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She winks.
Then she comes.
And so do I.
It only occurs to me when I can finally breathe again that my wife knows exactly what she’s doing.
For the first time, this is a war I might lose.
21
PAIGE
It’s been almost an hour since I used Rada’s phone to send my little home movie to Misha.
I felt a surge of confidence as I watched the message load and deliver. When I saw he opened it, I couldn’t even hold onto the phone.
But every passing minute where Misha doesn’t respond sees my anxiety double.
I’ve gone for a jog around the property and then spent an hour in the pool doing lap after lap after endless, exhausting lap. None of it has helped soothe the restlessness in my bones.
Rada can sense my nerves. She’s been checking in on me every fifteen minutes like clockwork. She appears in the doorway to the patio now, perfectly on time. “Mrs. Paige, can I get you anything?”
I stand up, shaking off the last of the pool water and squeezing it out of my hair. “No, thank you. I’m actually headed upstairs now to change.”
She nods and turns to leave. I want to let her go without being pathetic. I don’t want to ask again. But I can’t stop myself.
“Um, Rada? Has Mr. Orlov… Has he messaged back?”
She shakes her head, looking apologetic. “No, ma’am. Nothing.”
She has no idea what I sent to him. I deleted the video from her phone after sending it. I also assured her that Misha would know who sent it to him and she wouldn’t be in trouble, but I can see she’s still terrified.
“If he asks you anything about it, just tell him I hijacked your phone, okay? Say I made you do it. He’ll believe you.”
She swallows and nods. “I will.”
I thank her again and head upstairs to my room. Maybe a cold shower is what I need.
I’m about to slip out of my white bikini when I hear thundering footsteps just outside my room. My heart soars at the thought of Misha. But it’s the middle of the day. He wouldn’t leave the office before lunch to come home and—
“Paige!” Misha’s voice roars down the hallway.
Whoops.Maybe he will.
My bedroom door bursts open, and I wipe the emotion from my face. When I step out of the walk-in closet in nothing but my bikini, I look as pure as the driven snow.
“Aren’t you supposed to be at the office?” I ask innocently.
His eyes are angry slits. His jaw is flexing. Every muscle in his body radiates tension, and I love knowing I’m the one who put it there.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
I tug playfully on the strap of my bikini. “I was considering taking a shower. Maybe a bath, actually. Care to join?”
My hand trails slowly over my chest. Misha watches it the entire way, his anger never abating. “What were you thinking?” he growls at me. “You sent that from the maid’s phone!”
“You confiscated mine. I didn’t have a choice.”
