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After seeing the entire collection, I wave my hand over it. “Sold.”
He chuckles. “You don’t want to know the price?”
“Don’t need to. My wife deserves it. She has to live with me.” I joke, shoving my hands in my jeans’ front pockets. Dressed in denim and a white T-shirt, my dark hair slicked back, I feel younger. Relaxed.
I return to the private viewing room thirty minutes later with two new tats.Katyawritten in script around the ring finger of my left hand stings, but in a good way. And because the artist was a dude, I took this all one step further and had my wife’s name tattooed right above my cock. I thought I would back out when he brought the needle so close to my manhood, but I heard Riordan and Shea’s skeptical voices about how I feel about Katya.
“Do it,” I muttered to the dude.
Archer shakes my hand when I leave with just the engagement ring in my coat pocket. Because of the insane cost of all the pieces I picked out for Katya, the shop holds the rest until I send someone to pick them up. For safety reasons. If anyone saw me come in here, they could follow me and attack when I’m with Katya. I didn’t hold back. I bought a chunky diamond necklace, two bracelets, an anklet, her wedding rings, and three sets of earrings, one diamond, one pearl, and one gold with little hanging triangles. Yeah, I didn’t want to be walking around with two hundred thousand dollars’ worth of jewelry.
I snicker, wondering if Kieran and Riordan bought this much ice for their women. We don’t compete, my brothers and me. We each have our areas of expertise. If anything, it will prove that I’m serious about Katya. I know neither of them tattooed their wives’ name on their dicks.
Fuck, Iamserious about her.
I get back to Katya’s school, and that same rotten feeling washes over me being able to just walk in here. Maybe because it’s summer…
Pushing my luck, I ask the one guard, “Where’s the auditorium? My wife is rehearsing.”
He looks me over, his neck craning. “Um.”
“Lachlan O’Rourke.” I stick my hand out to him. “My wife is KatyaKoslov.” I hate using her father’s name since she’s mine now. “I assume you were given instructions for her protection. She’smywife now.”
“Ah, yes, sir.” He nods, making me feel a little better. “Let me show you where she is.”
“Thank you.” I follow him.
“Use this door. It’s closer to the stage.” He opens it for me.
“Thank you.” I step inside to a blast of cool air. The hallways were stuffy because it’s almost August.
My throat tightens.It’s almost August. Her audition is coming up.
My eyes adjust to the shadowed darkness and the empty stage until the lithe figure I’ve honed in on comes to the center. I step back, not wanting to make Katya feel nervous.
Violins play, the metaphor ironic.
Wearing a dark green leotard with an adorable little see-through skirt, Katya twirls and leaps. She bends in half and with her hands over her head, she leans left, then right. She jumps in a circle, and something catches my eye on stage left. A man slowly walks toward Katya, but he’s dressed in street clothes, and my hackles rise. I yank my gun out and move forward.
The man reaches Katya, and she leaps into his arms. I relax, realizing the man isn’t some slob off the street, but…a dancer, too. Why didn’t Katya mention this guy?
She’s dancing with a man for her rehearsal?
Anger bubbles in my veins, but I’m not sure who to direct my ire to. She told me so much about her routine, but not that a partner was involved. A male one.
I keep watching. Having no understanding of ballet, I don’t know if the way this guy is touching my wife is appropriate. I can only go by her face, which seems soft and easy. She’s even smiling. I check my watch. I’m early. She didn’t want me to know about this. The routine turns intimate, and I can’t breathe, watching a man stroke a face that is mine. Lips I make smile when I’m inside her.
What the fuck is going on? Is she playing me? My sister’s voice about Katya being Russian, and how different and ruthless they are, crawls into my brain.
The male dancer lifts Katya, and she slides down his body, his hands clearly touching her breasts. I snap.
“Hey!” I yell, barreling toward the stage. “Let go of my wife if you want to keep those hands.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Katya
Iwatchtheburgundyscarred floor come up at my face as I free fall out of Adam’s arms. A shrill voice yelled from the seats, and he dropped me.
