Page 53 of Her Cruel Empire
“Go?” Startled, I stand with him. “You just got here!”
“It was a flying visit,” he says apologetically. “A stopover on my way through. The plane is waiting for me at the airfield. Is Leon around? Perhaps he can take me over. I’d like to catch up with him, too.”
“Of course,” I say, pushing aside my melancholy. I signal to a nearby maid, who runs off at once in search of Leon. He lives on the grounds in his own cottage. “I know he would like to see you, too. But we’ve barely had a chance to catch up ourselves. How’s Dimitri?”
Uncle Stefan smiles, even though my cousin Dimitri has always been something of a black sheep in the family. Dimi is more of a wastrel than a weapons expert, but we all love him dearly.
“He’s in Paris, having an ill-advised affair. If you go, you could see him while you’re there.”
I give a knowing smile. “I have picked up on your subtle urgings, Uncle. I will go to Paris.”
“I’m glad,” he says sincerely. “And Dimi will be glad to see you, too.” His smile is warm but pointed. “Perhaps you can talk him into settling down. You might think about it, too. This life…it’s easier when you have something to come home to.”
The suggestion makes me bristle, though I’m careful not to let it show. I don’t need an anchor weighing me down. I don’t need anything soft or domestic cluttering up my existence. I’m not interested in that kind of weakness.
But before I can respond to Stefan’s loaded observation, he’s kissing my cheeks and striding over to meet Leon, who has come up from his cottage. I see them off, and then I stand in the doorway long after the elevator doors close, his words echoing in my head.
It’s easier when you have something to come home to.
Ridiculous. Robin is a transaction. A temporary pleasure. A distraction from the weight of responsibility that sits on my shoulders every day.
But as I go back into the Great Hall, my eyes land on the couch where she sat earlier, and I think about going up to her room, giving her an unnecessary apology told in pleasure and climax rather than words.
No. Business comes first. The Novak Consortium’s dominance in Europe can’t be allowed to slip because I’m distracted by a soft American girl with trusting eyes and responsive skin. I need to make plans for Paris.
Robin, and my hunger for her, is far down the list of priorities. I need to remember that.
Chapter 19
Robin
The sound of rustling fabric jerks me from sleep.
I blink, disoriented, and find a woman I don’t recognize folding clothes into a Louis Vuitton suitcase. She moves quickly and quietly as she tucks my few belongings into the expensive leather case.
“What are you doing?” I sit up, my voice rough with sleep.
She doesn’t answer. Instead, she murmurs something in her language, the only word I catch: “Novak.”
“Eva?” I hazard, my heart picking up speed.
The woman gestures vaguely toward the door, as if to sayask her yourself, then continues packing. The sight of my clothes disappearing into that case makes my stomach twist with uncertainty.
The door swings open without a knock, and Eva sweeps in. She’s already dressed—impeccably, as always—in a charcoal suit and those soaring stilettos she favors. Her presence fills the room instantly.
I didn’t see her again yesterday. I went looking for her, even; crept up to the door of her study, but I was too afraid to knock. What if it was the ice queen behind that door, rather than the seductive force of nature I’ve started to crave?
My ego just couldn’t take another annoyed dismissal, and so I crept away again, and even asked for dinner in my room. I figured I would stay where she could find me easily, if she needed me.
If she wanted me.
But apparently she hadn’t, because eventually I went to bed, and now it’s morning, and Eva is clearly dressed for business. My heart sinks.
“Good. You’re awake.” Her amber eyes rake over me, taking in my rumpled hair and the way I’m clutching the sheet to my chest.
“Are you going away again?” I ask tentatively.
“Yes.”
