Page 39 of Lord of Passion

"You're my wife now," I enunciate. "Mrs. Nikandr Morozova. The wife of theSovietnik.You do not go into offices alone with other men. You are not alone with other men unless it's one of your bodyguards."

She's staring at me as if I just set the couch on fire while reciting a filthy Irish limerick.

"You're not selling this,Sovietnik." God, she loves that little snap she uses on the 'k' at the end of my title. "This little show–" she gestures angrily between me and her, "It's just that. Ashowand when it's done, I still have a hotel to run."

"We'll talk about that," I say, enjoying each layer of fresh outrage I seem to be piling on top of her. "You won't be spending as many hours there, so I hope you've trained your staff well enough to function in your absence." I pick up my iPad, going through a couple of new messages, pretending to ignore her.

"What do you mean function in myabsence?"My new wife steps in front of me, pushing my iPad away. I admire her audacity. If a man had tried that, I would've shot him in the face.

"I recognize this life is new to you, even though you were, as you said, mafia lite?" She's too angry to nod, simply standing there, vibrating with fury. "But you're a Bratva wife now, you'll be required to accompany me occasionally when I travel, attend special events, occasionally meetings where the optics are better if it seems to be more of a family event." The blood has drained from her face and she sways. I almost feel sorry for her. Almost.

"Come now, this can't be a surprise," I say, my voice lowering. I take a step towards her. She takes a step back. "Alexsey and Liria, for instance. Do you think she would be allowed to work twelve-hour days at a hotel?"

Oh, that one got her. She charges at me, hands fisted. "How fuckingdareyou judge me! My business sense is good and I'm makingmillionsfor this family, and you have the audacity totell me that I'm bringing some sort of shame on the House of Morozov, like I'm the fry cook at Bill & Edna’s Diner?"

She steps away from me, pacing in front of the windows and I admire the perfect silhouette of her body in the light. She storms back-and-forth. "And also-" She points at me triumphantly. "Ella, the matriarch of the Morozov Bratva is a doctor, as is Ava –"

"Physician assistant," I interrupt by habit.

"What?"

"Ava is a Physician Assistant, she's quite specific about it," I explain.

She stares at me for a moment. "Yeah, okay. They are medical professionals, who work ridiculously long hours, I know because I've volunteered at the clinic a couple of times."

That surprises me. "You have?"

Her expression is defensive now. "I wasn't aware I needed clearance from you to do that." She's so agitated that she doesn't notice that I'm following her, more or less herding her into the tower where the circular room will make it easy to trap her.

Caroline realizes this when I'm standing in the doorway and she's in the middle of the tower, framed by the windows all around her.Bozhe moy, she's fucking gorgeous. The sun is shining in on her hair, lighting it into a dozen shades of brown, blonde, and a hint of red. Her eyes are alive with rage and she's never looked more beautiful.

"I'm aware," she says calmly, controlling herself with a visible effort, "that you are used to people doing whatever you tell them to. That for you, it is your due to be obeyed without question.However, I'm not one of your minions. I don't jump every time I hear a bolt of lightning and smell the brimstone, announcing that you've come back up to the surface to torment us mortals. I may be stuck in this ridiculous marriage with you but I'mnotyour puppet. Thisisgoing to end."

Why do I hate hearing that?

"And I will be continuing on with my career. So, no,Sovietnik,you do not get to decimate my life for the next few months while this is all straightened out."

I reach up, resting my hands up on the door frame. This distracts her for a moment as she admires my arms while pretending not to look at me. "Are you finished?" I ask civilly.

"Yes." She draws the world out with a sibilant 'sss'.

"As my wife, you now require constant surveillance. Your position is both safer and more precarious."

She frowns. "What the hell does that mean?"

"It means while the average thug won't dare get within a mile radius of your location, more vicious, powerful men might find you a target to get to me."

Putting her hands on her hips, Caroline shakes her head in disbelief. "Wow, this is just sounding better and better with every dire warning coming out of your mouth! Your powers of persuasion arelegendary,I can tell."

"What I'm trying to explain," I continue patiently, "is that you will not be able to wander off on your own anymore. You require two bodyguards, and that will make your position of general manager a bit more complicated. You will not be able to go out on runs at 2 am and throw yourself off buildings."

Her fingers begin to tap against her hip.

I drop my hands from the door frame and step closer to her. She stiffens, but she holds her ground. "This lifeiscomplicated, but it has immeasurable benefits. I can get you anything you like, take you anywhere you wish, do anything you want. Within reason," I add quickly. "And with proper security."

She takes one step closer, tilting her chin up defiantly. "I don't need your money," she says. "I already have twenty-five million of it. You're a terrible poker player."

There's something between us, a sizzling recklessness that I felt that night in the elevator. My hands are nearly shaking with the need to touch her, stroke her face, cup her spectacular breasts again. I put them back in my pockets.