Page 56 of Marrying the Savage

My life has become very inconvenient.

Damir opens a door at the end of the hall. A bedroom.

My entire body goes alert.

It’s enormous, of course. Dark wood floors. A fireplace. A bed large enough to host a diplomatic conference. Windows overlooking the cliff. Heavy curtains. A sitting area near the fire. Nothing soft except the bed, and even that looks more expensive than inviting.

I stop at the threshold.

Damir continues inside like he doesn’t notice my hesitation.

He notices. He notices everything.

“This is your room,” he says.

I step in slowly. “Mine?”

“Yes.”

“Alone?”

“For now.”

My head snaps toward him. “For now?”

He removes his cuff links with calm, devastating indifference. “You need clothes. Food. A doctor to look at your wrist.”

I look down. There are faint marks where Dmitri held me.

I close my fingers over them. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing.” The simple certainty in his voice makes my throat tighten.

I hate that.

I hate him a little for noticing.

He places the cuff links on the dresser. “Mikhail will arrange for your belongings to be collected from Sergei’s house.”

“My uncle will allow that?”

“No.”

I wait.

Damir looks at me. “Mikhail will arrange it anyway.”

“Of course.”

He walks toward a side door and opens it, revealing an enormous wardrobe. Mostly empty shelves. A few hanging garments covered in cloth. No dead wives, thankfully.

I really need to stop thinking about Bluebeard.

“You will be given staff,” he says. “A guard detail. A phone.”

“A phone?” I repeat. “How generous. Will I be allowed to call people, or is it decorative?”

His gaze cuts to me. “You may call your friend Anya.”