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“I’m not going to cause trouble,” she says, interrupting me.
I stare a little while longer, taking in the way she worries her bottom lip and the way she tries to hide a sniffle. I don’t know what to say, just that I should saysomething.
“Your anger is misplaced. I’m not your enemy.”
Alina looks up at me. “You don’t mean that.”
“Yes, I do. You forget that I, too, am trapped in this arrangement.”
“Then call it off.”
“I can’t.”
“Whynot?”
I take a deep breath. “Do you honestly not know?”
“Just tell me, Pyotr!”
The sound of my name rolling off her tongue makes my chest tighten. It soundsgood. I’m pretty sure it’s the first time she’s ever said it. Is it wrong that I think she’s sexy when she’s all angry and frustrated with me?
Probably.
“The reason we got married was because—”
My phone starts buzzing. When I pull it out of my pocket, I see a series of messages from Merrybell.
Richard Eaton Jones is here.
He barged right past me.
He’s in your office.
Should I call security?
“That son of a bitch,” I grumble.
“What were you going to say?” Alina asks.
“I’ll tell you later. I have to get going.”
She puts her hands on her hips. “When are you going to be home?”
“I don’t know. Some time tonight.”
“And what am I supposed to do until then?”
“Whatever you want,” I say, already turning to leave. “I’m not your boss.”
“You’re not my husband, either,” she grumbles.
I whip back around and step into her space, dipping down so I can look her square in the eye. There’s barely an inch between us, the surrounding air suddenly hot and thin. She smells delicious, but what fascinates me more is the way her breaths quicken and her lips part just so.
“You have a bad attitude, young lady. If you’re smart, you’ll mind your tongue.”
“Really? I was going to say the exact same thing to you.”
There’s a challenge in her tone. It’s as infuriating as it is sexy. The more I stare at her lips, the more I want to consume them. If I claim them, then maybe she’ll finally quit with the sass.
