Page 99 of Sweet Animosity

I suspected I knew why, but couldn’t fathom him having the audacity to do it.

“I can be very persuasive.”

My eyes widened. “And evasive. Oh, my God! You didn’t. Tell me you didn’t.”

He stretched open his arms. “What?”

Leaning forward, I glared at him. “In sickness and in health? Did you tell the hospital you were my husband?”

“And if I did?”

Digging around in the covers on the side of my bed, I reached for the nurse call button. “This is beyond controlling—even for you.” I pressed the button. “I’m getting a nurse to kick you out. And I’m telling them you are not my husband.”

He launched out of the chair and caged me in with his arms as he leaned over the bed. “Listen very carefully, krasivaya. I’m doing my best to keep my anger in check. Keep fighting me and see what happens.”

The nurse popped her head into the room. “Did you need something?”

Var pierced me with his glare. I swallowed, unable to speak.

Keeping his gaze on me, he called over his shoulder, “No. Now close that door and don’t open it again unless I summon you.”

The nurse bowed her head. “Of course, Mr. Rubashkin. I’m sorry, Mr. Rubashkin.”

The nurse closed the door, leaving us alone again.

What the hell?

How had he cowed the nurse that easily? Did she know he was part of the Russian Mafia? Was that why? Did everyone in this freaking city fear this man?

Var rose and took a deep breath as he continued to loom over me. “We need to get a few things straight, Vivian.”

I lowered my head and looked away.

In this moment, all I wanted to do was go home.

I wanted to take a nice long bath, and then crawl into bed, pull the covers over my head, and forget about the whole embarrassing incident.

I still couldn’t believe I’d been so careless as to mix that varnish without making sure the room was properly ventilated. Stupid window.

Apparently, my skipping lunch after such a rich breakfast of Eggs Benedict on top of the two glasses of wine, which thinned my blood, didn’t help.

My cheeks burned with the thought of Var finding me collapsed in what was probably an unattractive heap on my apartment floor.

In my mind’s eye, there was also a humiliating pool of drool on the hardwood.

All I wanted to do was go home and forget all about it. As well as the last week.

Maybe one day, fifty years from now, I would enjoy remembering that insane time when I was sleeping with one Russian Mafia boss while being chased by another, all because of a couple of paintings… but not now.

Now, I just wanted to disappear under some covers in a dark room with a bottle of wine and a box of chocolate chip cookies.

His hand on my chin interrupted my thoughts. “Look at me.”

I was in no position to fight him. “I don’t see what you have to be angry about. I’m the one stuck in this hospital bed.”

When he spoke, his voice was low and calm.

“I told the staff you were my wife, because that is precisely who you will be as soon as I get you out of here. And after the stunt you pulled today, you’ll be lucky if you don’t spend the next year chained to my bed for your own safety.”

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