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“I didn’t come into your room to do…that. I came to talk to you.”
“Most people use their mouths for talking. Not their hands.”
“I came to talk to you, but then I saw you.” Her eyes glance down at my crotch. “I wanted to give you some relief. You liked it at first.”
“I assure you I didn’t.”
“Tell that to your dick,” she whispers. “You gothardfor me.”
Before the words are even out of her mouth, I snatch her off the floor and pin her to her bedroom door with my forearm barred across her throat. She yelps, but then goes perfectly silent as I crowd into her space.
“That was not for you,” I growl. “It willneverbe for you.”
She frowns. “If it’s not for your wife, then who is it for?”
I don’t answer the question because we both already know the answer.
Francia’s scowl deepens, but I lean in closer. “If you ever sneak into my room again, I’ll kill you.”
With that vow hanging in the air, I turn and march back to my side of the house.
22
IVAN
The knock at my office door is so soft that I almost don’t hear it at first.
Then the knob turns.
I assume it’s going to be one of the new maids. To save my staff from needing to interact with Francia quite so often, I hired a few extra sets of hands. They are young and skittish. I’m sure being ordered around by Francia all day has something to do with that. You have to be meek and mild to deal with her all day without committing homicide.
Instead of one of the new maids, however, my sister slips silently through the door.
“Anya? What are you doing?”
She quietly presses the door closed behind her and then turns to face me. “Avoiding your new roommate. She was in the sitting room. I had to crawl on my hands and knees through the entryway.”
“Since when do you knock on my office door?”
“Since I heard storming into your room uninvited is worthy of a death threat these days.”
I’m not surprised the story of me putting Francia in her place is making the rounds. I knew we had an audience. I’m glad we did. Francia might try to get her revenge, but at least everyone knows where I stand where she is concerned.
“I thought I told you to quit gossiping with my maids. Who do I need to fire?”
Anya smirks. “Niles.”
I fold my hands over my stomach and kick my feet up. “Bullshit.”
“I’m serious!” she insists. “It was Niles. He told me all about your little late night run-in with your darling betrothed.”
I shiver at the pet name. Francia is a lot of things, but she is sure as fuck not my darling anything.
“Even for you, that is impressive. You must have really worn him down to get that kind of gossip out of him.”
“Pfft, yeah right,” she snorts. “Niles couldn’t wait to tell me all about it. He might have even giggled a little bit.” She smiles at the memory, which is a welcome sight. There hasn’t been much to smile about for either of us in too long.
Then her smile fades. My sister shifts closer to my desk, her hand flat on the wooden top. “How are you doing?”
