Page 152 of Gloves Off

He shrugs. “Ten? Twenty? I’m not sure.”

“Ten ortwenty?” My eyes bug out of my head. “Alexei, this is going to be a ton of work. You should have it catered. Or have everyone bring a dish, potluck style.”

“I’ll do everything,” he adds, off whatever he sees in my expression. “I’ll get all the food, I’ll cook, I’ll clean up. It would be nice if you were there and doing your…” He waves a hand noncommittally at me. “You know.”

“My what?”

“Smiling. Laughing. Charming everyone.”

“You think I’m charming?” I’m smiling now.

“More than me, that’s for sure.”

“Oh my god.” I brighten. “Think of how many people I could get to lick the crystal.”

He makes a horrified noise. “That’s disgusting. You should have your medical license taken away.”

My laugh comes out loud and bold, and something warm flashes in his eyes. “Just admit you licked the crystal, Alexei. You think I haven’t noticed the string of good luck you’ve had since I moved in?”

He doesn’t answer, just swallows and watches me, mouth starting to curve up like mine is, dark eyes moving over me with pleasure.

My heart flops over in my chest. He really is handsome.

I glance at my nails. “I’ll be there, and I’ll be my delightful, charming self. No promises about not forcing people to lick the rock, though.”

That night, I get home from work well after dinner. There’s a container of pasta in the fridge with a sticky note on top.Eat it,written in tight, scratchy writing. I sit at the bar counter, devouring thepenne arrabbiata while answering emails on my phone, listening for any noise in the silent house. He’s an incredible cook, I realize, as I polish the food off. After, I play with the bunnies for a few minutes in the front room, which they seem to have staked out astheirroom now, and when I can’t stall anymore, I head upstairs.

My bed is gone from my room. No surprise there, but my heart still does whirly loops.

In his room, the light’s on but he’s asleep, chest rising and falling, a peaceful, relaxed expression on his face. E-reader flat against his bare chest. Wedding ring glinting on his finger in the low light.

I glance down at my own hand, at the ugly ring that’s growing on me. How extremelymarriedof me, gazing at my husband while he sleeps in the bed we now share.

I undress, pull on the lacy sleep romper I grabbed from my room, and slide into bed beside him. He bought it, I’m sure he’ll enjoy waking up to it. Still asleep, his arms come around me like an instinct.

“Georgia?”

“I’m here,” I say quietly, reaching for the light, and he relaxes, tucking me into him.

I lie there in the dark, his heart beating against my back, his warmth and his scent surrounding me.

I don’t know what we’re doing. I don’t know what any of this means anymore. We’re going to get divorced. Neither of us are cut out for marriage. This isn’t detached, though. Thisthingwe’re doing is quickly becoming more than an arrangement.

And yet, I can’t stop.

CHAPTER 71

GEORGIA

On Saturday,I wake to Alexei setting a coffee on my bedside table. I squint at him in the morning light, wearing a dark green T-shirt and those athletic joggers he looks so good in.

“Drink your coffee, lionhead. We’ve got a busy day.”

“You’re wearing too many clothes.”

His eyes darken, trailing over me in bed, before he lets out an impatient sigh.

“I can’t. I have too much to do and if we start something, we’ll still be up here when people start knocking on the front door. Besides, you’ve got a massage in an hour.” He starts making the bed.

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