Page 102 of Ruins
Pulling back, I rest my forehead against hers, breathing her in.
“May I have it?” I murmur, my voice rough, still inches from her mouth.
Her eyes flutter open, dazed. Confused. Wanting.
“Have what?” she whispers, her gaze dropping to my lips.
I step back—before I take more than I should—and turn to the painting.
“May I have the painting when you’re done?”
She blinks, still trying to process what I’ve just asked. “You want me to gift it to you?”
“I could buy it if you’d like.”
Her lips twitch, amusement flickering in her expression as she traces the edges of the canvas.
“Where would you put it?”
I don’t hesitate. “In my office.”
She tilts her head, considering, a shy smile playing on her lips. “Next to the Monet? I don’t think so.”
She giggles. And fuck—the sound grips something inside me, twisting it tight.
“Why not? You’re just as talented.”
I slip my hands into my pockets, fighting the urge to pull her back into me.
“I am not,” she huffs, still smiling, still intoxicating. “But I’ll still give you the painting.”
Her tongue swipes across her bottom lip, and I know I need to leave before I kiss her again.
I nod, stepping back. Creating space.
“Dinner is in twenty minutes. I’ll take mine in the office.”
She frowns, confused, searching my face, but doesn’t push. Instead, she simply nods.
I make it to the door before pausing, glancing over my shoulder.
“Tomorrow morning, my men will be here.” My eyes flick to the hint of lace peeking from her blouse, the teasing dip of her neckline.
A smirk tugs at my lips. “Try to wear something more... appropriate.”
Her cheeks flush. She chuckles, nervous, but she nods.
And before I can stop myself, before I can do something reckless, I steal one last look at her.
Then I shut the door behind me and head to my office—where I can be alone with my thoughts of her.
Chapter 21
Vasilisa
Thehouseisaflurry of activity in the morning, just like Santo said it would be. Men move with quiet efficiency—nods replacing greetings, eye contact kept to a minimum. The tension is thick, the air humming with unspoken rules.
I try to play the part of the perfect wife, but every room I step into empties just as quickly.
