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“You’re drunk, is what you are.” She picks up the phone, and I take a few steps forward, frowning.
“What are you doing? I told you, if you try to find some way out of this—”
“Relax.” She laughs again. “I’ve already resigned myself to the fact that I’m stuck here for now. But I’m not going to starve, and it’s clear you need some food to soak up some of that vodka. You said you were ordering us dinner, but it looks like you forgot. And since you’re paying, I’m ordering room service. And it’s going to beexpensive.” She smirks at me. “It’s the least you can do.”
“Lidiya—”
“Hi! Yes, I’ll have—two Wagyu burgers with the tomato bacon jam, Gruyere cheese and a side of lemon truffle fries, the honey butter sriracha chicken tenders with a side of blue cheese, umm…caprese salad and…the mango cheesecake. And if you can have the bar send up some vodka and mixers? Yeah, that’s fine. Charge it to the room, please. Levin Volkov, that’s right.” She pauses. “Me? Oh, I’m Mrs. Volkov. Natalia Volkovna. Yes, that’s right. He didn’t say? Well, I surprised him. Thanks so much.”
By the time Lidiya hangs up the phone, I’m staring at her. “What the fuck was that?” I manage.
“Well, since you’re keeping me cooped up here, and forcing me to go back to mykusok der’maof an ex boyfriend, I figured the least you could do was buy me a gourmet dinner—”
“Not that,” I almost choke. “The part about being Mrs. Volkov.”
“Oh. Well, they seemed a little suspicious about me placing that order, so I thought it was the easiest way to get them off my back. Don’t worry, you can still sleep on the couch. Honestly, that’s probably the most marital thing we could do.” Her eyes flicker with mischief, and I can seeexactlywhat’s happening.
She’s making fun of me, pushing my buttons to see if any of them will make me snap. Honestly, I don’t care all that much. The expensive dinner will eat at my pay for this job—Vladimir certainly isn’t going to cover that, but it’s not as if I don’t have a hefty bank account already. I just choose not to spend it on things like gourmet burgers. And though I’ll certainly get shit from Vladimir and anyone else who hears about her calling herself my wife to the front desk, I don’t really care about that either. It’s hardly the first time I’ve taken a ribbing over a woman.
It’s the fact that her mischievous attitude, her ability to find a way to poke fun in the situation even though I know deep down she’s miserable, only makes me want her more. There are layers to this girl, plenty of them, and I want to peel all of them away. It’s not just sexual, either, which makes it that much worse.
I can think of more marital things that we could do than me sleeping on the couch. And afterward–
Never, in all my adult life, have I ever felt the urge to lie next to a woman after sex, exchanging pillow talk in the darkness, curled in each other’s lingering warmth as we whisper to one another, learning more about each other. I’ve never wanted anything more than the intense pleasure of a good lay, and then the peace of my hotel room or apartment once the woman in question is gone. My days are full of violence and blood, and I crave peace and silence in the hours when I’m not working.
But I don’t just have the urge to fuck Lidiya, though that’s certainly there in spades. I can picture what comes after, too, her blonde hair spilling over her pillow and onto mine, her head on my chest, her hand on my hip and mine on her waist as her blue eyes shimmer through the darkness and I whisper things to her that I’ve never said to any woman.
It all adds up to one very clear thing—Lidiya is dangerous. More dangerous than any mark I’ve ever chased—because I can feel that she poses a danger to a part of me that I’ve never paid much attention to.
Lidiya Petrovna is a danger that I can feel down to my very soul. Which is why I say the next words, even though I know they’re cruel, even though I know they’ll hurt her.
“And who the fuck is Natalia, to make you pick that name?”
Lidiya
Igo very still, setting the phone receiver down and looking at the handsome man standing a foot away from me, clearly a little drunk, but that does nothing to detract from his good looks.
“You know everything about me, from what you’ve said,” I say quietly, my hands gripping the sides of the bed. “You know who Natalia is.”
“Maybe I’ve forgotten.”
My jaw clenches. “If you didn’t want me to order room service, you could have stopped me.”
“I don’t care about the room service.”
His eyes meet mine, and I see something almost pained in them. I get the sense that there’s something deeper going on than I’m aware of.
“Natalia was my sister’s name,” I say quietly. “She died when she was young, in the same car accident that killed my parents. But of course, you knew that, because you looked into me. I don’t know why you’re asking that question, unless it’s just to be needlessly cruel.”
A beat of silence passes between us, Levin’s icy blue gaze holding mine, but I don’t flinch or look away.
He has all the power over me right now, I know that. My life, mybabushka’s life, he holds all that in his hands. But deep down, I don’t think he’s a truly cruel man. I don’t think he’s taking pleasure in causing hurt—or potential hurt—to either of us. Which makes his comment all the more confusing.
But I’m not about to let him think that he can get away with being cruel. That he can say something just to say it, and watch me shrink back. I have to maintain whatever power I can here, and I won’t let him think that he can cow me, or just say whatever he wants.
But as another beat of silence passes, and then another, I see him take a step back instead, and to my absolute shock, he actually apologizes.
“I’m sorry,” he says finally. “You’re right, that was out of line. I knew the answer, and I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
