Chapter 9 #2
“I’ve never been good at sleeping anyway. I was thinking more—”
“Intercourse.”
I stifle a laugh at her phrasing. Like it’s something she’s only read about in a biology textbook. “Yes.”
I wait for her to react, to be outraged, something, but Natalia’s face has gone blank, as though intercourse with me simply hadn’t crossed her mind before. It might be wishful thinking, but I don’t see the fear in her eyes that was there on our wedding night.
I lean forward in my seat.
“It was my understanding that intercourse would not be happening in our marriage? Based on the absolute fucking tantrum your family threw on our wedding night.”
A delicious flush spreads up her neck. Rose and cream. I fight the urge to press my lips to the places where that blood stains her creamy skin.
“My family told me not to.” She chews her lip.
“And what business is it of theirs, if I want my wife?”
She doesn’t answer that.
Of course, I know exactly why it is. It’s because they’re trying to keep their options open for remarriage. If they can say that our marriage was only on paper, never in bed, then it won’t be as difficult to marry off Natalia to the next asshole with the right surname.
We’ve detected five attempts on my life this week. The hitmen are still being interrogated, but I think we’re going to find that each and every one of them was acting on Maksim Bryusov’s orders.
I weigh it up in my head. Maybe I should have taken Maksim’s money, instead of his daughter. But this arrangement has already opened doorways that would otherwise be closed to me — I might not have the Bryusov name, but I’m the heir apparent.
Natalia is still mulling over my question. Very seriously. I almost want to tell her to forget it, but I like watching her when she’s deep in thought. She’s biting her lip — chewing on it really — her green eyes flashing at me as she thinks.
“You don’t love me.” She speaks slowly. “It’s supposed to be about love.”
That’s cute.
“Never has been, in my experience.”
Her eyes flicker at that, her reply quick and instinctual. “How many?”
Natalia never speaks on impulse, and she seems almost surprised by the way her words have slipped out.
“Women?”
She nods.
I shrug. No one’s kept count, least of all me. “Lots.”
“And are you… Are you still?”
I shake my head.
“I will, though. It’s not fair to you. Not if you want love, princess.”
“You make that sound like it’s such an unreasonable demand.”
It is, I want to tell her. It is, for me.
I don’t think I’m capable. And if I do have love to give, it’s not going to be the roses and chocolates kind of love that Natalia is looking for.
If it exists, my love will be like the rest of me.
Rough. Hard to take. Intense.
“If it hasn’t happened to me in thirty-one years, I don’t think it’s going to happen to me.”
“What about me?”
I don’t follow what she means.
“What about you?”
“What if I fell in love? I do want to fall in love, you know. At least once in my life. I’ve read about it in books.”
I let out a snort.
Of course she’s read about it in books. I wonder if she’s read about sex in books, too.
Because while this princess seems far too high maintenance, I’m warming up to the fact that this situation could be taken advantage of.
As Yuri says, it would be a shame to be sharing a space with a girl who is making my dick hard whenever we’re in an argument and not try the merchandise, at least once.
It’s not immoral, to want my wife. I don’t think Natalia likes me in any sense, but I’m adjusting to the idea that she might want me.
There’s only one answer to her question, and I think Natalia knows it.
“If you fell in love, princess, that would be too bad. Because I can’t let anyone else touch what’s mine. I might not love you, but I’ll be damned if anyone else does.”
“Oh.” Her eyes well with tears. “So I will be alone, for the rest of my life? With no love, from anyone other than Dasha?”
Fuck.
It does sound bad, when she puts it like that. As though I’m being unfair. God, I am a heartless bastard. Trying to strip away her entire life so all she has is this meaningless marriage with me.
I just know that I wouldn’t be able to control myself, if she did fall in love with someone else. I’m pummeling Yuri every week just out of the strain of having to live with her without touching her. If someone else could…hell, I’d be murderous.
The sight of her green eyes filling with tears makes me feel a pang of something. Regret mixed with arousal. An irresistible urge to be closer to her, to comfort her, even though I’m the source of her pain.
Now that’s fucked up.
The Ivanov Center would have a field day with the mess that’s going on in my head right now.
I place a hand on Natalia’s shoulder and to my surprise, she doesn’t flinch away. She leans into the touch. I find myself wrapping her in my arms. She’s so… delicate. Warm and slight and soft in my arms. I’m scared to hug her too tightly in case I break her.
“Here’s a trade, princess. Stop it with this talk of love and I’ll let you see your family, once a week? How’s that?”
“Really?” Her voice is muffled against my shoulder, but she doesn’t let me go.
I know she’ll never love or trust me like that. She’ll never crave me in a time of need the way she needs the comfort of her real family. No one’s ever trusted me like that, and I’ve given them no reason to.
I brush a curl away from her forehead where it’s escaped her ponytail.
“Of course, zolotse.”
The pet name slips out on instinct.
My treasure. My golden one. My princess.
I don’t know where the fuck that came from, but it fits Natalia.
Natalia looks at me in confusion, before her face shutters. She does like to hide behind walls, this one.
“You don’t have to…” she whispers.
Now I’m confused.
“What don’t I have to do?”
I reach for her, but she pulls away.
“Pretend that you care about me.”