Page 36 of Bloody Lace

Evelyn tugs her lower lip between her teeth. “He said that it didn’t matter if I married the son of the Yashkovs. That all that meant is that I’d made myself a better target. That they attacked the first time because I was an easy target, but now they can strike at your heart.”

I frown. “What did you say?”

“That you can’t strike at someone’s heart if it’s not a part of the deal.” She shrugged. “He laughed at me and said I’m a fool to think that I haven’t made it all worse.”

It takes me a minute to absorb the second part of what she just said. The first part, about striking at someone’s heart, jabs at mine for reasons I can’t begin to let myself think about. Because she’s right, of course. This marriage, this deal, has nothing to do with anyone’s heart, and everything to do with what is practical. With what we need from each other.

So why does it bother me so much to hear her say it out loud.

I clear my throat. “Vik will get him somewhere that he can’t bother you again. We’ll find out what’s going on here. And in the meantime—” I try to catch her gaze, but she keeps looking around nervously, as if she doesn’t want to look right at me. “Do you want to leave?”

“And make this the second party I’m embarrassed at because some enemy of yours runs me out early? No thank you.” Her voice quivers a little despite the attempt at humor, and I take a step forward, as if to go to her. But she steps back, shaking her head, and I see her smooth her hands nervously over the feathers of her skirt.

“This might have been a mistake.” That shaking at the edges of her voice intensifies a little. “All of this. This isn’t going to stop, is it? Just because we’re married?—”

“I told you that I would protect you. Whether it stops or not, that’s still true. And you need my protection. Without it, they’ll still come after you. We’re too far into this now, and you can’t handle someone like him alone. You know you can’t, Evelyn.” I appreciate her strength, and her independence, but I need her to understand that she’s in over her head. That this is beyond what she can handle without my help.

Evelyn bites her lip, shaking her head as her fingers tug at the feathers. “That was—” Her voice falters, and she glances back towards the reception. “I shouldn’t have made this deal. I don’t belong here.”

“We just have to get through this. And then I’ll take you home, and you can focus on the shop. The worst is over.” I try to reassure her, but I can tell that it’s not getting through to her. That she’s on the verge of running, and that makes me feel panicked in more ways than it should.

I don’t want to lose her.I shove the thought away as soon as it flits through my head, because it makes no fucking sense. I’mgoing to lose her, eventually, when our deal is done. There’s no question about that.

“Home.” She rolls the word over on her tongue, looking at me with an expression that, for the briefest second, looks hollow and sad. “I’m not going home tonight, Dimitri. I’m going to wherever you live.”

Of course. It was a slip on my part, and one that I need to watch, just like I need to shove that feeling of not wanting to lose her away and lock it up tight. My home isn’t hers. It won’t ever be. It’s just a place where she’ll live until our deal is done.

I let out a heavy breath. “Let’s get back to the reception. We’ll finish out the evening, play the good hosts for a little while, and then we’ll leave.”

Evelyn hesitates, and for a moment I think she’s going to say no. That she’s going to tell me she’s changed her mind. That she wants an annulment. And then, with a gesture that makes me feel more relief than it should, she nods.

“Alright.”

She takes my arm, and we head back to the reception. We drink a little more champagne, and talk to guests, and make it through the night, until it’s time to leave and we walk out to the waiting car. Evelyn is stiff and tense, and I don’t have to pretend that I don’t know why.

“I’ll stick to our agreement,” I tell her quietly. “Nothing will happen between us tonight.”

She licks her lips nervously, but nods, turning to look out of the window as the city rolls by, dark except for the twinkling of holiday decorations and the warm lights of the businesses still open at this hour. The car takes us to the Upper East Side, where it pulls up in front of a high rise and I hear Evelyn swallow audibly.

“I wondered where we’d end up going,” she says softly.

“My family has a mansion outside the city. But I want you around my father as little as possible, and I thought you would probably feel the same. So I decided to bring you here, instead. It’s just the two of us.”

I realize too late that might not be as reassuring as it sounded in my head, and amend, “and my security, as well.”

“Of course.” Evelyn gathers up her skirt, sliding out behind me as the driver opens the door for us. He starts to hand me her overnight bag, since her things will be delivered tomorrow, but Evelyn reaches out between us before I can take it, grabbing it herself. “I’ve got it,” she says tightly, and the driver looks at me nervously, uncertain of what to do. No wife of a man in my position should carry her own bag, and I can tell he’s afraid he’ll be blamed for letting her take it. But he doesn’t know Evelyn, and I have no doubt she’d stand her ground right here if I tried to take it back.

It’s a small thing to allow her, I decide, since I know she must feel that a lot is out of her control right now. Not least of which, where she’s going to live for the time being.

I lead her into the gleaming black and gold lobby of the building, touching the small of her back lightly as I guide her towards the elevator at the back, nodding at the doorman as we pass by. Her heels click against the black tiled floor, and I can’t shake the feeling that I’m waiting for her to make a break for it at any minute. She follows me to the elevator, and I catch a glimpse of her reflection in one mirrored wall, her face pale despite her makeup. Her fingers are tugging at the feathers of her skirt again, and I can see her pulse fluttering in the hollow of her throat.

It takes everything in me not to close the space between us, and press my lips to that spot.

I slide my black key card into the penthouse slot, and we stand there in silence as the elevator takes us all the way up.Evelyn is completely silent as the doors open and we step out into the private hall, and I unlock the front door.

“Welcome to my home,” I tell her, as we both step inside.

I see her stand there for a long moment, taking it all in. The first floor is open-concept, with three of the walls floor-to-ceiling glass, looking out over the balcony at one side and the city beyond. The furniture is arranged around the room, a thick rug in the center of it, and towards the back is the large, open kitchen with black appliances and brass fixtures. “There’s a door that leads to the entertainment room back there,” I tell her, gesturing. “And the downstairs bathroom. If you go out to the balcony and take the stairs up, it’ll lead you to the rooftop pool and hot tub. And that staircase—” I gesture towards the black iron, spiraling staircase that leads up to the next floor. “That leads to the bedroom.”