Page 67 of Bloody Lace

For the first time in my life, as I look at her lying there, I want to tell her that that’s okay. That I want anything other than casual with her. That I wanther, and that I want to change the terms of our marriage. That I don’t want a divorce.

But love is deadly. It makes men weak. And with her in more danger than ever, weakness is the last thing I can afford.

“Alright,” I murmur quietly, and reach up to undo her hands.

24

EVELYN

If there’s one thing that I know for certain, it’s that I have to regain some control in my marriage with Dimitri. If letting him fuck me in the ass proved anything, it’s that my desire for him is breaking down all my defenses. What started out as a fight turned into some of the best sex of my life—and theotherbest sex of my life was with him, too.

It’s not unthinkable that he does this to me. He’s gorgeous, infuriatingly frustrating and sexy all at the same time, a man in control of everything around him except his desire for me. That in and of itself is intoxicating, but there’s other things about him too, the things that make me worried that if I let this go on, I’ll fall for him irrevocably. His protectiveness, his strength, his confidence—all of it is getting under my skin, making me want him, and making me want toknowhim, too.

That’s more dangerous than lust. But I’ve never been good at separating the two, and I can’t imagine that I’ll start with him, a man who affects me in ways that no one else ever has.

The only recourse I have is to try to avoid him as much as possible. It’s difficult, even in a penthouse this size, but Dimtri seems to have the same idea. When he undoes the belt, lettingme go, I scuttle off of the bed and into the bathroom, drawing a hot bath and lingering in it long after I hear the sounds of him going downstairs. When I finally venture down, the door to his office is closed, and it stays that way until after I’ve gone up to bed.

For the next few days, I do everything in my power to put distance between us. He always wakes up before me, and I avoid even going near his office, instead taking Buttons and Gus as soon as I’ve had breakfast and coffee and going to oversee the shop renovations. With all of the debris cleared out from the fire, and the repairs to the structure all but finished, I’m able to start working on wallpaper and paint in some sections, while builders start to add back in the front counter and other parts of the interior that were destroyed before. The fact that it was left a shell, while devastating, offered new opportunities with Dimitri’s money funding the renovations, and I’ve basically been able to recreate a new, ideal floor plan inside, different from what I was stuck with when I originally got the place.

As heartbreaking as losing the original shop was, it’s exciting to make the space all my own, exactly as I would have wanted it if it were built from scratch. Dimitri has made it clear that money is no object, and that I should spend as much of it as I want, and I refuse to feel guilty about it. Dahlia is more than encouraging of that, when she comes by after work one evening while I’m putting up wallpaper striped in dark and sage green.

“This is going to be stunning when it’s finished,” she says, turning in a circle as she looks around the main room. “I can definitely see the vision. Are you putting the consultation area in there?” She points to one corner of the large main area, where some boxes have been staged as a way to visualize where furniture might go.

I nod. “It used to be in that small room, because the way the floor plan was set up, there wasn’t enough space out here. Butnow that I can make this outer room larger, I like the idea of having consultations here. There’s more space, and it’s brighter. The light is so much better, and being able to see the view of the city outside feels like it really elevates the mood of the space. I’m still going to have a back room, besides the storage room, but I’m going to use it as a break room and kitchenette. So I can have tea, coffee, things like that during consults.”

Dahlia grins. “It sounds like you have it all set up. You’re good at this, Evelyn. It’s not often artists are also good at running the business side of things, but you’ve got both down pat.”

“Thanks.” I return the smile. “It’s good to have something to throw myself into again.”

“Speaking of—” Her smile turns mischievous. “How’s married life?”

I groan. There’s a lot that I haven’t told Dahlia, largely because I know what her reaction would be. I also don’t want to tell her that Dimitri and I have crossed the line physically, because while I’dloveto gossip about it, I know she won’t encourage me to stop. Dahlia has always been good at keeping sex casual, and she’s never understood how I manage to tie myself up in knots over men that have been nothing but disappointing.

“That bad, huh?” She tucks a piece of blonde hair behind her ear, still smirking at me.

“We fight a lot.” I press my lips together. “He’s used to being in control, I think. And I’m stubborn. You know that. So?—”

“In control, hm?” Her eyes twinkle, and I desperately hope that the heat I can feel just under the collar of my sweater doesn’t creep up my neck. Dahlia knows me too well, and if I look even the slightest bit guilty, she’ll jump on it instantly. “Angry sex can be hot.”

“I told you, I put it in the contract that there’s no sex.” An evasion, but not a lie. I feel like I’ve been doing a lot of that lately, far more than I ever did before I met Dimitri. “It’s just…not a good idea.”

“Because you’ll get attached.” Dahlia blows out a breath. “You’re stronger than I am. I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off of a man like that, if I were sleeping in the same bed with him.”

“Hey. That’s my husband you’re talking about.” It’s meant to be a lackluster joke, but a tingle runs over my skin at the wordhusband. I never really imagined myself getting married, all of my attention and focus taken up by the shop. And now I’ve gotten married in the strangest way possible, with the promise of divorce baked into the pre-nup.

Thinking of Dimitri as my husband makes my stomach tighten into knots and my chest ache in a way that I don’t want to think too hard about, and I shove the thought away. Dahlia is looking at me curiously when I refocus on her, and I clear my throat, hoping that everything in my mind isn’t showing on my face.

“You looked like you went somewhere else for a minute, there.”

“Well, there’s a lot to think about.” I wave a hand around the shop, as if that’s what’s taking up all the space in my head. “I want this place to be perfect. This is my one chance to do it exactly how I would want. No limitations, nothing other than what I can dream up. So I don’t want to let that chance go to waste.”

“You won’t,” Dahlia says confidently. “You’re already off to a great start. Are you and Dimitri coming to the Met party this year?”

The abrupt change in topic throws me off balance for a moment. I hadn’t even thought about the Met party, whichmakes me feel guilty, since it’s a huge event at the place where Dahlia works. It’s also where Dimitri and I briefly met for the first time, and the thought of going with him makes my stomach squirm uncomfortably. The significance of going again together isn’t lost on me, and it won’t be on him, either.

But I can’t go alone, or with Dahlia this year, like I did last time. If I decide to go, I know Dimitri will insist on coming with me. In fact, I’m not at all sure that it isn’t on his list of holiday parties that we’re expected to attend.

“My dress this year isn’t nearly as good,” Dahlia laments. “But I’m not getting an award, so it’s fine. And it’s not your fault, of course. But there’s nothing like wearing something you’ve created for me.”

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