Chapter 21 - Ivan
I’ve been in plenty of situations that have made me furious, but nothing has ever made me see red quite this fast.
It’s not the kind of anger that makes you sloppy or unpredictable, but it’s cold and measured. Beyond that, it stirs up the urge to claim what’s mine in any way that I can, and it settles in unlike anything else.
Mila’s dancing with my brother, completely unprompted.
Maybe that shouldn’t anger me as much as the idea of a random man she doesn’t know doing the same, but the thought still needles at me anyway. It’s one of my siblings of all people, for Christ's sake.
Any other day, and she’d hardly glance in his direction. Now, she has one hand on his shoulder and the other in his hand while they move like they’ve done this before. I obviously know that’s not the case, but it pisses me off anyway.
And I know exactly why she did it.
Naomi cornered me, catching me in a conversation I haven’t had a reason to leave yet, without being obvious or outright rude.
It doesn’t help that Roman’s here too, and if I make the wrong move, he’ll know.
And God, the last thing I want is for my siblings to have the opportunity to mingle with my past exploits when I’m trying to keep them behind me.
Hell, he probably already has an idea, given how she lingers, smiling up at me while she finds every excuse to touch me despite how I keep trying to subtly shake her off. The mere notion of her being this close has me on edge anyway, and if I had my way, she wouldn’t be anywhere near the building.
But as socialites do best, they find a way into every event, no matter what it takes.
Her perfume is sharper than usual, and the familiarity in it irritates me even more. I’m not hearing a word coming out of her mouth, yet she won’t take the hint. She used to be so perceptive before, but now, I don’t think she’d give up unless I screamed it at her.
All I see is Mila’s hand on Nikolai’s shoulder while she talks to him lightly, smiling more than I care to see.
When she looks my way, lips pulling a bit more, I know exactly what this is.
She can play innocent all she wants, but it’s deliberate, and she’s trying to get under my skin on purpose. Unfortunately for me, it’s working, and I don’t know how much more of this I can take.
Finally, as the music changes around us, I excuse myself, and without waiting for Naomi’s response, I push through the crowd with unbridled purpose. To hell with trying to be polite.
Nikolai notices me first, and he tenses, taking another step back from her. That sheepish expression tells me everything I need to know.
I don’t say a word at first, and I don’t need to. Instead, I look at him, watching as he puts his hands up in a placating gesture.
“I didn’t start this,” he says without hesitation.
When I glance at Mila, she’s already looking at me, seeming too satisfied for her own good. She’s absolutely unapologetic about this, and that quiet spark of defiance in her nearly pushes me over the edge.
I hate how easily the thought of anyone touching her makes me want to lose my mind, even when that person is my brother, and one who hasn’t shown any sign of interest in her.
And God, I hate how gorgeous she looks right now, knowing exactly what she has done.
After a brief and awkward pause, Nikolai clears his throat, already moving. “I’m going to get a drink…or leave.”
Without another word, he disappears, but all I see now is her. Mustering as much poise and calm as I can, I take his place without asking, hand settling on her waist while the other claims her free one.
I watch her for a long moment, then I murmur, “Enjoy yourself?”
“Very much so,” she says, so goddamn smug while she moves with me, slowly and almost sensually.
“That was clever.”
“Dancing?” She asks, lifting an innocent brow at me.
“With my brother,” I add, jaw tense while her skin feels so impossibly warm under my palm. “To provoke me.”
Her lips pull just enough to let me know I hit the mark, then she hums, and her hand on my shoulder just barely grazes my neck with her fingers. “Did it work?”
Ignoring her question, I pull in a calming breath, eyes still hard. “You could’ve asked me to.”
She shrugs. “I didn’t think you’d say yes. You seemed…preoccupied.”
The words are subtle, yet loaded. She means Naomi, and that makes my chest tighten.
“You didn’t like what you saw,” I murmur, watching her expression closely.
“I wasn’t going to stand there and feel small while another woman touched you,” she replies, calm and cool.
“You didn’t have to play games. I wanted out of that conversation anyway. You should’ve come over.”
At that, she looks me over for any lies, but seems satisfied by the response, even if she won’t admit it. “I didn’t make a scene, and I didn’t sulk. I danced instead.”
“With my brother.”
“He was the closest available option,” Mila says simply.
I narrow my eyes at her slightly, but I can’t deny that she handled it with far more class than most would’ve. “You liked it.”
“Dancing with Nikolai? Yeah, I did. He’s surprisingly good at it.”
“Careful,” I mutter, pulling her a touch closer until our bodies brush each time we shift in place. I lean in, speaking closer to her ear now. “You’re treading through dangerous territory.”
Regardless of my hold on her or the warning in my words, Mila doesn’t pull away. Instead, I catch the amusement in her voice, soft and knowing. “Maybe I’m right where I want to be.”
The words send a jolt of need right through me, and I tighten my grip on her fractionally as we dance idly, more focused on our back and forth than our movements. I can feel her through the dress, and I’m more than aware of every point of contact we make.
I don’t give a damn about the event unfolding around us. Instead, my entire focus narrows to her and the way she makes my blood burn. I’m trying to get a grip, but my control is fraying at the edges.
Then, when her eyes slide down to my lips, I can’t take any more.
“Come on,” I murmur, reaching for her hand as I guide her away without waiting for her response.
With decisive ease, I steer us through the crowd and down a side corridor leading to an empty, quiet portion of the building. The noise of the event dulls behind us, instead overshadowed by the sound of our footsteps.
“Where are we going?” She asks, not sounding overly resistant.
“Somewhere quieter.”
Her silence doesn’t tell me much, but she follows anyway, and that feels like surrender in itself.
Finally, when I decide we’ve gone far enough from the main crowd, I push a door open to a room full of stacked chairs and other spare furniture and guide her inside before closing us in.
By the time I carefully push her back, hand bracing the back of her head, I’m in her space enough to make my intentions abundantly clear.
Mila’s breath hitches, but she doesn’t shy away from my gaze. Instead, she holds it like this, really is the place she wants to be.
“You knew what you were doing,” I say, still struggling with the thought of her toying with me when she’s the one I’ve been wanting all along.
“Yes.”
I pull in a fractured breath. “And you wanted me to see.”
She nods.
“And now that I’m pissed, what do you want, Mila?”
Unwavering with a charged expression, she responds, “I want you to stop pretending you don’t care.”
“I care a hell of a lot more than I should,” I mumble, cutting even more of the small space left between us, hand coming up to cup her cheek.
It feels like battling myself, caught between wanting to hold out as a form of punishment and needing her so badly it hurts.
“Or maybe it’s the right amount. Either way, nobody else matters.
Definitely not a woman who could never compare to you. ”
At that, I catch the slight falter in her lashes as she softens. “You mean that?”
“I do, and I don’t want you questioning that,” I tell her, thumb lightly brushing against her cheekbone as my nose almost brushes against hers. “And don’t use my family against me…not when I don’t need convincing.”
“Noted,” she murmurs, just loud enough for me to catch.
Taking her in, I feel the restraint leave me little by little, and before I can help it, I lean in and capture her lips with mine.
Mila freezes at first from the suddenness of it, then she melts, responding to me so perfectly that I let everything else go. She reaches up, gently wrapping her fingers around my wrists to keep me there while she presses into the kiss.
My anger, jealousy, and everything else mean nothing now that I have her under me, warm and just as wanting as I am. From this close, I can feel her heart thrumming against me, letting me know just how much this affects her, too.
I try to keep it controlled and deliberate, but the longer I feel her mouth on mine, the more I start to slip. With both hands cupping her cheeks, I deepen it, groaning against her lips.
She’s too addicting for her own good…and for mine, too.
As she grips my clothes, chasing my lips with hers, I know she needs this just as badly as I do, and I’m not about to deny her.
Whether this was her end goal or not, it doesn’t matter. Neither of us can act like this wasn’t inevitable.
And now that I have her here, making those little sounds like she can’t get enough of me, I’m not letting her go until she knows exactly what she does to me.