by Kresley Cole
“Victoria?” Dmitri yelled from the bedroom landing. He must’ve just awakened to find my side of the bed empty.
I quickly called, “Right in the kitchen!” I’d watched him sleep for hours before hunger had driven me downstairs.
Though I was a notoriously bad cook, I decided to make him breakfast in bed. Luckily, each dish in the refrigerators had been labeled with heating instructions and accompaniment suggestions.
As I warmed food, I’d texted Karin an update. Vice: Sister vault. I did a bad bad thing.
She would know what I meant, that I’d gotten too close to my mark, letting down my guard.
KV: How deep?
Vice: I’m attempting to make him breakfast in bed.
KV: WHO ARE YOU???
Vice: Like a sap, I watched him sleeping.
Figuring he needed the rest, I’d let him slumber on. His sigh-worthy face had been relaxed, a world away from the pain he’d shown when he’d balked at sex—or his euphoric expression on the cliff.
KV: I take it “consummation” went well. What’s your move now?
Once I’d replayed the events of the night and wrestled with my feelings, I’d made a decision: I still wouldn’t reach for the stars.
But maybe I could case their joint and look for an in.
Vice: I want to see where this leads.
KV: Which leaves the ring as your only option. I’ll come pick it up, no more than 9 days from now.
Because Al would need time to convert it to cash.
Dmitri hastened into the kitchen wearing gray boxer briefs and nothing else. His eyes were a little wild, and he was out of breath. “Vika?”
“I waited beside you as long as I could, but then I decided to wake you up with food. Look”—I waved at the tray I’d put together—“I even put a flower in a vase, though that orchid I clipped probably cost a bazillion dollars.”
“You’re . . . topless.” He swallowed.
I only wore a lacy black thong. “Why, I am!” I shook my shoulders to give him a jiggle, loving his brows-drawn look.
“Mercy,” he said. “Now I know I’m still dreaming.” Had he awakened only to believe everything had been a dream?
I had.
He stalked closer, all tousled black hair and hooded eyes. “Do you always eat topless?”
“Ah, see, my husband ordered me not to cover these.”
He smiled. Fully! “Your husband sounds like a brilliant man.”
My breath hitched. “He is. He’s a tech genius.” I craned my head up. “I wanted to be there when you woke. I debated an alarm-clock BJ, breakfast, or tickling.”
“In the future, I’d prefer two out of those three. And one in particular.”
I pouted. “I picked the exact wrong one, didn’t I?”
“Depends on what I’m served for breakfast.” He swooped me into his arms, and carried me to the kitchen table. “I’m going to eat you up. . . .”
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Breakfast, take two.
Everything I’d heated would be cold by now. Good thing there was plenty more. “I’m starving,” I told him as we began foraging.
“I know, I’ve never been so hungry.” Dmitri rubbed his belly, drawing my attention to his chiseled abs and that black trail of hair leading down. . . .
I dragged my gaze away, needing to concentrate on food. Weren’t there some croissants around here? I started the oven again.
“Do you like to cook?” he asked.
“I’m more of a dish-doer.” I went to fetch butter and jam. “But I am an ace at heating and eating.”
“What do you usually like to . . . ?” His voice faded to nothing.
I’d bent over at the fridge for another stick of butter, hadn’t even meant to tempt him. I straightened and whirled around.
“Vika!” He crossed the distance in one long stride and grabbed my waist.
“Just a minute, big guy! You gotta feed me—”
His mouth descended over mine.
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Breakfast, take three.
“This time I have to eat,” I said between kisses. He had me pressed up against the counter, trapping me with his body.
“Then why do you keep seducing me?” He continued taking my mouth, so I forced myself to draw back and face him.
“You have two choices, Dmitri. You can control yourself, even when my tits move”—in the throes, he’d told me how wild that sight made him—“or you can go grab me one of your T-shirts.”
“And that is the conundrum of my day? I like this life with you.”
I grinned. I was liking it too. “I’ll strip as soon as we’re through.”
“Not soon enough.” He grumbled in Russian as he strode off. I leaned to keep him in sight. His ass was unreal. I’d left scratches on it over the night.
Inhaling for control, I poured coffee. How would he take his?
When he returned, I traded him a cup for a T-shirt. Had he found the thinnest one he owned? My nipples were visible. Sneaky Russian. “I don’t know how you like your coffee—and how weird is that?—so I made it like mine.”
He took a sip. “Good. Thank you.”
“But it’s not how you prefer.” I narrowed my eyes. “Do you even drink coffee?”
He shrugged. “Not in a year.” He’d had a seriously life-changing year.
“But you accepted the cup anyway?”
Nod.
Awww. “Could you be any sweeter?”
“I am very sweet on you.” He set the coffee aside, getting that look in his eyes—half thrall, half dark lust.
I responded like a lit wick. I did a bad bad thing. Inner shake. “Whoa, Dmitri. Food.”
He sighed. “Very well.”
We rummaged, selecting sliced fruit and breakfast ham.
Once I’d satisfied the worst of my hunger, I asked him, “Do you always sleep so long?”
“Never. And never so soundly.” He seemed a different man. He’d smiled several times—as if his smile had only been awaiting parole. “Maybe it’s all part of the process.”
I was dying to know more, but I could be patient. So I kept it light. “Did we do good last night?”
He lifted me up on the counter and stood between my thighs. “We did amazing, zhena.”
Now that the touch-and-go sexual situation had resolved itself, my usual worry took center stage. My family. I glanced at my ring.
“Something on your mind?”
I gave him my practiced smile. “I thought you couldn’t read people.”
“I can’t,” he said, his eyes lively. “But you stopped eating at last, so I figured something else was occupying you.”
I play-punched his shoulder. “I’ve got a comedian on my hands? You should’ve put a weight clause in your postnup.” I slapped my forehead. “Oh, too late . . .”
He almost chuckled. I was beginning to think of his laughter as a muscle that hadn’t been worked out. We would ease it into use.
His expression turned serious. “I will always desire you no matter how you look.”
I leaned in and nipped his bottom lip. “Lose your rock-hard abs, and I’m outta here.” Excellent, Vice, making jokes about leaving him? Quick change of topic . . . “How do you foresee our days?”
“I want to take you all over the world. Or as far as we can get between your family’s Sunday dinners.”
Dinners Dmitri wouldn’t be going to. “Don’t you have a home in Russia you need to get back to?”
“No. After selling my company, I moved from one property to another.” He added to himself, “Fleeing ghosts.” Before I could ask about that, he said, “We have several properties I think you will enjoy.”
“But you’ll want to live in Russia eventually.” Say yes. Give me one major stumbling block.
“No. I like California. I believe my bride do
es too.”
Did I ever. “What would our regular day-to-day be like here?”
“Other than the hour I need to conduct business, I’m at your service. Once we’ve traveled and enjoyed ourselves, perhaps you’d like to pursue your dream of designing clothes. We should visit Paris and Milan and investigate where your interests lie.”
Well, then. “Just hit up the fashion capitals of the world?”
“Why not? Money affords us an enviable entrée. We could attend shows and expos and tour the most famous houses. We could invite your friends or family. Or mine. Or both.”
How would my crew get along with the Sevastyans? Didn’t matter. I could never risk one of them slipping up and exposing us. I pictured what would happen if Dmitri found out he’d been maneuvered and used. Would he believe anything between us had been real? That I truly cared for him and wanted him to be happy?
“And, of course”—he reached for a breast—“you and I will provide each other vast amounts of sex.”
But I leaned back. “Hold up, big guy. We’re going to have to ice my pussy if you don’t give it a little rest. It’s gone from off limits to all access, zero to sixty.”
He dropped his hand, squeezing it into a fist. “We’re late for an appointment anyway.”
“Appointment?”
“Yes, out on the water. So I’ll give you a reprieve till tonight. But then I’m going to show you something I think you’ll like. . . .”
CHAPTER 27
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I sputtered when windblown spray from a whale’s blowhole dotted my face.
They were swimming all around our kayak—that close! I cast a shocked look back at Dmitri. “Did that just happen?” I vibrated with so much excitement, I probably rocked the boat.
He flashed me a grin, looking like a god in the afternoon sunlight as he paddled us around. He wore a pair of board shorts. No shirt. The misted skin of his broad chest shimmered. “I’m a witness.”
Earlier, he’d told me to hurry into a swimsuit or we’d be late, then rushed me down to the cove to hop in a kayak. When I’d hesitated, admitting I didn’t know how, he’d pinched my chin and told me, “I’ve got you. Just relax, and let me do the work.”
Now I breathlessly asked him, “How could you have an appointment for whales? How’d you know when they would show?” Benji would have given anything to be able to take pictures.
“There’s an app for that. My phone sounded an alert when this pod started moving down the coast.”
“Amazing. You keep boggling my mind. And all I’ve done today is shake my tits a little.”
His grin widened. “I made the better bargain. Tell me, do you like our home?”
“Eh, s’okay, I guess.” I shrugged. “Of course I freaking do! There are whales in the backyard!”
Another one surfaced even closer, and it had a baby! I gazed back at Dmitri, wanting him to see how thrilled I was.
“You know, they mate for life,” he said, his expression telling me, As have I.
Whoa.
Once the pod moved on, Dmitri smoothly steered us farther along the coast. We rounded a headland into the next cove, and I caught sight of several bungalows dotting the hills. Their modern design and expanses of glass called to mind the main house. “What are those?”
“Guest residences.” Each one would have a picture-postcard view of the ocean. “For family to visit.”
My family consisted of approximately thirty Valentines and company. Hey, maybe we could hide from the cartel here.
Except then Dmitri would definitely figure out what we were. What I am.
Worry tempered my happiness. I gazed down at my ring wistfully. How would I smuggle it to Karin? I didn’t want anyone to make an official visit, and the security cameras would prevent a drive-by on the sly. Maybe I could hide the ring out in the woods and leave my phone for her to track. I could tell Dmitri it must’ve slipped off in the ocean, so no one would get blamed for a theft. Yet another lie . . .
The diamond caught a ray of sun, aggressive pinpricks of light stinging my eyes—as if it knew we coldly planned to fence it.
Yes, I was as superstitious as the next grifter, and I believed wedding rings were symbols.
By sacrificing the ring Dmitri had given me, would I jinx his feelings toward me?
Hell, would that even matter? I’d already stacked the cards against us.
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“While we were out, I had some things delivered,” Dmitri said over dinner.
We were enjoying apricot-basil chicken salad and heated croissants out on the pool deck. He’d opened a bottle of yummy wine, mainly for my consumption.
The sea breezes were easy and warm, that saltwater scent getting into my blood. “What things?” He was getting into my blood. I sighed when the wind ruffled his hair and his unbuttoned white linen shirt. He wore broken-in jeans and was barefooted. I loved this casual side to him.
“Some wedding gifts.”
“From you?” I gazed around at the house he wanted to call ours. “You haven’t done enough?”
“Not until I’ve given you the entire world, as promised.” In a teasing tone, he said, “I warned you I would spoil you to an embarrassing degree, yet you decided to be my bride anyway? Take your medicine, Vika.”
I grinned. “Dmitri, I hadn’t expected you to be this fun.”
He blinked at me. “I hadn’t expected anyone to consider me so. I have little experience with it.”
Money truly couldn’t buy happiness. “Today you had fun, right?”
After kayaking, we’d swum laps—or tried to—but we’d gravitated to each other in the water. I’d given him a slow hand job while he’d done more mind-blowing things with his fingers. Then we’d snacked and lazed naked in the late-afternoon sun.
Once we’d returned inside, we’d christened our large shower. I could swear the bench in the enclosure had been designed just for me to sit and suckle him. Not to be outdone, he’d lifted me to a high marble shelf, one seemingly made for me to relax back and spread for his kiss.
Fresh from coming in my mouth, he’d devoured me—and shown me a trick I could barely believe. . . .
“This has been the best day of my life,” he said. “Each day with you easily trumps all others.”
They had been great, but surely he’d had others make the podium. “No wonderful days from your childhood?”
Looking away, he said, “Not one that stands out.”
“What was growing up in Siberia like?”
That muscle in his jaw ticked. “Cold, brutal, miserable.”
Okay . . . “The weather? Or growing up?”
“Take your pick,” he bit out, his demeanor telling me to back off.
I would. I could give him time, because his wounds were still healing—as part of the process. Besides, the less I dug into his past, the less he’d dig into mine. I changed the subject. “What do you usually do in your free time?”
“I haven’t had any,” he said, his tone softer, as if he appreciated the reprieve. “I’ve worked diligently on self-improvement.”
I cast him a smile. “You and your changes.”
“I needed to be ready when my dream woman came into my life.”
Smile never faltering, I said, “Can you really call me your dream woman when you hardly know me?”
“I know plenty, Victoria.”
I raised my brows. “Like what?”
“I have to pace you during oral sex, or else you come too fast. When you truly open your heart to another, you do so for life, and you’re loyal to a fault. You’re patient. You’re protective. You’re secretive. But I know you’ll share all your secrets if I share mine. Your zest for life is boundless. And when your blue eyes brighten with happiness, I feel as if I’ve been drugged. To a man like me, you are a drug.”
&nbs
p; My lips parted.
Then I gazed away, thinking about my past. I could see now I hadn’t truly opened myself up to Brett. If I had, I wouldn’t be this over him. I knew I’d never receive another e-mail from him, and the only emotion I felt was regret that he’d been hurt.
Nothing more.
Maybe I’d tried to force that relationship because I’d been so enamored with normal. Maybe I’d held back my heart because deep down I’d known I was meant for a grifter.
So where did that leave me now? I was married to a gull, living the most abnormal existence I could imagine. “Wouldn’t your dream woman be heavy into BDSM?” I asked. “To match you?”
“Oh, you will be,” he assured me, his tone making me shiver. “Already you are an incredibly responsive and giving submissive.”
I didn’t know if I liked that word. Even if I loved to submit. “Have you been with a lot of submissives?”
“No. None that I know of.”
I frowned. “Shouldn’t you have tried out some others before you got married? What if you want, or need, to explore this with someone else?” Most men cheated—the nature of the beast, and all that—with far less reason.
“It’s taken me my whole life to find you. I will neither want nor need another.” God, he sounded confident. Smug, even. Like I might sound if I’d won the World Series of Poker. “Understand me, I will never be unfaithful to you. My wife deserves a devoted husband.” He believed what he was saying.
The way he talked reminded me of the shining devotion exhibited by his brothers. If Dmitri had been cut from the same cloth, maybe he wouldn’t cheat.
He might be the type of guy who went to Vegas with buddies and proudly kept his ring on.
But how could I ever trust that? My hurdles are too high. And in the end, the point was moot anyway.
With all the lies I’d told him?
“Why didn’t you have a lover already?” I asked, only to recall his behavior with babes like Sharon. “Actually, strike that question. Why did you chase women away?”
“Because I was looking for more than a bed partner.”
