Chapter 11
SCORPION
“You’ll never guess who I just met in the bathroom.”
The unimpressed feminine voice from behind has me whipping around to see Ekaterina watching me with pale-blue eyes that spark with disapproval.
What the fuck did I do now? Conscious of the capos circling me who have all gone quiet, I excuse myself before taking her arm in a gentle hold and leading her a few steps away.
I lift my newly freshened Macallan to her in salute. “I have the feeling you’re going to tell me.”
“A friend of yours, or so she seemed to think,” she continues sweetly. “I believe her name was Chiara.”
Fuck.
What did Chiara say to her? And what the hell is she doing at Topolina anyway? I didn’t invite her to the rehearsal dinner. I haven’t seen her in months. When it came down to it, I couldn’t bring myself to call her for a hookup.
Someone must have invited her to the rehearsal dinner. But who? Priest? I’m not sure who controlled the guest list. Could have even been Luna, not realizing the connection. I bowed out of the preparations for this whole fiasco on the grounds that I don’t want to get fucking married to begin with.
“Come with me,” I tell Ekaterina, nodding toward the back of the restaurant where I know there’s an office we can use for privacy.
She narrows her eyes at me. “Where are we going?”
“Somewhere we can talk.”
“Fine,” she relents.
We walk to the office together in silence.
On the way, I toss back the rest of my glass and pass it off to a staff member who’s collecting empties.
When we reach the open door to the office, I gesture for her to go inside first. Ekaterina sails past me, and I’m struck again by how gorgeous she looks tonight in a dress that probably makes every man under this roof—barring her blood relatives—think about tearing her out of it with their teeth. Including me.
I close the door and lock it for good measure, then turn to her. “Want to tell me what happened?”
“Nothing, unless you count the part where she told me you stop by to see her on your own whenever you need anything, and that she fully expects you to keep doing that after we’re married.”
I sigh. “I’m not planning on continuing a relationship with her, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“I wasn’t asking, and it’s your business what you do and who you do it with, but when we’re married and I’m expected to…to…sleep with you to satisfy the marriage contract, then I don’t want to have to worry about where you’re sticking your dick.”
“You could barely bring yourself to say it. Am I so bad?”
Now she sighs, giving me a look like she wants to scratch my eyes out. “You know none of this is what I want.” She gestures between us. “Especially not this. I’m not even attracted to you.”
“Whoa, cara mia.” My pride has me stalking toward her, crowding her against the desk that occupies the opposite wall. I don’t stop until I’m so close that her breasts brush against my chest with every breath she takes. “That’s a fucking lie, and we both know it.”
“No, it’s not,” she protests, flattening her palms on my pecs.
For a second, I think she’s going to shove me away.
But she doesn’t.
She just rests them there, like she can’t bring herself to do it. And fuck me if that touch, even through my suit, doesn’t make fire lick through my veins.
I lean into her, my hands on either side of the desk, letting her feel every inch of me. I’m rock hard, which is her fault for wearing that fucking dress and for smelling so good. And for looking at me like she doesn’t know if she wants to punch me or kiss me.
“Then prove it,” I dare her, drinking in the way her pupils dilate, going wide, the way her lower lip falls, how her breath hitches.
Then I dip my head and press my lips to her neck where her pulse is pounding. Cazzo, she’s so soft, her heart racing as fast as mine. The two of us could easily catch flame, there’s so much sexual tension.
I haven’t felt this way before, and it’s exhilarating and terrifying at the same time.
I want her more than I’ve ever wanted anyone, in a primal way.
I want to fuck her, fill her with my come, make her scream, and I want to put my mark on her, to imprint myself on her in a way she can never undo.
I want her on her knees for me. I want everything she’s got to give.
“I don’t… What are you doing?” she asks faintly, her nails curling into my lapels.
I feel them biting into me. What would they be like raking down my bare skin while I’m fucking her hard and deep? If the fire she walks around with daily is any indication, having her in my bed is going to be nothing short of incredible.
I suck on her skin. “What does it feel like I’m doing?” Then I sink my teeth into her like I’ve been longing to do.
Not hard enough to break skin, but enough to make her hiss just before I soothe the sting with my tongue.
She even tastes sweet, like ripe summer berries and vanilla.
Like a fucking dessert I want to eat every bite of and then lick the plate.
Only, it’s Ekaterina I want to lick, every gorgeous inch of her.
“It feels like you’re taking out your ego on me, zasranets,” she snaps, but she still doesn’t push me away.
There’s my hellcat, all razor-sharp canines and claws.
I make my way to her ear. “Go ahead. Tell me you’re going to chop off my balls next. It’ll just make my cock even harder.”
“I don’t want you fucking her when you’re with me,” she growls.
Ah, the truth. Her back is up because Chiara was trying to stake her claim.
Heat zips to my groin. Part of me likes that Ekaterina’s marking her territory.
Because I’m sure as hell going to do the same to her.
If she thinks she’s going to keep seeing that dancer friend of hers that I discovered when I did a little digging this past week, she’s going to have a very rude surprise after tomorrow.
And she’ll either respect me, or soloist Jacob Lawton is going to end up paying a visit to my cousin Angelo’s crematorium.
“I’ll consider it if you ask nicely,” I tell her, chasing the question of what kind of relationship Lawton might have with her from my mind.
“Bastard.” She tries to knee me in the groin, but I’m too fast for her, and that tight dress of hers isn’t her friend.
I just pin her even more tightly to the desk.
“Call me that again.” I lift my head and stare down at her, our lips almost touching but not quite. “I think I like it.”
She rages against me in Russian and I have no idea what she’s saying, but I have a feeling she’s detailing her plan to disembowel me and throw the pieces of my body into the river. It’s hot as fuck.
“Bastard,” she repeats, but there’s not as much rage behind it this time.
Instead, her voice has softened, going husky. A spark of something dangerous zings up my spine, and my dick is harder than it’s ever been. I roll my hips, letting her feel me, and watch as her lips part.
“Again,” I order her.
Her eyes drop. “Bastard.”
There’s no venom this time. Our mouths are almost touching, her breathy pants ghosting a hot caress over my lips. I take her chin in a gentle hold and force her eyes to mine.
“Kiss me, cara mia. Show me how unattracted to me you are.”
She hesitates, and it’s the longest wait of my fucking life. And then, suddenly, her lips are on mine. Soft and warm like the rest of her. I’m an inferno from just one touch. I release her chin and grip the back of her neck, holding her to me, taking command.
Then I deepen the kiss, groaning when I give her my tongue and she sucks on it.
She even tastes like ripe strawberries, and it makes me wonder if her pussy is just as sweet.
I hold her there, ravishing her mouth with slow, consuming kisses, one hand on her hip and the other on her neck.
My hands have a will of their own, and all they crave is her skin, her curves.
I’d let her go if she tried to escape, but she’s not attempting any moves.
She’s making sounds in her throat, breathy little moans like she can’t help herself, her arms twined around me as she crushes her tits into my chest. I wish her neckline weren’t so demure, because every molecule of me wants to suck on her nipples and see if they’re as responsive as I think they are.
Exactly like I thought, she’s not immune to me. She’s anything but. Ekaterina grasps my suit like she wants to rip it off me, her tongue playing with mine.
I tear my mouth from hers reluctantly, remembering I can’t get lost in this. We have a banquet hall filled with people not far, and they’ll soon be wondering where we disappeared to. Besides, the whole point of this was to prove her wrong, not to lose control and get lost in her.
It’s the Macallan and that dress and those nipples of hers, hard and pointed, tenting the bright silk of her dress.
Her lips are natural with a hint of gloss.
Chiara loves dark-red lipstick, and it’s a turnoff, so we’ve rarely kissed.
She was always far more interested in getting down to business, so it never mattered.
I could kiss Ekaterina for days and never get tired of it.
She tastes like summer, like golden sunshine and juicy fruit and everything I can’t get enough of.
“Tell me again,” I say roughly.
She blinks, lost in her thoughts, looking dazed, hanging on to me like we’re about to jump out of a plane and go skydiving and she’s terrified of making the leap.
“Tell you what?”
I lean into her, my hold on her tightening incrementally as I lower my head so my lips are almost grazing her ear when I speak. “Tell me that you’re not attracted to me. That your nipples aren’t hard right now and begging to be sucked. That your pussy isn’t soaked for me. Go ahead. I’m waiting.”
She’s quiet for a few heartbeats, and I’m convinced she’s about to concede defeat.
I inhale her perfume, my cock still harder than granite against her belly.
This woman is going to be my wife, and as much as I don’t want to marry anyone, let alone her, I can’t deny that I want her in my bed.
She’s like a drug. One hit of her isn’t enough.
Somehow, I have a feeling I’ll be chasing the dragon long after we’ve gone our separate ways.
But then she flattens her palms on my chest and pushes me away. “It’s bad luck to lie to the groom the day before the wedding, so you’re out of luck.”
My dick is aching to be inside her. It has been ever since I first took her to the cabin, and since then, this raging, furious need for Ekaterina has only gotten worse.
She is lying. We both know that. But I’m impressed by the stone-cold way she holds her head high and looks me in the eye when she denies the truth.
Tomorrow is another day, and one in which she’ll be my wife.
I stuff my hands in the pockets of my suit jacket to keep from touching her, wishing I had a cigarette. “The only lie you’re telling right now is the one you’re telling yourself.”
Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes glassy. “I meant what I said. I don’t want to have to worry about you sticking your dick in every woman in the city.”
Her opinion of me is low.
But then, I did kidnap her and chain her to a bed not all that long ago.
“Same goes for you,” I tell her sharply, not liking the spark of jealousy that ignites inside me when I think about Lawton again.
She raises a brow, her icy ballerina composure returning. “I don’t have a dick.”
I run a hand across my jaw. “Yeah, but you know who does? Jacob Lawton. I’d hate to have to cut it off and stuff it down his fucking throat until he chokes.”
She goes pale, her shoulders stiffening. “Jacob has nothing to do with this.”
“He’s been to your apartment.”
An incredulous laugh escapes her. “What, are you having me investigated now?”
I shrug. “I need to know what I’m getting in this deal.”
Her nostrils flare, her hands balling into fists at her sides. “Jacob is my friend.”
“With benefits?”
Just the fucking thought of anyone else touching her, kissing her, is enough to make the fury inside me take over. She’s mine. I may not have wanted this marriage, but after tomorrow, she’s going to be my wife. I don’t fucking share.
“You mean like Chiara?” She shakes her head. “Or is she your girlfriend? Whatever she is to you, it’s enough that she went out of her way to point out how close the two of you are.”
Irritation surges. “I’m sorry that happened. It shouldn’t have.”
I’ll be talking with Chiara after this. She needs to know her place.
Something shifts in Ekaterina’s expression, softening. I get the impression she didn’t expect an apology from me.
“Thank you,” she says.
“I’m a reasonable man,” I tell her. “Just don’t get on my bad side.”
“Reasonable men don’t kidnap women they don’t know and hold them against their will in a run-down cabin for two days.”
Fair enough. It’ll take some time for her to trust me. Not the best way to start off our marriage, and had I known what was ahead, I’d have left her on the street that day. But I didn’t, and here we are.
I smirk. “Like I said, I’m reasonable. Unless you get on my bad side.”
Before she can answer, the insistent knock of someone at the door interrupts us. I can’t imagine any of our crew would be stupid enough to intrude like this, so I’m reasonably sure I already know who it is.
“Occupied,” I call out anyway, just to goad the stronzo.
“Where is Katya?” asks an accented voice on the other side.
Sidorov, just like I thought.
“Katya, hmm?” I drawl, holding her gaze as I try out the new name. “Doesn’t have the same ring as hellcat, but I guess it’ll have to do.”
“My friends and family call me that,” she says coolly.
I smirk harder. “Excellent news, because as of tomorrow, I’ll be both to you.”
The doorknob jiggles violently.
I sigh and stalk across the small office, flick the lock, and open the door. “Patience, Sidorov. Don’t you Russians know the phrase good things come to those who wait?”
Sidorov flicks a glance over my shoulder to where his sister stands, like he’s checking her for injuries, before he returns his glare to me. “Paws off, Andriani. I’m not going to allow you to disrespect my sister the day before the wedding.”
Who the fuck does he think he is, talking to me like that?
“Let’s get something straight between us, Sidorov. You don’t allow me to do anything. Especially not in my territory, in my restaurant, with my fucking wife.”
His lip curls. “She’s not your wife yet.”
“But she will be, thanks to you,” I remind him. “Tomorrow.”
Then I push past the bastard and walk back into the banquet hall like my world isn’t about to spectacularly implode in less than twenty-four hours.