AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The kitchen is a dream, airy and spotless to the point that I figured he only ever eats out, but each of the three nights we’ve been here, a cook has come in and made something. Her name is Greta and she might as well be a model, and when Alexei complimented the meal she made on our first night here, I felt my chest fill up with something awful, like I was drowning.
Was it jealousy? How could it be? Greta only thanked him and left, but I’m determined to make my famous lasagna that even my jerk brother Dmitri has to admit is amazing. Why do I want to cook Alexei a meal so badly? And why do I keep hovering around his office door, waiting for him to get done with his work? I head back to my room before I get caught. I’ve never acted like this before and it’s hard to figure out what’s happening.
It’s probably because, so far, he’s been nice. More than nice. I have full run of the apartment—no being stuffed in a room, even though I love my new room. Besides the big comfy bed and decked out bathroom, there’s a cozy reading nook by the window that looks out at a breathtaking view of the river. The fact he isn’t pushing me into his bedroom is a relief … At least I think it is? He’s so intensely handsome I can’t decide.
No, it’s a relief. I’m here for a reason that will make Alexei hate me when my year sentence is up, so it’s better this way. Just when I catch him looking at me with those sinfully dark brown eyes, full of something I can’t understand, or when he’s changed from his tailored suits into jeans and a t-shirt to reveal the tattoos climbing up his muscular arms, I waver. I find myself wondering what it might be like if I tripped and fell into those arms again and stayed there this time.
Yeah, better to stay in my room, study, and get through this year without making things difficult.
Him being so generous doesn’t help my mixed feelings. He said I can go shopping and decorate any way I want, and change anything I don’t like. But so far it’s perfect—calm and quiet, unlike my old room at Papa’s compound. The room I grew up in never really seemed like mine since my brothers and his idiot friends were always stomping past, or Papa’s bodyguards were always checking up on me as if I was constantly plotting against him or something.
You’d think that my husband, the stranger, would be paranoid like that. Not my own father.
Oh my god, my husband. I’m actually married. I jump out of my chair, dropping the first aid book I was trying to study and wander out past his office again.
My coat is hanging in the foyer, and one of the paintings from my old room is now hanging in the hallway leading to the back of the apartment. It really seems like Alexei is trying to make me feel at home.
My things only arrived yesterday, with Alexei’s men laughing and joking with him as he chipped in to help bring up all the boxes of my clothes and books and decorative things from my childhood.
“It doesn’t matter,” I told him when he asked what I wanted from Papa’s house. I only had to stay here a year, after all. His confused face made me realize my stupid slip and I covered it as best as I could. “I don’t want to be a bother. You have everything I need here. I don’t mind starting fresh.”
He leaned close, searing me with a very stern look. “Sera. You’re my wife. You’re not a bother. Tell me what you want my guys to pack up.”
So I did, mostly to keep from reaching for him, to touch him like a wife would. He called up his second in command, Niko, and a few others, and ordered them to get right on it.
All I could do was stand and watch in awe, because he refused to let me lift a finger to help. His men were actually teasing him! And no one got shot or even punched in the face. Nobody seemed the least bit scared of him, but yet they jumped to do what he asked without any hesitation. Afterwards, they sat around eating pizza, joking and laughing some more.
It was odd to say the least. I guess that’s what real respect looks like. Respect that’s earned, not dragged out of someone with threats and violence. Yes, very odd. It makes me feel things I’m not used to—that could prove dangerous if I explore them or let them grow.
I pause outside his office door, which is cracked open. Alexei is sitting at his desk with his stubbled chin resting in his big hand, his brows drawn together as he looks at something on his computer screen. I’m silent, taking him in, still trying to wrap my head around the fact that he’s my husband.
No, I can accept that part. What I can’t seem to comprehend is the fact I don’t hate him, or even resent him. Which makes my reason for being here extra sticky. I didn’t mind the idea of spying on him when I thought I could write him off as a ruthless mob boss like my father. But he’s not ruthless at all. And in three days together he’s shown me more kindness than my father ever has.
He looks up and notices me. I force myself not to jump or run away. His eyes trap me and pull me a step into the room as a slow smile curls his lips and makes him one thousand percent more handsome. And he’s already too damn good looking for anyone’s good.
“Hey,” he says, running a hand through his hair so that it stands up in all different directions.
I long to get closer, lean across his desk, and smooth it down. Pull him closer so that … So that what, Sera? What do you want him to do?
“Hey,” I say back. “I was wondering if you wanted me to cook dinner tonight, instead of Greta.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “Do you want to?”
“Only if you like lasagna,” I say, feeling strangely bold.
“Love it,” he tells me, standing up and moving toward me. “It’s my favorite.” He looms over me and pushes a stray strand of hair off my cheek. “I could use a break.”
His computer screen is facing away from me and I can’t see anything, but I didn’t notice him click anything so whatever he was reading could still be on there. Now’s my chance to possibly find something out. I’ve already been ignoring Papa’s and Leo’s messages the past three days. They’re going to get angry soon. Even though it feels safe here with Alexei, there’s no place that’s truly safe when Papa’s angry.
I reach up and massage Alexei’s shoulders. It’s meant to distract him from going back to his desk, but it only sends me into a tizzy, feeling those hard muscles beneath my fingertips. Being close enough to feel his warmth and smell his heady cologne.
“Why don’t you go get a shower and I’ll get started in the kitchen,” I suggest.
His smile does something to me that I need all my strength to ignore. “Okay. Then I’ll help out. Save me some vegetables to chop or something. You’ll see how good I am with my hands.”
As if to prove his point, he rests his palms against my waist and it does feel very good. Too good. I swallow hard and try to stay upright. “Sounds like a plan,” I say.
He playfully squeezes me and leaves me alone in his office. He doesn’t shut down his computer or shoo me out ahead so that he can lock up behind himself. His misplaced trust makes my head spin.
