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I inhaled deeply, not realizing I’d done the act, took in his scent, until I was barely able to stop the soft sound of… what? Neediness? Desperation? Arousal?
“When?” That one word was breathless from me, barely audible, but he gave me another one of those far too sexy corner mouth smiles.
“When, what,krasavitsa?” He took another step forward and I felt how tight my muscles were, as if I were anticipating… something.
I licked my lips and noticed his gaze dropped down to watch the act before he slowly, lewdly dragged his focus back up to my eyes. “When is the wedding?” For a prolonged second after I asked the question Nikolai didn’t speak, just continued to watch me. And then he smirked.
“A month from today,” Nikolai finally said matter-of-factly.
The air left me so violently I stumbled back, my father’s desk stopping my fall. “Next month?” My voice was strained.
“Get yourself under control, girl.” My father hissed. “Stop being dramatic.”
I felt like we were all silent for so long, only the sound of my racing heart filling my ears. But then I blinked myself back into focus and heard my father speaking to Nikolai, his tone sterner now. I knew it was because Nikolai had offended him with the way he spoke to my father, a disrespect Marco probably would never get over.
I tuned out everything else as I focused on the fire. The room, scene, conversation… all of it drowned out as my pulse pounded in my ears once more.
“Because the date of the wedding has been pushed up, we’ll have to forgo an engagement party.” My father’s voice brought me back to focus and I looked at him.
I chanced a look at him to see his jaw clenched as he looked at the other men. Clearly this change of date and plans made my father upset. I knew how he felt.
And I knew it was all because people would talk, gossip. The rumors would spread on why the wedding had been pushed up, why there wasn’t an engagement party to announce the celebrations officially.
They’d think I was tarnished, tainted. Pregnant out of wedlock, perhaps.
More talking, more tuning out.
“That’s all, Amara,” my father snapped and I straightened, not sure what he had said before that, but knowing a dismissive tone when I heard it.
I turned and started walking toward the door but didn’t realize how close Nikolai was until I felt my shoulder brush against his hard chest. I felt a jolt of electricity move through me but was pretty proud of myself for not letting it visibly affect me as much as I wanted it to. I looked at him then, his gaze locked on me, his expression showing so much…promise.
I left my father’s office and closed the door softly. I took a few steps away from the room and found myself leaning against the wall, my eyes closed, my palms flat behind me on the damask wallpaper, the texture cold and almost grounding me.
I felt dizzy, nauseous. I was getting married one month from today. How had I gone from my father telling me I was part of an arranged marriage to the wedding being thrown together this quickly?
Of course I wasn’t a fool. I knew there were other things in place which had accelerated the date, things I’d never be privy to. Things I probably never wanted to even know about.
I opened my eyes and stared at the arched ceiling, the light from the chandelier in the foyer casting a glow down the hallway. If I went right I’d go back toward the front doors, then take the stairs and lock myself in my room.
Instead I found myself taking a left, wanting to go outside, to get fresh air, to look at the sky and clear my head. I knew Edoardo would find me sooner or later, but when I was at home he gave me a little bit of breathing room, wasn’t right on my heels because of all the cameras and security that my father had in place.
I’d only made it about ten feet before I heard a door behind me open and close, and then heard the heavy sound of footsteps coming up behind me. I was just about to stop and look over my shoulder, assuming it was my father about to berate me for being too “dramatic” in front of Nikolai and Dmitry, but just as I was about to turn I felt a heavy body press against me and use their strength to move me until my back hit the wall.
I was now situated in a corner alcove, the light not penetrating the space so it was filled with shadows blocking the view of anyone who happened to pass by.
I gasped and craned my neck to look into a pair of bright blue eyes, Nikolai’s expression hard, unreadable. Although he used his body to corral me where he wanted, he wasn’t touching me any longer, now about a foot between us, his body heat slamming into me and making it hard to breathe.
“W—what are you doing?” My voice was barely audible, nothing but a breathless sound leaving my parted lips. My heart was thundering in my chest, threatening to burst free of my ribs, and I felt jittery, adrenaline pulsing through my veins, the flight or fight instinct running hard in me.
He tipped his head to the side as he looked down at me, the shadows wrapping around the sharp planes of his square-cut jaw. And still he didn’t speak, didn't answer me.
My entire body jolted when I saw him lift his arm, and then my gaze was latched onto his hand, which rose higher and higher until his hand was close to my face. But he didn’t touch me, not for long seconds. I stared into his eyes, not able to breathe or think.
It was when I felt his fingers gently stroking along my upper arm that I snapped my head down, not even realizing he’d moved his hand back down.
“Not breaking his hand for touching you was really hard,kukolka.” His voice was low and deep, sinister in the way he said the words. “Yes, that’s what you are, isn’t it?” It sounded like he spoke to himself, murmuring the words low and deep and so very heady. “My little doll.” He looked at my mouth again. “Krasavitsa,” he murmured.“Beauty.”
I looked up but saw he was watching his hand on my arm, still felt his thumb brushing back and forth. He lifted his focus back to my face then and I held my breath.
