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“Nikolai got himself a princess.”
“Not an answer.” I look her up and down. I know when someone’s messing with me, pushing me, and after what I’ve been through, this woman is no match. She’s barely a blip on the radar.
Jealousy? Anger? Now those are different.
She’s in my hotel suite, and Niko isn’t here.
She knows him. There’s an ease to her that speaks of history, but I don’t care. How dare she be here?
“I think you should leave my man alone and get out of our room, or else I’ll—”
“Rose.”
I freeze, and a flare of triumph lights her eyes, so small, a lesser female would have missed it.
Good thing I’ve never been lesser.
I might not have her slickness, sophistication, or elegant beauty, but I’m smart. If his voice holds a note of regret, if it’s too gentle to be a good thing, I’m not about to let her see.
“Yes?” I turn, and it’s a gut punch. Nikolai’s standing in the doorway to the bedroom, jacket and waistcoat off, tie undone.
For a devastating split second, all sorts of vile, depraved, and horrible things slap me in the face.
Like he kissed her. Slept with her.
Wants her.
Then, his gaze locks onto mine, and the heat of his look melts all that away.
Something settles. Nikolai might be a lot of things, but he isn’t a cheater.
I’ve no idea who he slept with before he kidnapped me, who he might have been seeing up until we started something. I don’t know if there was someone after he recovered from being shot in those weeks he’d sent me away.
I haven’t let myself ever go there, the latter part especially.
In my heart, I like to think the answer is no one. Ibelievethe answer is no one, and I’m sticking to that.
“Nikolai?” I ask quietly.
He holds my gaze a moment longer, and the heat stays, right up to when he flicks his glance. Then, it’s pure stone and he’s my untouchable, beautiful monster.
Cold, hard, andmine.
The woman crosses her arms, and his gaze shifts back to me, the ice melting. It’s the only giveaway to my Niko in the hard man standing here.
“Finished shopping?”
She makes a small sound, and I fist one hand. Normally, I’d flounce or lay claim, but there’s something in the air, so I stay where I am. “Yes.”
“Rose, meet Adelaide. Adelaide, meet my Rose.”
MyRose. To think I used to hate it when he called me that name. Now, I love it.
Neither of us say a thing, and I finally take a step forward.
His gaze doesn’t leave mine now. “Sit,” he says, “and be quiet.”
I breathe out shakily, heat snaking through my skin.
