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The girl fell asleep before they were even out of New York, exhausted by their long journey. He should have been, but he was too keyed up to relax. Having Varushka in the United States, after waiting so long to meet her, was surreal. It gave him the uncomfortable sensation of being irrevocably responsible for another human being’s welfare. He’d had submissives before, often two at a time, but he’d brought Varushka here and she had no support system except him. In the past, some women he’d dated were somewhat dependent on him, but in Varushka’s case he was literally the only thing standing between her and homelessness—between her and danger.
It almost felt like he was taking responsibility for a child, and that scared the hell out of him. He wasn’t ready to be anybody’s daddy, even if the kid in question was twenty-one. Maybe she had life skills, but they would do her very little good in a foreign country.
His silent drive home gave him time to think, but none of his thoughts were comforting. It was official—he was crazy, just like Ambrose had been saying for the past nine months.
Varushka woke only as he turned off into the driveway of his house. It was dark out, but the timer had flipped on the outside lights so at least they could see their way to the door. Varushka stood outside on the front walk, gazing up at the house.
“What is this place? I thought we were going to your home.” Her brows knit in confusion.
He held out a hand and coaxed her up the stairs. “This is my house,” he replied simply. “Your house too, if you choose to stay here.”
She frowned. “I’m too tired for jokes, Konstantin. Why are we here?”
He keyed his passcode into the control panel and opened the door, then led her into the foyer. The sleekness and clean lines of the marble, glass, and metal soothed him. He was not a man designed for farm living, and although he enjoyed visiting his babushka, it always made him appreciate coming home.
“I’m not joking, Varushka. I live here.”
Konstantin had to force himself not to laugh as he watched her examine her surroundings in horrified wonder.
She tucked her hands behind her back and laced her fingers together. “I—I can’t live here. How can you live in a house where you can’t touch anything?”
This time he did laugh. “If you’re that worried, I’ll show you the things that are expensive, that should be handled with care. But nothing in this house is off-limits to you. If you want to look at something or touch something, feel free. If you break something I’ll just buy a new one.”
Her stare was reproachful.
“In Nasva, they say you are a wealthy man, but I thought maybe you had a nice house and a new car. After everything you pay for in our village, I never thought you would have house like this too.”
He smiled at her, trying to push away his discomfort. There were times when he worried she’d been given to him as a sacrificial lamb—as some sort of repayment for the money he contributed to his old community. He really hoped she didn’t see herself that way. He didn’t want a wife who’d volunteered to marry him out of a sense of obligation. It had never been his intention to buy himself companionship.
“Go ahead and look around. I’ll grab our bags from the car.” He went back outside, retrieved their things, and carried them up the steps. At the beginning of the trip, he’d asked her if she was planning to send for her other things after they were settled in America, and had felt like an ass when she’d told him everything she owned was in the bag. He wondered how she’d deal with the culture shock.
She was still standing in the foyer when he came back into the house, as though she was too afraid to explore without supervision.
He closed and locked the door, then showed her how to use the keypad to get in and out of the house. He could tell it made her nervous, but she did her best to follow his directions.
“My security company knows that you live here now, so if you do the wrong thing they’ll contact you and you can explain what happened and they’ll help you fix it.” Her eyes went wide. “Don’t worry. I pay them, so they’ll be nice to you no matter what happens.”
She nodded but didn’t look relieved.
Room by room, he took her through the house. Rather than getting used to the environment, each new thing seemed to be a fresh shock. When they reached the master bedroom, she stood in the doorway, a furious blush coloring her cheeks. She avoided looking directly at the bed. When he led her into the master bathroom, however, the sight of it won a giddy laugh from her, which she smothered with both hands.
“You like it?”
She walked in behind him and went to the tub, placing her hands on the edge and looking into it, as though she was expecting it to do something.
“This house is like one from a magazine. Do you have baths in here? It’s like having a swimming pool next to your toilet.”
“Do you know how to swim? If not, I’ll buy you some water wings in case you want to take a bath,” he teased, but the joke seemed to go over her head.
She looked at it longingly, then turned her back and walked out of the room. He’d have to remember to offer her the chance to use it, because he had a feeling she’d never ask.
“Is there a schedule of what needs to be cleaned on what day?”
she asked. “Or will you leave those decisions to me?”
“A cleaning service does all that. The most we ever have to do is dishes, and even then, someone comes by to take care of that in the morning if we don’t do them.”
Her eyes widened. “But what am I supposed to do all day if I’m not taking care of your house?” Her hands fell limply to her sides, and she seemed lost.
