Page 20 of Sold to the Russian
He was dangerous, sick in the head, and she couldn’t even bring herself to imagine the kind of atrocities he may have committed in the past with those large, calloused, tattooed hands of his. The kind of atrocities he was presently committing, even by standing here with her. The kind he’d commit in the future.
And yet, he was her husband.
Maeve was torn between screaming and ripping her hair out. The hatred she harbored for him was a fully formed thingthat festered deep in her loins. But she couldn’t deny the caution she felt each time he neared her. The queasiness in her belly whenever she stared into the icy blue madness of his eyes. The fear that tingled her spine when he was near, fear that there was a chance he could snap and actually kill her.
Though with every passing second, she was beginning to doubt he would actually rip her life from her. He seemed crazed with the idea that they were married, that she was his wife, that he had a right to her. He seemed too fascinated with the idea of having her in his grasp to entertain the thought of killing her.
She wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or endangered by it.
Maeve inhaled a deep breath, turned on her heel, and faced him with a blank stare. “It’s ugly.”
Fedya was watching her with an intensity that crawled up her spine. “Unfit for the magnitude of your beauty, yes,” he said with a nod. His compliment was like a lash to the skin. “But we’ll have to make do for now.”
“For now,” Maeve reiterated, looking him over. Pieces of clues were starting to click into place in her head. “If you are a Nikolai as you claim, why have you brought me here? I’m aware the entire family resides in the estate.”
He just kept staring at her without saying a word. It was like he was waiting for her to arrive at her own version of what was truly going on.
“Unless,” she said, narrowing her eyes at his frame, “they don’t know about this. They don’t know you’ve married me. That’s why we’re here, isn’t it? Because I’m your dirty little secret from an operation gone wrong?”
At that, he smiled wickedly, and Maeve refused to acknowledge how dazzling it made him look, how it threatened to weaken her knees.
He nodded more to himself than to her. His voice was like smoke. “You’re smart. I really like that.”
Maeve straightened, internally appalled by the flutter she felt in her stomach from his approval. “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why have you gone behind your family’s backs to do something like this?”
“I’m a man, Maeve,” he said, every trace of humor gone from his face. “I can make my own decisions. I can take responsibility for my own actions, and that’s why you’re here right now. Because you’re my responsibility.”
“And then what?” she asked, clenching her teeth. “Now that you’ve kidnapped me and brought me to the middle of bumfuck nowhere, what happens next? Am I going to spend the rest of my life being your prisoner?”
“I’m pleased that you’re thinking of our future together already, Maeve,” he said, pushing himself off the door. He walked towards her, and she retreated back until the back of her legs hit the foot of the bed. She staggered but didn’t fall.
“But I like to take things one step at a time,” he said, halting only when his toes touched hers. With each heavy breath she took, her breasts grazed his chest, and she almost willed herself to stop breathing.
Fedya frowned, shaking his head in disapproval. “Oh, come on, Maeve. Don’t suddenly act like you’re scared of me.”
“I’m not scared of you,” she said, her voice tight even though at that very moment, she felt differently.
“You shouldn’t,” he responded. He nodded at the bed behind her. “Rest. Take a shower and join me for dinner.”
“I’m not sharing this room with you,” she said defiantly, curling her hands into fists by her sides. His eyes moved from her face to her fists, lingering on her whitened knuckles.
“That’s okay,” he nodded, and Maeve was surprised he hadn’t argued with her about it. “Like I said, I’ll make you learn to need me. I’ll let you have your space for now.”
There he was, using those two threatening words again.
Maeve’s temper peaked. Her voice was a lethal spit. “Get out.”
He was a wall of steel in front of her, his jaw twitching slightly at her tone. It was clear he didn’t tolerate any form of bossing around, any form of blatant disrespect. And she’d been walking that thin line since he showed up earlier today.
Maeve managed to go around him, her steps hard against the hardwood floor as she forced the door open. Her fingers tightened around the doorknob. “Get the fuck out.”
Maeve’s eyes burned as she waited for him to turn around. Her vile, volatile emotions had reached their limit, and she wasn’t sure how much longer she could hold herself together. She didn’t want to cry in front of him, so she needed him to leave as soon as possible.
With a reluctant sigh and his hands still in his pockets, Fedya turned around and nodded. “As you wish, my love.”
