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“Equal say. I want to be consulted on big decisions. Especially the ones concerning me, our life together, and the baby I’m carrying. You don’t get to decide things for me without my input.”
I laugh cruelly in her face. “That’s ridiculous.”
“If you want me to be a good little partner, then you need to make sure I’m happy. You know what they say: happy wife, happy life.”
She thinks she’s got the upper hand here. She thinks she’s just dangled a carrot that I won’t be able to resist.
She thinks wrong.
I take the last step to close any remaining distance between us. Paige sucks in her breath, but refuses to retreat. I admire her resolve, especially since she has to crane her neck up to meet my gaze now.
“There’s one problem with your logic, Paige,” I tell her softly.
She narrows her eyes, trying to hide her inner thoughts from me. But I can see the panic mingled with her courage. I can taste her fear and her arousal like priceless liquor.
“I gave up on being happy a long time ago. All I want is to come out on top.”
She frowns. I notice she has a tiny little scar across her right eyebrow. It’s shaped like a dagger with a broken hilt.
“Aren’t those the same thing?” she asks tentatively.
I shake my head. “Not in my world.”
The heat of our bodies merges and grows. We’re an inferno of chemistry and emotion and bad decisions. If we stay like this, I’m pretty sure I’m going to do something stupid. Something really fucking stupid—like kiss my future wife for no other reason than because I want to.
So I step back.
The distance is a bucket of ice water over us. Paige blinks in alarm and I see she’s clutching the pendant hanging between her breasts.
Her eyes leave my face and teeter down to my chest in retaliation. That’s when I realize that I’ve got my hand on my dog tags, too.
She’s already asked me about them once. I don’t intend to give her the chance again.
“Leave,” I growl. “Now.”
To my surprise, she goes, taking her box of bullshit with her.
21
PAIGE
I’m spared the indignity of storming in to see Misha again when I run into him at the bottom of the floating staircase.
It took a good hour before my heartrate returned to normal after our conversation this morning. One glimpse of him now and it’s hammering away once more.
“Back on the warpath already, Paige?” he asks flippantly.
“Where is my stuff?” I ask through gritted teeth. “I went to the bathroom. When I came back, my stuff was gone.”
“You mean that cardboard box of junk? I’m sure a maid disposed of it. Hopefully, in the fireplace.”
I have to bite back the urge to grab my pendant. He’s noticed the habit too many times for me to be comfortable resorting to it now. But my fingers tingle and itch uncomfortably.
“What was the point of having my things brought here if you were just going to throw them out?”
I should have known this palace was too good to be true. The only upside of being married to Misha would be living like royalty, so it would be just like him to snatch that away, too, just to prove I’m powerless here. He probably has me set up in a roach-infested shed out back.
“Come. I want to introduce you to my staff,” he says instead of answering me. “Soon enough, they’ll be your staff, too. I think introductions are necessary.”
