Page 45 of The Arrangement

“You’d have every right to.”

Yeah, she probably would. If the night before was any indication of the kinds of arguments she could expect in the future, she hoped to hell she’d get a decent time lapse in between them. The physical tax it took was nothing compared to the emotional toll. In fact, while her scalp still stung from where he’d grabbed her hair, and every muscle in her body was screaming for a hot bath, none of that made a difference to the heavy weight on her heart.

“Look at me, please.” Those blue eyes of his lifted, but she sensed how hard it was for him to do it. The bloodshot gaze he leveled on her said he likely wasn’t feeling too well, either. “Do you even remember how much you drank or what you said? Did you mean it?”

He wet his lips, drawing her gaze to the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed with an audible sound. “Mean what, because I said a lot of things.”

“Any of it. All of it. Give me something, Anton.”

The afghan blanket that covered them was twisted in his hands. He tugged it up around her shoulders a little tighter. Wrapping his naked legs with hers, it caused the hard length of his erection to press to her stomach, and made his morning desire known.

“A lot of my business is done under the influence of strong liquor with men who could drink me under the table. I try not to say things I don’t mean, even if I’m acting like a stupid fool. Otherwise, it could lead to nowhere good.”

“Try not to,” she echoed quietly.

“Yes, try. And most times I failed miserably, so I’ve taken to using one of Nicoli’s old tricks where my alcohol is watered down significantly without anyone else knowing. While others are stumbling drunk by the end of the evening, I still have my head clear when I need it most. It might break our code, but drinking too much often leads to guns being brought out when they don’t need to be, or fists flying. Makes for messy situations I only have to clean up later.”

Viviana wanted to smile at his admission, but the sadness in his eyes and tone rang clear. “But?”

“Mistakes happen,” he said. “Would you like to know why Nicoli began having his liquor watered down?”

“Shoot.”

“Exactly, shoot. Or, a shooting to be precise. One that took away his wife.”

Air caught painfully in her throat. “Oh.”

Anton hummed a miserable sound, frowning. “My grandmother used to enjoy being a part of whatever dealings she could that he would allow. Usually it was the loudness and Russian culture that kept her going with him. The atmosphere gets a little rowdy, especially with the older generation. He always said it reminded her of home.”

“You drinking out of anger isn’t okay. Especially if it’ll lead to another repeat of last night. You were hiding things and I let it go, but I expect an explanation Anton. Last night … that bothers me.”

It truly did. More often than she could remember, too much liquor led to issues in her own family. Everyone always felt things needed to be celebrated with some kind of alcohol, be it babies, dealings, or whatever. No one ever seemed to know their limits. Things were said that couldn’t be taken back. Grudges were held. Stupid, little things that led to bigger issues. Viviana didn’t want to handle that with Anton, too.

“I keep any social drinking at home, and only with people I most trust, like Ivan. Last night was brought on by something else entirely.”

“That’s not my point. And you didn’t explain yourself.”

“I know,” he replied, just as softly. “I understand what you’re saying. I’m telling you I hear you, Viviana. I need you to trust me when I say I will tell you. I’m not hiding it purposely, I just can’t right now.”

“I’m not okay with that, either.”

“I know, but it’s the best I can give.” Anton sighed before rubbing a hand over his face. “There’s also the issue of drugs, I suppose. They float in and out of my businesses more than water, but I haven’t touched a chemical in years, not since I was doing my rounds as a brigadier and in need of something to keep me awake and aware for Nicoli’s calls and nonsense. It didn’t matter, though, because every single time Nicoli noticed the high in my eyes, his disappointment was the first thing to be voiced.”

“Years?” Viviana asked, wanting his confirmation on that again.

“Like I said, chemical wise, no. Remember that night in Barbados with my smoke kissing your lips? You took my shotgun hits like a pro.”

Oh damn, just the way he voiced that old memory sent her lust in a tailspin. Viviana managed to nod; a little bit of weed was the last of her concerns. Something akin to memories and excitement skimmed over her skin like a dancing, rolling hum. That night was the first time she’d ever tried pot, but certainly not the last. Many of her firsts had been given to the man beside her.

“That’s a rare pleasure, and I keep it very private,” he said.

“I’m okay with that, on occasion.”

He grinned slyly and she felt her own form in response. “Good to know.”

“And thank you,” Viviana added, her voice above a whisper.

“Fucking hell. For what? After last ni—”