies soar unevenly between the thick bushes. They float more than fly from the array of wildflowers sprinkling the land around the grapes.
There are more than I remember, I think, turning to catch sight of a cloud of them as they chase each other.
Emily would’ve asked for details the entire car ride along the coast, but she stays silent the entire ride this time.
No plaintive requests for info, and no attempts at pushing my buttons.
The wildness that I’ve come to expect from her seems to have been extinguished after this morning.
Something is bothering her. Something other than her guilt.
A few buildings with metal sides frame the end of the road, the main structure painted the same salt-water-scrubbed-yellow it has been for years.
“Where are we?” Emily finally asks when we come to a stop.
“It’s my family’s vineyard.”
She scrunches her nose at me. “I see.”
Frowning, I wander down the path created by heavy wagons. “Nadia will appreciate it.”
“You want to send her wine?” she asks flatly.
I pause in the middle of a thicket of vines. The leaves would brush my ankles if the vineyard weren’t tended to with precision to keep the paths clear. Nothing taller than my knee stretches for miles around, allowing a gorgeous view of the blue waters of the Adriatic Sea.
“Pick a vintage from the barrels in that building down there, any one you like, and I’ll ship it to Nadia as an apology on your behalf.”
She rubs her upper arms like she’s cold in spite of the warm sun. “I …”
Crouching, I cradle a handful of the plump grapes. “I can help you choose. I’ll narrow it down for you. You don’t have to be worried about picking a wine she won’t like.”
“I don’t want to pick a wine!”
“Are you afraid it’s too much, Kitty Cat?” Her eyes dart away at my question. “To me, this seems like exactly the sort of gift that’ll paper over your absence.”
“No it isn’t,” she says tersely.
What is the matter with her? “I thought you wanted to apologize to her.”
“I do!” She winds her arms around herself ever tighter. “But sending Nadia a barrel of wine seems … inappropriate.”
I stand quickly, my back muscles twitching from a flare of annoyance. “I don’t understand.”
“You think you can solve everything with money?” Emily lifts her hands.
Now it’s my turn to be annoyed. Her reaction baffles me. It’s like she’s insulting me on purpose. “What’s the matter with you?” I ask harshly.
It feels like I’ve swallowed a mouthful of butterflies. The fluttering sensation moves in my guts, settling in my veins until it feeds right into my heart. I touch my chest to make sure I’m not imagining how hard it’s rattling.
Her shoulders bunch upward in a shrug. “Nothing …”
The ground crunches under my shoes. I stand over her, searching her eyes for a hint of … anything. Anything other than this stoic attitude.
“Emily, talk to me.” I whisper. “What’s wrong?”
She turns away, her gaze focusing on nothing in particular. There’s nothing to see except the grapevines and clouds. There aren’t even any workers around now that evening is fast approaching. Soon, the sun will be dipping behind the horizon.
Finally, she turns around. “Am I your wife? Or am I the pakhan’s wife?”
I take her chin and tilt her gaze back to me. “Why do you ask?”
She flinches, and suspicion overtakes me.
“Forget it,” she says.
A draft from the nearby sea tugs at my shirt. It claws at her dress next, making me jealous with the way it openly caresses her chest. The current of air teases the fabric open, exposing more of her throat. The hem flutters until her right thigh is in the sun. I’ve seen her naked, yet the sight of her clothed is driving me mad. It leaves me aching for more.
“Don’t hide things from me, Kitty Cat.”
At those words, Emily flinches again, and her hand drifts to her forearm. It’s the same one that Alla grabbed after we rode to the wedding venue.
Anger and suspicion surges through me.
“Emily.”
She turns her chin upward, bringing her face an inch closer to mine at the sound of her name.
“Did my grandmother say something to you?”
She turns her face away from me again. But there’s no mistaking the tears in her eyes.
“Emily, tell me the truth.” I reach over and pull her close. She trembles in my embrace, and I feel my heart splintering. “Did she say something to you?”
Her lips part, and her eyes blink as a singular tear rolls out. Finally, she whispers quietly, almost as if she’s afraid that someone might hear. “Yes.”
My mood darkens as I tighten my embrace. That evil old hag! “What did she say?”
She shakes her head, fear and hurt mixing on her beautiful face. “Nothing she hasn’t already said.”
“That’s not true, is it?”
“Don’t make me say it, Konstantin.” She’s shivering against me now. “Please … Just stop asking.”
“The only reason I ask.” I whisper into her thick wavy hair. “Is so that I can protect you from her.”
“And the best way you can protect me from her,” she replies, her voice quivering, “is if you forget that I said anything. Please.”
There’s no mistaking the quiver in her voice. As much as I love hearing her beg, I hate it when she’s begging me like this.
Like she’s pleading for mercy.
Whatever it is that Alla said must’ve been truly awful, and I suspect that it’s not so much what she said, but what she might have done.
I intend to find out for myself.
But right now, all I care about is soothing Emily, to chase away her fears. So, I do the only thing I can do in the moment.
I kiss her.