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“Can I get you a drink?” she asks.
I bite back a swear word. Does she think she’s my servant?
“Would you like one?” I ask, heading for the bar fridge. I hold up a can of soda and a bottle of water. “I’m not too big on alcohol,” I tell her. Losing my inhibitions right now would be a bad idea. I need my inhibitions now more than ever. “But if you want, I’ll order some wine.”
She finally smiles and it pierces my chest like an arrow. “I’m not technically legal to drink alcohol. And I don’t really like the taste anyway.”
Her innocent proclamation is another arrow to my heart. Even though I’m dazzled by her, I’m also getting increasingly pissed off at myself. Because this isn’t part of the plan. With two cans of soda, I head to the couch that wraps around the living area and sit down.
“Let’s just unwind for a bit,” I suggest. Over the years, I’ve come to realize that a good way to get past an infatuation is to get to know someone. Cynical, maybe, but helpful at times like this.
She sits beside me and we chat about inconsequential things, nothing deep or important, but she still holds my interest and keeps up with everything I throw at her to try to prove to myself that she’s dull or vapid. I can tell she’s holding back and it infuriates me as much as it excites me, because now Sera is a challenge.
And she’s anything but dull or vapid. It’s hours later when she finally unsuccessfully smothers a yawn and I jump up.
“That’s it. This was fun, but it’s time for bed. I’m sure you must have been up since dawn getting that three hundred pound dress on.”
She laughs and bites down on her lip, her eyes growing wide when I reach to help her off the couch. There’s pure terror all over her face. “I don’t—I’m not—erm,” she stammers, popping up to duck under my arm. She looks at both bedroom doors with tense shoulders, as if she’s holding her breath.
Do I want to fuck her? Absolutely. More than I’ve ever wanted anything. But I’m not going to make her do anything she’s not ready to do.
“You can have that one,” I say, pointing toward one of the rooms. When she remains utterly still, I stride over and open the door. “Unless …”
She scurries past me. “No, this is great. This room is perfect.” She stops inside the room and looks at me, her tense shoulders relaxing. “Alexei?” she says shyly.
“Yeah?” I say, struggling to not betray how hearing her say my name in that soft, eager tone makes me much too close to changing my mind about the room situation.
“Thank you.” Her cheeks turn red and she swings the door shut in my face.
I take a deep breath, not sure whether to laugh or punch something, and decide a cold shower is in order. As I’m halfway across the suite I hear her shout my name. I’m back to her door in an instant. Swinging it open and expecting to find an assassin with a knife to her throat, I can’t help but laugh at what I see instead.
Sera stands there in her bare feet, her post-wedding dress twisted up around her thighs and her hands grappling helplessly at the zipper behind her. “This damn zipper has a safety clasp I can’t get undone,” she says, dropping her arms with a frustrated huff.
Third arrow to the heart because it is fucking adorable watching her struggle to get out of her dress. But holy shit, she wants me to help her get out of it?
I stride to her side and take her by the shoulders, turning her away from me. Sweeping her long tangle of curls away, I let my fingertips glide down the back of her neck, smiling when she shivers. God I love seeing how she reacts to even the smallest touches. Leaning close, I inhale her sweet scent.
“Let me see,” I say, my breath across her neck raising goosebumps on her arms. She very subtly leans back. Just an inch, but enough to bring my cock up to press against my tuxedo pants. There’s nothing especially difficult about the tiny hook above her zipper but I want to stay this close to her for as long as I can. When I can’t stand it and my mind threatens to let my body take over, I finally unclasp it and lower the zipper halfway down her back.
Taking a step away, I devour her smooth, bare skin with my eyes, find myself reaching for her lacy white bra. Remember what her body felt like pressed to mine, remember that chaste touch of our lips.
Especially when she turns back, to thank me again, her cheeks rosy.
I have to get out of here.
“Goodnight, Sera,” I say gruffly, hightailing it out of there as if all my father’s past enemies are after me.
Fuck. Fucking fuck. Not part of the plan at all.
Chapter 3
Sera
It’s still surreal. I have a new life in a new home. We only stayed in that opulent hotel suite for one night, then Alexei decreed it was time to go. He seemed impatient to get back to his real life and I worried about what was going to happen to me. Would he stick me in some room somewhere and I’d have even less freedom than before?
Turns out, it’s the complete opposite.
His apartment is huge, taking up the entire top floor of one of the nicest buildings in the city. The open-plan living area is modern but surprisingly comfortable, with warm colors and ceiling-high glass shelves packed with books and interesting artwork. I almost apologized for being shocked to learn Alexei enjoys reading, because how could a brutish mob boss love philosophy or history or even novels? I don’t think I’ve ever seen my father or brother read anything other than a text message or contract.
