Page 17 of Bloody Vows
"Don't call me that. Don’t call me anything." Her voice is sharp, cutting. "And I know exactly how this works. What I don't understand is why you'd want to marry someone who's being forced into it. What kind of man wants a wife who hates him?"
"I want your territory.” I smile at her. "The Russo empire, the businesses, the connections, the money. All of it. Your father built something impressive, and now it's mine for the taking."
Her eyes flash with fury. "Last night, you said you wanted me. Graphically."
I let my gaze travel over her again, slower this time, taking in every curve, every line of her body. "You're a very nice bonus."
She’s more than a bonus, truthfully. She’s a prize, a jewel, a trophy in every conceivable way. But I want her to fight back.One day in, and I’m already beginning to crave this back-and-forth between us, the way she spits fire at me and I throw it back. Iwantto piss her off, I realize, because it fucking turns me on when she’s angry.
I like it when she fights me.
For a moment, I think she might actually launch herself at me, might try to claw my eyes out, and the thought sends another wave of heat through me.
"You bastard," she breathes.
"Probably," I agree. "But I'm the bastard who's going to keep you alive and keep your father's empire intact. That has to count for something."
"It counts for nothing." She moves around the desk, coming closer, and I catch a hint of her perfume, something that smells like roses and salt, like a garden at the edge of the sea. It makes me want to bury my face in her neck. "You think you can just walk in here and take everything that's mine? You think I'm going to smile and play the grateful little wife while you steal my inheritance?"
I smirk, moving closer to her, using the advantage of my height to loom over her. She's tall for a woman, but I still have several inches on her, and I can see the way her breath catches when I move into her space. "I think you're going to do whatever Konstantin tells you to do, because the alternative is death. And I think you're smart enough to know that."
She tilts her head back to look at me, and I can see the pulse beating rapidly at the base of her throat. She's afraid, but she's not backing down. If anything, my proximity seems to make her more defiant, just like last night. I hope that never fucking changes.
"I could refuse," she hisses. "I could tell Konstantin to go to hell and take my chances."
"You could." I reach out and touch her cheek, just a brief brush of my fingers against her skin, and I feel her shiver. Her skin is like silk, impossibly soft against my fingertips, and my cock twitches at the sensation. "But you won't. Because you're not stupid, and you're not ready to die."
She jerks away from my touch like I've burned her. "Don't touch me."
"I'm going to be your husband, Simone. I'm going to touch you whenever I want."
The color drains from her face, and for the first time since I walked into this room, she looks truly shaken. "This isn't real. This whole thing—it's just business. It doesn't have to be… personal."
"Everything about marriage is personal." I step closer again, backing her against the desk. "Especially the parts that happen in the bedroom,” I add, enjoying her proximity, the way her chest rises and falls with her every quick breath. “And I’m very much looking forward to having you in my bedroom, Simone.”
She presses her hands against my chest, trying to push me away, but I don't budge. "I won't be your whore."
"No," I agree. "You'll be my wife. There's a difference."
"Is there?"
"We'll find out." I reach up, pushing a piece of hair away from her cheek, and she jerks away from me, her eyes spitting fire.
The office door opens before she can respond, and Konstantin walks back in, followed by my father. Simone immediately moves away from me, putting distance between us, but I can see that her hands are trembling.
Good. I want her affected by me. I want her to have to admit that she’s not impervious to the way I can make her feel.
"Have you had enough time to discuss the arrangement?" Konstantin asks, looking between us.
"We've discussed it." I shrug casually, as if we were just talking business all this time. "I'm satisfied with the terms."
Konstantin turns to Simone. "And you?"
She's quiet for a long moment, and I can practically see the wheels turning in her head. She's weighing her options, considering her alternatives, trying to find some way out of this that doesn't end with her death.
She swallows hard and looks at Konstantin, not at me. It’s a calculated move, and it sends a jolt of anger through me, a possessive flare that makes me want to press my thumbs into his eyeballs for looking at her.
It’s a dangerous feeling. Konstantin is not a man to be fucked with. Butfuckif I don’t want her to give her answer to me, instead.
