Page 49 of The Russian's Kidnapped Bride
She had a warmth about her when she spoke to Elena and Victoria, and selfishly, I want to feel it directed at me.
I want the fire I saw in her when she first held that pistol, and turned out to be a better shot than I expected. I want the softness of her body willingly against mine. And I want to know this isn’t a complete disaster.
But now she’s acting as hard and blank as stone again.
Pulling in a discreet breath, I cut more of my steak and glance over at her, trying to pretend like I’m not irritated. “How were your classes?”
Finally lifting her gaze to look at me, she blinks like she’s surprised I even asked. Then, it vanishes just as quickly as it appeared.
“They were fine,” she says simply, lacking any real enthusiasm. The response is noncommittal at best.
That’s it. No further details—not the lectures she enjoyed, what professors she does and doesn’t like, and nothing else about her security detail, surely hanging around like a specter throughout the day. She doesn’t paint me a picture in the slightest.
Keeping my irritation in check, I exhale slowly. “What kind of medicine are you hoping to get into?”
“Emergency,” she murmurs, making more of an effort to push her food around. “Likely trauma.”
I lift a brow at that, crossing my arms while I lean back in my chair. Interesting.
“That’s a busy role. You must like chaos more than you let on.”
Something I don’t recognize and can’t quite decipher moves through her eyes, followed by a subtle glare at my accusation. “I want to help people when they need it most.”
While it’s still a subtle answer, it’s honest, and it makes me pause. If even for a flicker of time, she’s showing me a glimpse of her. Raw and real. Exactly what I’ve been searching for.
“If you’ve managed to keep your cool with me so far, then I’m sure you’ll do just fine with higher stakes,” I say, hoping to ease some of that lingering cold between us. “It’s a respectable career.”
Her eyes narrow at me slightly. “It’s anhonestone.”
That’s a dig at my work…well played.
I let my lips pull slightly without looking away from her. “You’re right. It is.”
While her gaze lingers on me in return, she looks skeptical, almost like she’s trying to gauge any ulterior motives behind my attempts at making sincere conversation with her. Then, she asks quietly, “Why are you being nice?”
“I’m always nice.”
Lily gives me a pointed look, immediately calling me out on my bullshit. My smirk widens slightly.
“Fine, I’m not always on my best behavior, but I’m not playing games with you. I’m just trying to talk.”
Despite my harmless claim, her jaw tightens. “After everything, you want to talk now?”
“Yes.”
Her skepticism flares. “Why?”
Staring at her, as if it should be obvious, I push my plate aside and bring my fingers together in front of myself. “Because we’re married, Lily. Because you’re living here now, and you’re not just a one-night stand anymore. I’d rather not treat you like one.”
“You made me marry you,” she returns sharply, showing no signs of giving that up.
“As I said before, I gave you a choice.”
“No, you didn’t,” she utters, brows pulled together as she sets her fork down gracelessly. “You strong-armed me into doing what you wanted. My other option was near-torture.”
I don’t expect it to, but the claim hits me hard.
She isn’t entirely wrong, but still, it’s not like she’s actually being tortured. A secret third option existed all along, but I never put that in front of her. I wouldn’t let it happen.
