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I can’t help but feel a perverse sense of delight, a fucking win, even. This whole scenario is batshit crazy, miles away from what I’d figured today would look like.
I haven’t laughed like this in a long time.
A room full of professional nannies, and the one who steals the spotlight is the one who’s clearly out of her element.
I can’t remember the last time I laughed so hard that I cried.
Not since before Mama passed and Yulia was a baby.
Before my double-crossing uncle – my mother’s own brother – put a bullet in my father’s skull, screwed me over, landed me behind bars, and made Dimitri and Erik his next targets.
Before my entire freaking universe blew up.
But Sophia’s eyes are shooting bullets my way. Her eyebrows have pulled together like she’s trying to solve a particularly difficult crossword puzzle.
Her lips are pressed into a tight line, not soft and inviting as I remember, and her whole body is tensed up like she’s ready to throw a punch. The sight is more amusing than intimidating.
I’ve had a taste of her, but it’s not enough. It’s never fucking enough. I’m pretty certain that the more I get, the more I’m going to crave. It’s a vicious cycle, a hunger that only grows, a thirst that can’t be quenched.
I want more. I need more.
And I’ll be damned if I don’t take what I want.
The laughter dies in my throat, and the room goes deathly quiet, like the aftermath of a gunshot.
I stride toward her like we are the only people in the room. My nostrils flare with her scent; flowers and vanilla. It’s intoxicating, familiar.
“I’ve missed you, krasotka,” I growl, closing the distance between us. The words slip out unfiltered, raw. “You’ve been away too long.”
Sophia’s reaction is anything but subtle. Her brows arch, a snort escaping her as she gives me a once-over, a mixture of disbelief and amusement etched on her face.
Her anger hits me next. Like a punch to the gut. She’s pissed. I was laughing; she thinks I’m belittling her. It wraps around my mind like barbed wire, drawing out feelings I shouldn’t have.
Aggression.
Dominance.
Lust.
Fuck, it hits me below the belt. I want to have her screaming my name, clawing at my back, lost in waves of pleasure. My balls tighten in anticipation, a beast in my pants roaring to claim what’s his.
I look at her, the thrill of the chase pulsing through my veins.
“She’s the one I want,” I declare, my voice bouncing off the walls of the room filled with candidates standing rigidly in front of me.
Chapter 19
Luka
“WHAT-? SHE gasps, her face a mask of shock and confusion. Wondering why the fuck I picked her, no doubt. A smirk twitches at the corner of my mouth. It’s pure entertainment, seeing her so rattled, so fucking lost.
“You look confused, krasotka,” I say, indifference coloring my voice. My smirk deepens as she cringes beneath my attention.
I love it, watching her squirm like this.
“I- I am not,” she stutters.
“Not what?” I interrupt, my impatience seeping into my tone. “Second-guessing?” I lean in, close enough for my lips to brush her ear. “This is not a game, Sophia.”
