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“No part of me being with you has been a duty. I don’t sleep with you or fuck you because I have to. I’ve done it because I wanted to.”
“You think I believe our wedding night and the time after was for fun?”
“Don’t mess up my words. That was duty, but the times since, I liked it, and I didn’t do it out of obligation. I happen to enjoy your hands on my body, but right now, I want you to let me go.”
I tried to shove him away. He held me closer. His lips brushed against the curve of my neck, and I hated how weak I felt toward this man.
“You’re not a duty to me, Aurora.”
“After what you just said, you expect me to believe you?”
“Have you ever considered the fact I say things to find out what you think?” he asked.
I looked up at him. “What?”
“You heard me.”
He wouldn’t repeat himself. It was why whenever he talked, I forced myself to listen to every single word.
There was a knock on the door before it opened. The woman who’d been assisting us stepped in.
Slavik released my neck but placed his hand on my hip.
I gritted my teeth. He never seemed to want to let me go and it both thrilled and annoyed me. Slavik had my emotions all over the place.
“I want those dresses wrapped up and ready to go.” He took the dresses from my hand, gave them to the assistant, and within a matter of seconds, we were out of the shop.
His men surrounded him.
“How are we going to pay?”
“Everything has been taken care of.”
“Oh,” I said, feeling like an idiot for asking.
We walked through the city center. People avoided us, some crossing the street to get as far away from us as possible.
Slavik kept his head held high. He’d donned a pair of sunglasses, and I couldn’t see his eyes.
I walked by his side. His hand on my hip. A brand of ownership.
We made our way to a restaurant. Two of his men entered and we followed. The maître d’ was there to offer us a table, and we sat down.
Wine was poured into our glasses. Slavik spoke Russian to the waiter, and then we were left alone.
I stared across the table. Rather than drink the wine, I went with water.
“Why are we here?”
“We’re going to enjoy a meal.”
“We have the banquet tonight,” I said.
“Not for another six hours, and I’m not going to go that long without food. This is one of my favorite places to eat, and the Stroganoff is delicious.”
I nodded.
The restaurant was bustling with activity. I sipped at my water. I expected Slavik to go back to his cell phone.
He’d put it away. His gaze was on me.
I locked my fingers together.
“Do you know how to make small talk?” he asked.
I shook my head. “No. We’re in an open place.”
“We’re fine. My men are on guard.”
“Doesn’t that scare you?”
“I’m not afraid. What will happen, will happen. Nothing I can do to change that. I have to react. You know what it’s like. I seem to recall reading three years ago there was a shooting right outside the school you and your sister attended, correct?”
“How did you know about that?”
Slavik smiled. “Who do you think arranged it?”
My mouth fell open. This couldn’t be happening. “You’re telling me that I’m married to a man who tried to kill me?”
He shrugged. “Your father had attacked one of my ports, killed six of my men. The ports were supposed to be safe territory. We hadn’t attacked his, or anyone else’s. I had to find a way to hit back. His wife and children were very easy targets as they were … never guarded quite as well.”
“I don’t know what to think about that.”
He shrugged. “You can be pissed off with me or accept it is in the past. Neither your sister nor you were hurt in the end. If memory serves, no one was.”
“Weren’t you disappointed?” I asked.
“No. The end result wasn’t to actually kill you.”
“Then what?”
“It was to begin the talks that led us to this day.”
“Oh.” I looked down at my hands, which were clenched together. “Is that why you wanted marriage? You saw my sister.”
Slavik sighed. “They really are in your head, aren’t they?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Yeah, you do, and I find it sad that they can so easily get under your skin.”
I hated how easily he read me. All my life, I’d been told I didn’t compare to my much prettier older sister.
“Everyone wants Isabella.”
“You’re right. She is a pretty girl, but that is where the attraction stops. You think when your father offered up you in place of Isabella I didn’t do my research?”
I didn’t want to ask, but I found myself doing so. “What kind of research?”
“To see how you and Isabella compared. Even in your secluded world, there were enough people who knew you. Everyone talked about how Isabella was a beauty. She’d make a fine wife and a trophy. Any man would be pleased to have her. No one said anything about her mean side. How she got good, loyal men killed because they wouldn’t do her bidding.”
