Page 62 of Jewel of the Assassin
“Now, be off with you. I’m concocting greatness,” he finalizes.
Valentina darts in before I can stop her, as if pulled by the scent of hollandaise simmering in a small copper pot. She dips a finger in before anyone notices and gives it a playful taste.
Her brow quirks. “Hmm. Could use a touch more salt.”
Emilian spins, scandalized. “Out! No! You cannot just—this is sacred!” He waves a ladle. “I’ll fetch the paddle!”
She giggles. “Is that supposed to be a threat?”
“OUT!” Emilian bellows, red-faced and flustered. The rest of the kitchen staff is biting back laughter.
I grab Valentina by the waist and pull her out just in time before he throws the ladle like a cleaver. Once we’re safely in the hallway, I spin her and deliver a firm smack to her ass.
She yelps, glaring at me with sparkling eyes.
“I’ll allow your harmless flirting with my staff, Valya,” I murmur, fingers squeezing the soft swell of her bottom. “And I’ll tolerate your subtle dark references toshagging, especially when it comes to Zina and Mikhail.”
Her smile stretches, wicked and sweet.
“But such things like paddles…” I tighten my grip until she shudders, “and other instruments of discipline are mine. And minealoneto wield on your lovely bottom.”
She winks. “Only on my bottom?”
My voice drops to a dark threat. “You keep this up, Moya Koroleva, and I’ll take you to the nearest room, bend you over a table, and spank you raw—staff or no staff to witness.”
Her breath hitches. Her cheeks flush the color of ripe cherries. But she smartly presses her lips together.
“Horosho devochka,” I whisper—good girl—and kiss the shell of her ear.
I take her down a stone staircase to the cellar wing. The cool, earthy scent of wood, citrus peels, and faintly fermented herbs greets us. She gasps when we step into the spirits’ room.
Large glass barrels glisten with hues of violet, gold, and blush rose. Copper pipes twist like serpents around the ceiling. A still in the corner bubbles gently, manned by none other than Levka—my most eccentric employee and proud self-proclaimed “Spirit Lord.”
His red curls are a wild mess. He wears a worn blue sweater with thumb holes and a constellation of burn spots. Even from here, I can tell his pupils are still slightly dilated.
Levka sees us and flourishes a ridiculous, sweeping bow. “Your Ladyship,” he purrs, lifting Valentina’s hand and pressing a kiss toher knuckles. “Even the mushrooms warned me someone divine would enter my domain today.”
Valentina snorts, eyes dancing. “Are you high?”
He narrows his eyes in mock offense. “Only if the day ends in “Y”. I’m slaving over the newest batch ofLovers Vodka.A muse was required.”
“A hallucinogenic muse?” she teases.
“The best kind.” He twirls and gestures to one of the vats. “This batch tastes like heartbreak with a happy ending.”
“I’m intrigued,” she says, resting her hand on my arm.
“One moment.”
Levka takes two shot glasses and fills them with the sample. He slides one toward me, the other toward Valentina, with a wink. “For quality assurance.”
Valentina arches a brow. “Is this safe?”
“Safer than most marriages.” He grins.
“Um…” She bites her lower lip and stares at me.
My jaw ticks. My cock stirs at the not-so-subtle implication in her twinkling eyes. That playful defiance.
