Page 71 of Unbreakable Vow

“I really don’t think so. But thank you.” I run my hand over the sleek material of the skirt.

“Do you think Sergei would bring an ugly duckling to the party? No, he would not,” she chastises me.

“No, he’s brought the ugly duckling to you to make her into a swan,” I joke, but her frown deepens. “I’m just kidding, Genova. The dress is beautiful. I love it. Really.”

I take another look in the mirror. I’ll need to pin my hair up, I think.

“Can I look in the big mirror up front?” Sometimes it’s better not to know what my ass looks like in a dress, but I don’t doubt Genova’s skill. I’ve never had a dress fit so well before.

“Yes. Yes. Sergei will want to see the dress before I wrap it up and send it over.” She walks with me around to the front where Sergei is standing with a scowl on his face.

My stomach drops. I know this look.

“Does the dress need alterations?” His dark eyes pin me to the floor while he asks Genova the question.

She hesitates only for a moment.

“No. I don’t think so. She looks wonderful, yes?” She brushes my hip as though to get rid of a piece of lint. “He’s unhappy, I think,” she mutters to me.

“It’s me. Not the dress,” I say quietly back to her.

She nods.

“We need the salon, Genova.” Sergei still keeps his gaze locked on me.

I swallow past the guilt. “I think we can go home now.” My voice squeaks slightly.

“Cora. Take the dress off and give it to Genova.” Has he even blinked?

“Sergei. We can talk at home, right?”

“I’ll help you from the dress.” Genova unzips me and helps slide the garment from me as I step out of it.

“I will lock up when I’m done,” he tells her.

His shoes click against the marble flooring as he slowly makes his way to me. Each sound taps out a warning of what’s to come. And it’s a sinister soundtrack.

“Good luck,” Genova whispers to me, then disappears as if by magic. The back door shuts and a bolt slides into place.

“Sergei, people outside can see.” Trying to keep everyone from seeing my naked breasts, I wrap my arms around me. I had to take the bra I was wearing off to put the dress on.

“No, they can’t.” He picks up my hand. “Up on the platform, Cora.”

“Why?”

“Because you have a lesson to learn, and you need to be on the platform for it.”

Once on the platform, I try to tug my hand from his, but he doesn’t relent. Instead, he tugs me downward.

“On your knees.” He uses his gaze to point where he wants me kneeling.

It’s humbling enough to get down onto my knees in front of him, but it’s absolute torture to do it nude, with mirrors surrounding me. Graceful, I am not.

“Sergei, I’m sorry I said what I did. I wasn’t being insulting to myself. I was just being honest.” He’s a logical man. He has to understand what I’m saying is true.

He steps behind me, leaving me to stare at myself in the mirror. My breasts are heavy, and my nipples are hard thanks to the air conditioning and his unwavering attention to my reflection.

“You’re not sorry you said what you said, you’re sorry I heard you.” He unbuckles his belt, keeping his eyes locked on mine in the mirror while he tugs it free from the loops of his pants.

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