“Really, I’m not—”
“Eat.”
“Fine!” I pushed the tines of the fork through the scrambled eggs. “Why are you hiring a decorator?” I braced for his response, already knowing the answer.
“I wouldn’t expect you to live in a home you don’t like. I know you don’t like all the white, so we’ll change it.”
My stomach twisted as the bite of egg turned to dust in my mouth. “Vaska, we need to talk.”
His eyes narrowed. “No. We don’t. I’ve already told you. My decision is final. You live here with me now.”
“We barely know one another.”
He shrugged. “I know enough.”
“Enough for what?”
“Enough to know I want you by my side.”
“Yes, but for how long? You expect me to uproot my entire life for some fling?”
With an angry growl, he rounded the island and spun my stool to face him, pinning me against the marble edge. He leaned his palms on the island countertop, caging me in. “I’m losing patience with you, Mary. If you continue to deny me, and deny what we have, I’m going to get angry. Trust me, you don’t want to see me angry.”
My body froze as all the blood drained from my veins. I swallowed but could think of nothing to say.
He ran his knuckles down my cheek, before trailing his fingertips over the rapid pulse at the base of my throat. “This isn’t a fling, Mary. I’ve made my intentions clear.”
I licked my lips. “Are you saying you want to marry me?”
He smiled. “I’m saying I am marrying you.”
It was a sharp left turn that left me dizzy. To go from assuming this man was a one-night stand player who would love me and leave me to hear him talking not just a long-term relationship but marriage. Turns out he was no different than his friend, Dimitri. I wonder if all Russian men were as stubborn and decisive when it came to the women they wanted?
Despite the chaotic emotions his nearness was causing, I pressed on. “Do I get a say in any of this?”
He pushed a lock of hair behind my ear. “Of course. You get to pick out your dress and the flowers.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I know.” His lips thinned. “But answering the question you really asked would only anger me.” He kissed me hard on the lips and walked away as he tossed over his shoulder, “I have a meeting. Eat your breakfast. Your clothes are already in the closet. A driver is waiting to take you wherever you want to go.”
I hopped off the stool and followed him into the bedroom. “What about the apartment I already rented in Lincoln Square?”
“I’ve taken care of it.”
My fists went to my hips. “What is that supposed to mean?”
He opened the double doors to a massive walk-in closet. It was so big that each side contained a bureau and two floor-to-ceiling mirrors. To the right were rack after rack of black and gray suits. To the left, hanging just as neatly, were all of my clothes.
He pulled a cable-knit charcoal gray sweater from a hanger and tossed it on. I was pissed at my momentary disappointment as he covered his muscles and tattoos.
He opened a drawer and chose a pair of socks. “It means your landlord and I have come to an understanding. You no longer have a lease with him. Your security deposit is back in your account.”
“You canceled my lease?”
“You cannot think I would let you live in that fucking tiny, moldy basement apartment?”
I huffed as I crossed my arms over my chest. “I’m sorry! Not all of us are blessed with endless riches. People like me have student loans and bills to pay. We can’t afford high-rise penthouses.”
After tying on a pair of boots, he lifted the lid on a beautiful mahogany watch case and selected one of the uber-expensive-looking watches, which were slowly rotating like spinning dials. “That is not true.”
“What is not true?”
He turned to me as he latched the watch around his wrist. There was just something so sexy about seeing a man’s strong hand and thick wrist with a watch on it. It was just so old-school gentleman in a good way. Like he was the type of man who opened doors and ordered for you at restaurants, which, of course, described Vaska perfectly. He responded matter-of-factly, “You are not one of those people, because you no longer have any student loans or bills to pay. I have taken care of all of it.”
His heavy Russian accent made his statement sound even more ominous. He had paid off all my student loans? Just like that? It was close to a hundred thousand dollars between college and graduate school. More gold bars slammed down around me. “Do you expect me to be okay with being your kept mistress, earning my keep on my—”
The movie Pretty Woman had definitely steered an entire generation of women wrong. That movie made it seem like it was sexy and fun to have a handsome crazy-rich man shower you with money and gifts in exchange for some companionship. It wasn’t. Not even the tiniest bit. It was terrifying. My entire life was now in the palm of his hand. At any moment he could clench his fist and destroy me.
Vaska stepped toward me. He wrapped his hand around my neck and pulled me close. His voice was soft and low, but no less threatening. “Do not finish that sentence. I expect to treat you like my future wife.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, hating that several tears fell onto my cheeks. “Vaska, this is all too much. I can’t deal with all—”
He swiped at the tears with his thumb before kissing me on the forehead. “Shhh, krasotka. Don’t cry. You must understand, I’m doing this for your own safety as well as for us. It is better if you are fully under my protection.”
“Yes, but—”
He leaned down to gaze into my eyes. “The money is no matter to me. Let me spoil you.”
I wrapped my hands around his wrists as he continued to caress my cheeks. “This is moving too fast. I can’t think.”
“I know. Take this first step. Stay with me. Be with me. We’ll talk about marrying later, when you’re ready.”
I stared into his dark sapphire eyes. “Do you really mean that?”
One side of his mouth quirked up. “I want to mean it. Does that count?”
It would have to. Like everything else, I didn’t see how I had a choice in the matter.
Chapter 24
Vaska
The man’s pleading drowned out Dimitri’s greeting.
He had postponed his honeymoon with Emma till the winter. He wanted to take her home to Russia, but she was insisting on seeing the Anna Karenina version from her imagination, which meant furs, snow-covered cathedrals, and sleigh rides. He was in love with her enough to make it happen. I was fairly certain if there was no snow when they arrived, he would make that happen too. I could see him paying to carpet half of St. Petersburg in fake snow just to please her. He was that much in love with her.
I knew the feeling.
Nodding, I accepted the to-go cup of coffee he offered. We leaned against a stack of crates as one of our men punched the midsection of a former employee who currently dangled by his wrists from a heavy chain suspended from a steel girder. The thief had been caught trying to steal a shipment of Stechkin select-fire machine pistols from us. He had told us the crates had been confiscated by customs. A common enough occurrence in our business if a shipment arrived unexpectedly early or late and one of the customs officers we kept on the payroll with bribes was not on duty. He was then caught trying to sell them to various street gangs. That was when he’d truly crossed the line.