Page 14 of Taming Mika

Still, that’s far from the only reason I’m here. As the tall grass whispers around me, brushing against the tailored legs of my trousers, I contemplate how to broach the subject again. Mika said she won’t be my mistress. But I can’t get our last encounter out of my head. The lean curves of her body molding perfectly against me—they haunt my every waking thought, and at least half of my dreams.

I felt how much she wanted me. And even if she wants to deny it, I intend to see just how serious she is about that line she refuses to cross. I get the sense that, behind all her sharp-tongued rejections, she craves orgasms and physical pleasure just like any other woman. I just need to convince her that being my mistress wouldn’t mean she’s any less significant to me than my wife.

Especially since breaking off my engagement with Ana Kapranov isn’t much of an option. Doing that would have severe consequences—ones I’m not overly enthusiastic about facing, not if I can convince Mika otherwise. Which is why I’m hoping if I give her a bit more of a nudge, we can reach an understanding.

Because I don’t like the alternative.

But whether I can convince Mika or not, I’m confident of one thing. I can’t control myself around her. Usually, I pride myself on my restraint, my ability to look at a situation objectively and stick to the most logical outcome.

I agreed to my engagement in the first place because I knew it would be best for our family—not because I particularly wanted to get married. And while I’ve heard she’s quite beautiful, that’s all just rumor until I see her walking down the aisle. After all, it’s in Nikolai’s best interest to have the world believe his daughter is exceptional.How else is he supposed to reap the most benefit out of her betrothal?It’s the way our world works, and I went into this arrangement willingly because I’m getting plenty out of our alliance as well.

Better trade opportunities, for one. And I’ll have far less challenges to face without having to sneak past the Russians every time I want to do business on the east side of the city. Not to mention, Nikolai’s daughter would be able to provide me with an heir.

But all of that feels inconsequential when it stands in the way of thisthingbetween me and Mika. And I fully intend to have her—one way or another.

I can hear the familiar trill of Spanish before I reach the barn alley. It’s similar enough to Italian that I can make out the topic of conversation—even if I don’t actually speak the language. The hands are discussing the sale of the barn, their curiosity over what could convince the Carvers to sell when they were sure the couple would take this place to the grave with them.

Laughter echoes down the aisle as someone suggests that they would have found their graves a lot sooner than expected if they hadn’t sold the property. It’s familiar gossip—nothing I haven’t heard before. And I don’t mind the rumors. It’s a lot easier to get business done if people believe I’m capable of just about anything to get what I want.

The laughter stops abruptly as I take a step inside the barn, the heel of my dress shoe snapping smartly against the concrete. Several sets of eyes drop to the ground, the grooms busying themselves with cleaning the stalls they were working on.

“Morning, gentlemen,” I say, pretending I don’t know what they were talking about in the slightest. I don’t really want one of my first impressions here to be tyrannical. And I know from experience the gossip will die down after they’ve had some time to adjust to the new management. “I’m looking for Miss Harper.”

“She’s in the arena,” one of the grooms says, pointing toward the wide doorway halfway down the aisle.

“Thank you.” Heading in that direction, I catch the sound of Mika’s voice, muffled from the walls that stand between us. But I can just make out her directions to whoever’s riding—or rather, trying to wrangle what must be a yearling just learning to accept a saddle.

Rounding the corner, I catch my first glimpse of her. Hands planted firmly on her hips, she has her back to me. Her thick head of blonde curls is tied up in a messy bun once again. And today, she’s wearing a racerback top that shows off her mild farmer’s tan along with the hard muscles of her shoulders.

“Get your heels down, Max, if you want to stay on—and don’t let him put his head between his knees like that. If you keep his nose up, he won’t catapult you,” she commands.

But as Max leans back, anchoring herself in the saddle so she can bring the horse’s head up, he seems to think better of it.

“There you go. Now, just talk to him. Let him wrap his mind around it for a minute,” Mika coaches.

The rider does as she’s told, murmuring softly, though she keeps an iron grip on the reins.

“First time under saddle?” I ask, stepping up beside Mika.

Her head snaps in my direction, her hands falling to her sides as her captivating eyes find mine. “When did you get here?” she asks harshly. “I didn’t hear you land.”

“We walked in from the south pasture,” I say, smirking at her look of shock. “Landed about twenty minutes ago.”

“You walked all that way?” she echoes, her eyes dropping to my Italian leather dress shoes, like she can hardly believe I would do so in a suit. Then, her gaze flicks back up to meet mine. “I didn’t realize you were coming. Did I forget a meeting we set up?”

“Not at all.”

“Then how can I help you, Mr. Bonetti?” Mika cringes, as if she regrets asking the question like she did. “Why are you here?” she rephrases before I can answer.

“I plan on attending some of the races this year. I’d like to know the schedule you’ve mapped out for our horses—which ones you intend to take which horses to.” Sliding my hands into the pockets of my trousers, I study Mika’s body language as she turns to face me.

Her shoulders sit about an inch higher than usual, her hands flexing as her back remains ramrod straight. She’s definitely not over the way we left things the last time I was here. And she’s not happy that I came without warning her.

“You didn’t need to make the trip up here for that,” she says, confirming my assessment. “I could have emailed you the schedule.”

A loose curl dances across her cheek as she speaks, finding the corner of her mouth. And before she can reach up to move it, I step closer, slipping my hand from my pocket to brush it behind her ear.

“I know, but seeing as I own the place now, I may as well indulge inallit has to offer,” I whisper, but Mika jerks away from me, taking a half step back.

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