He cut in. “You talk too much.”
“Yes…I mean, I will use the bathroom.” I disappeared into the bathroom and shut the door behind me. I stood at the sink and looked at myself in the mirror for a long moment.
After scolding myself for embarrassing myself, I cleaned up and came out of the bathroom with my chin up. I walked across the room without looking at him. I found the far side of the bed,pulled back the sheet, and slid in. It was best to stay as close to the edge as the mattress allowed. The bed was generous enough to fit a small family, which was the only thing working in my favor right now.
I stared at the wall and reminded myself that I wasn’t his type. I only satisfied him in one specific way because it was convenient, and that was the end of it.
The lights went off, and I went completely still. The mattress adjusted under the new weight, and Dmitri settled behind me, close enough that his warmth made its landing on my back.
I acted like I was asleep.
His hand came down on my hip, and I stopped breathing. It moved across my stomach, and he pulled me backward. My back pressed against his chest, his arm settling across me, holding me in place.
Was he cuddling?
“Goodnight, wife.” His voice came from just above my head.
I lay there with my heart knocking so hard I was certain he could feel it.
“Goodnight,” I whispered. God only knew if sleep would come.
I stared at the darkness, trying to determine whether he was really asleep. I could only find out by starting a conversation.
“It was a surprise that you could cook,” I said.
There was a beat of silence before he spoke. “You haven’t seen anything yet.” The voice carried that kind of pride that didn’t need to announce itself.
Honestly, he could be proud. A man with everything handed to him who still learned to cook was either bored or raised well.
“Grandma taught you?”
“I learned.” His jaw brushed against the top of my head. “Before you ask from whom, it was my mother.”
Caitlin told me his parents passed away.
“She died,” he continued. “In case you were working out howto ask.”
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?” he asked. “Were you involved with whoever killed them?”
I scoffed and shifted against him. What was wrong with this man? Wait, did he say they were murdered?
“They were killed?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“By whom? Why?”
He sighed. “Enough about my dead parents.” His hand moved along my thigh, a slow trace that sent chills up my spine. “Any reason you weren’t sleeping in this bed before tonight?”
“I was. You just weren’t here to notice.”
“Hm.” That sound told me he didn’t buy that. “I almost forgot you were a pretty little liar.”
“I’m not a liar,” I said quickly, but I remembered I was in this bed with him because of my lies. “It was one lie.One.”
“The first night I came at eleven, the bed was empty. The second night, twelve forty—”
