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Nikolai is taking away my room, my private space… my only refuge from him.
I can’t hold off on the confrontation any longer. If I don’t want to become his wife today, I have to act.
Leaving Lyudmila to do as she will with my closet, I stride to Nikolai’s office and knock decisively on the door.
“Yes?”
“It’s Chloe.” My voice is low and furious, my anger burning away all caution.
The door swings open, revealing Nikolai’s large, broad-shouldered frame. Propping a muscular forearm on the doorframe above his head, he rakes his gaze over my body. When his eyes return to my face, they’re a bright, predatory gold. “What is it, zaychik?”
“We need to talk.”
He takes a half-step back, his sensuous lips curving with dark amusement. “Come in, then.”
He’s still partially in the doorway, so I have no choice but to push past him. My shoulder brushes against his hard-muscled chest, and I catch a faint whiff of bergamot and cedar, mixed with the enticing musk of warm male skin. A familiar heat scorches my veins, my insides turning soft and liquid despite the fury burning in my chest.
Fucking biology. This is the last thing I need.
Clenching my teeth, I head over to the round table, where I plop down in a chair, my eyes locked challengingly on his face. I refuse to let my body dictate my actions, to have sexual needs decide my fate.
I’m not marrying this beautiful, amoral man if I can help it. No matter how I respond to him in bed.
“So…” He leans back, lacing his long fingers over his ribcage. His voice is brushed silk as he says softly, “You wanted to talk.”
I’ve had all morning to think of the best way to approach him, yet I still find myself tongue-tied, my thoughts in a chaotic jumble. Partially, it’s the way he’s watching me, with that cynical, mocking half-smile, like he’s already looked into the future and knows exactly what I’m going to do and say. But mostly, it’s the cool resolve I sense in him. The arguments I’ve rehearsed suddenly seem inadequate, the very premise of bargaining with him deeply flawed.
“How are you planning to do it?” I blurt finally. It’s not what I was going to lead with, but I have to know what’s in store for me if I fail. “How can you make me marry you against my will?”
The muscles around his eyes tighten minutely, even as the smile remains on his lips. “Against your will? Is that the lie you’re feeding yourself, zaychik? That you are being forced?”
Blood rushes to my face, anger mixing with illogical embarrassment. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that I’m doing you a favor.” His smile sharpens. “Decisions can be a heavy burden, especially when your ideas of what’s right conflict with your actual wants.”
My nails bite into my palms. “I don’t want to marry you. You asked and I said no, remember?”
“Oh, I do.” He sits forward sharply, the smile dropping from his face. “Some things are meant to be. One day, you’ll see it and be thankful, zaychik. For now, I’ll do what I must.”
“Which is what? Get some kind of officiant here? And then what? How will you get me to say yes?”
He doesn’t reply, just leans back with an inscrutable expression, and my imagination makes the leap.
Staring at him in horror, I choke out, “You’re going to drug me, aren’t you? That’s your plan.”
29
Nikolai
My clever zaychik. She does know me, no matter what she claims.
The little vial is already in my desk, the liquid inside ready to be sucked into a syringe and pumped into her veins. It’s the mildest, gentlest form of one of our special drugs, the dosage just barely enough to blur the edges of reality and lower a person’s inhibitions.
When I use it on Chloe, she’ll be aware of what’s happening, but she won’t object… because deep inside, she also wants this.
I know her by now as well.
Which is why I’m not surprised when she takes a breath and squares her slender shoulders instead of pleading or crying. “Fine,” she says, her voice shaking only slightly. “You win. But just so you know, I won’t forgive you if you go through with this. It will poison everything between us… just like your grandfather’s actions ruined whatever chance his marriage ever stood.”
Fucking Alina. I should’ve expected this, yet Chloe’s words still spear me like a fishhook, penetrating deep and snagging directly on my heart.
I lean forward, my tone sharpening. “You’re leaving me no choice.”
“No. You’re trying to leave me no choice.” She leans forward as well, glaring at me from across the table. “The no-condom thing—that was on purpose, wasn’t it? You didn’t actually forget.”
I hold her gaze, the flare of anger cooling as a peculiar ache bands around my chest. Is she right? At the time, it didn’t seem like a conscious decision, more like a primordial directive, an overpowering urge to be inside her with no barriers of any kind. The condom wasn’t even a consideration; it’s as if my mind had blocked out the existence of such protective measures, much less the need for them.
