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I can’t decipher the look he gives me. It’s not exactly pity, but it’s definitely not indifference. I find trace hints of admiration behind his dark eyes, along with a healthy dose of something close to longing.
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, so close I can feel his words whisper against my cheek. The sound of his voice echoes inside my skull. Mikhail doesn’t strike me as the kind of man to apologize for anything, yet here he is, cradling me with the utmost care.
I move first, slowly tilting my chin up to angle my lips against his. He makes no effort to stop me when I lean in to kiss him, our mouths slotting into place with ease. I’m so used to Mikhail being rough with me, taking whatever he wants, whatever I’ll let him get away with. So this kiss can only be described as special.
It’s all things sweet and gentle and almost timid, in a way. We reallyaredoing everything out of order, but I can’t say I mind in the slightest. In the short time I’ve known Mikhail, I’ve come to trust him more than anyone I’ve ever met.
“Let me take you home,” he says against my lips.
“I don’t really feel like dealing with Charlotte right now.”
“Who said anything aboutyourhome?”
A grin tugs at the corners of my mouth.
Oh.
Chapter 18
Aurora
Ilook around in pure amazement.
“I knew it,” I mutter under my breath.
Mikhail follows me, standing only a few paces behind. He casually tosses his suit jacket over the back of a nearby chair, loosening his silky red tie. “What?”
I gesture to the space, exasperated. “I should have known you were eccentric when you bid a million on me, butJesus. You basically live in a castle in the sky!”
He chuckles, pointing a single finger at the ceiling. “There are two additional floors,” he says, sounding surprisingly humble for a man who just told me he owns the penthouse of one of the tallest buildings in all of New York. “I’ll give you a tour after dinner.”
I arch a brow in amusement. “You know how to cook?”
“No,” he says dryly. “I live off of cold coffee and stale donuts I happen to find in the breakroom.”
A soft laugh rises out of me. “Okay, maybe I deserved that.”
“Come.”
“I’m sure there’s a joke I can make in there,” I tease as I follow him through the open space into a massive kitchen area.
I wasn’t exaggerating before when I said this place is basically a castle. My tiny two-bedroom apartment could fit in this place five times over, and that’s just the main floor!
I’m pleasantly surprised that Mikhail hasn’t fallen into the terribly bleak minimalist style everyone and their mother seems to be going after these days. The walls are a rich forest green, the leather living room seats a deep chocolate brown. The earthy tones of his home make it feel equal parts elegant and cozy, a forest scape well above the concrete jungle below. The maroon hue of the curtains covering the floor-to-ceiling windows facing south overlooking Central Park only add to the regality of the place.
I feel a little bit like a princess up here in Mikhail’s unreachable tower, peering down at the rest of the city from on high. The only question is: is Mikhail a monster who has me in his grasp, or my Prince Charming? I can’t figure out which category to put him in. He can be mean when he wants to be, but so damn thoughtful, too. Maybe I like that he’s a little bit of both, too complicated to put in a neat little box.
“Sit,” he instructs, gesturing toward one of the fancy bar stools lined on one side of his white marble countertop island. I do so, oddly intrigued by every one of his movements.
This is Mikhail in his natural habitat, his home. At work, he’s a jaguar. Powerful and strong and territorial. He’s still all those things here, only more relaxed in his den.
There’s nothing sexier to me than a man who rolls the sleeves of his shirt up to just below his elbows, exposing strong forearms and big, meaty hands. Mikhail is silent as always, but it’s a comfortable kind of silence, one neither of us feels the need to fill with pointless chatter. We can just exist and be at ease in each other’s company.
Mikhail grabs a few ingredients from his big double-door stainless steel fridge. He sets a plastic bag of fresh snap peas in front of me. When I give him a confused look, he says, “Trim the ends off.”
“Gonna make me work for my meal, huh?” I chide.
“It’s only fair,” he replies with the smallest of smiles. It’s a dazzling thing to behold, his smiles so rare I feel slightly breathless. I like the way his smile seems to light up his whole face, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he does.
