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The last few days have been more than a little awkward considering I’ve been sharing a room with Viktor since we got married while not seeing him very much. He did not let me sleep on the couch, even when I tried to insist.
The idea of being in his giant bed and him sleeping on the couch, which could barely hold his frame, did not sit right with me. On the night of our wedding, when most couples would be sharing a bed and exploring each other’s bodies, we were trying to get some rest at two ends of the room unsuccessfully.
When I heard him turn over on the couch for the thousandth time, I sat up and huffed out, “This is ridiculous, Viktor.” His blue-gray eyes snapped to mine, the moon shining through the windows giving them an ethereal glow as they caught the light. “There is plenty of room in the bed for the both of us.”
The way his eyes widened in surprise was almost enough to make me giggle, but I was too exhausted by the day and the way my heart ached because I was married, but it wasn’t real. The wedding was beautiful, but it felt like pageantry.
The good thing was that I was out of Pavel’s clutches and that was something to cling to.
“Are you sure?” Viktor’s voice had a hint of vulnerability to it which surprised me.
Instead of answering him with words, I reached over to the other side of the bed—clearly his side considering his stuff was on that bedside table—and pulled the covers back with a flourish. I ran my hand over the mattress and patted it in invitation. I swear his lips twitched into a hint of a smile before he got up and prowled across the room and slid into bed next to me.
Once he was that close, my heart started pounding in my chest and I considered that I had, possibly, made a mistake by inviting him. But it was his bed.
It didn’t even make sense that I was moved out of the guest room. We could have been married while living in separate rooms. I would have thought it was his preference, honestly, but he didn’t seem put out by us sharing a room beyond the sleeping arrangements.
When I woke up the next morning, Viktor was already gone from the bed, but I swear I could still feel his warmth wrapped around me. It was like a phantom touch. Was it real? Was it just in my head?
I still don’t know because every night I’ve gone to bed before him and then he’s gone before I wake up. I know he sleeps next to me because of the way the bed is rumpled.
Is this the way it’s always going to be with us?
Even though this is an arranged situation, the rift between my husband and me is like a bruise that won’t heal.
The only thing I’ve been able to do is try and stay busy. I’ve been doing a lot of reading and I’ve spent time with Mistie. Mostnewlyweds would be on their honeymoon right now, but there’s no reason for us to take one. Nikolai asked about it when we were putting the wedding together, but I said it wasn’t necessary.
My head snaps up when Viktor walks into our room to find me curled up on the couch while I’m reading a book. He approaches me slowly, as if he’s unsure. It’s a new look for him. He might not hold the same domineering confidence of his brothers, but he has his emotions locked down tight.
I’m sure it comes with being part of a powerful family since I keep my face a neutral mask as he approaches me. His blue-gray eyes sweep over my body, and I almost wish I hadn’t put on something so casual. In my defense, I haven’t seen much of him, and leggings paired with an oversized shirt seemed like a good outfit for the day.
There’s no malice or annoyance in his voice, just curiosity, “Is that my shirt?”
I bite my lip as butterflies fill my tummy. I arch an eyebrow in challenge, trying to keep my reactions to him, which have gotten stronger since we got married, under control. “Maybe?”
He nods slowly, his eyes sweeping over me again. “I like you in my clothes,zhena.”
My cheeks heat no matter how much I wish I could stop it from happening. The corner of Viktor’s mouth twitches into an almost smile. His reaction shouldn’t make me feel like I’ve won something, but it does.
This thing between us is strange and fragile. I’m afraid, if I take one step in the wrong direction, I’ll be crushed when the tentative peace crumbles. It makes me feel unsettled and wary; I hate it.
“Are you hungry?”
I blink at the change in the direction of this conversation and my heart sinks a little bit even though it doesn’t make any sense. I shouldn’t crave his compliments, or his attention, but I do.
“I could eat,” I admit softly, trying to stuff down the wariness that wants me to move away from him.
I can feel the heat of him and it’s not like he’s pressed up against me or anything. It makes me wonder what it would feel like to have his skin pressed against mine. No matter how hard I try to think of something else, anything really, it doesn’t work.
I’ve gotten glimpses of his body here and there and I’m more than intrigued. I might be a virgin, but I can still appreciate him. He’s not as muscular as his older brothers, but I don’t think that means he’s not strong. The way the dress shirt he’s wearing pulls across his chest tells me everything I need to know.
“Can I take you out to dinner, Calla?”
My eyes rise from where I’ve been checking him out to find his eyes sparkling with something like amusement as he smirks at me. Damn it. I wasn’t even trying to hide the way I was checking him out. How is it that this man can make me forget to keep my feelings in check?
“Out to dinner?” I parrot his words, my brain a little muddled with the visions of his body pressing mine down against the bed we share at night. I shake my head a little bit to clear the lust starting to make the edges of my vision blurry. “Like out of the house?”
He chuckles softly and nods. “Yes, out of the house. There are some nice restaurants close by.” He arches an eyebrow at me, thechallenge clear, “Would you like to go out with your husband for dinner?”
