Page 70 of Wicked Proposal
“Your contract.” Yulian’s voice is cold, businesslike. “Amended, like you wanted.”
You mean likeyouwanted, too.It’s uncanny how quickly he’s managed to forget half of these changes came from him.
I take the contract. It’s weightless, which is appropriate. It’s like Yulian said: One wrong move, and he’ll tear it up.
Only one of us is truly protected by it.
“Here.” Yulian passes me a pen. “In case you actually don’t own one.”
You swore an oath, Mia. Hippocrates would be really upset with you, Mia. You can’t punch the cocky Russian asshole who pays for your son’s schooling, Mia.
Swallowing back my anger, I take the pen. I also don’t stab him with it, which I count as my good deed of the day.
My teeth have been gritting nonstop since I’ve met Yulian Lozhkin—it’ll be a miracle if I’ll be able to eat anything other than soup by the time these six months are up.
But fine. With his million, I can pay for a damn dentist, too.
I scrawl a signature on the papers and hand them back to him. “Here,” I say. “All done.”
I try not to flinch when his hand grazes mine. Try not to shiver, either.
His closeness drives me crazier than his attitude. If I’m going to survive this, I’ll need to learn how to deal with it.
But that’s not going to happen tonight.
Because, the second the car stops, Yulian offers me his arm. “Shall we?”
Deep breaths, Mia. You can do this.You can survive one night with the devil.
And then another, and another, and another.
“Yeah,” I say. “Let’s go.”
I take his arm. I let him lead me through two heavy, gilded doors, the wordGOLDENRODgleaming on top in a golden arch.
I let him shepherd me through a luxurious lounge, all marble floors and chandeliers and glassware that’s worth more than all my organs.
I let him pretend I belong here, but I don’t.
“Relax,” he whispers. “You’re with me, remember?”
You belong wherever you decide you belong,kotyonok.Yulian’s words on that first, fateful night linger in my mind, warm and soothing.Most importantly, whereIdecide.
So I take a deep breath and try to act like it. Like I was born for this. Like this is all I’ve known all my life.
Like I’m the future Mrs. Lozhkin.
And then, out of the blue, a hand slaps my ass.
22
YULIAN
I feel Mia freeze.
Then I see why.
A hand.
