by Katee Robert
“It seems I’m not the only one who’s charming.” Her laugh boomed out, sounding happy. Keira cast a glance over him that was just shy of an invitation, but then shook her head in mock sadness. “But I’m afraid it wouldn’t happen. My Dmitri keeps me more than satisfied.”
My Dmitri.
It was an act, but the words still rang through him. If he had his way, his wife would have already been satisfied several times over today, but the only person who knew it hadn’t happened—wouldn’t happen—was Keira.
“My Natasha would like you, I think.” Ivan gave Dmitri a lingering look.
“I’m going to take that as a compliment.”
He transferred that look to Keira. “You should. Excuse me.” He headed back to the bar and poured himself a double.
The night was going nowhere fast. Dmitri had expected some rebellious act, but this was…something else altogether. Keira allowed him to take her hand, her dress shifting around her. Her pale skin shone beneath the black beading, and his attention was drawn back to her nipples again and again.
“See something you like?” she murmured.
Yes. He hated it, but he also fucking loved that dress. He wanted her to wear it for him at a private dinner, where he could touch her, could drink in the sight of her, without eyes on them. The fact that there were eyes on them—on her—had him speaking without intending to. “You look like a high-class sex worker.”
“Isn’t that exactly what I am?” Her smile never wavered, and she didn’t look at him. “You might not have paid in cash, but you bought me all the same.” With that, she expertly detached her hand from his and moved to perch on the single chair next to the fireplace. “Ivan, you must tell me how you met my darling husband.” Her hazel eyes twinkled, and he almost believed the lie in every line of her body. “I’m sure you have some hair-raising stories to share from his formative years.”
Chapter Seven
Keira had been under the impression that this was a meeting with several men, so she’d been surprised when it quickly became apparent that Ivan was the only one who showed. That had to sting, Russian. Apparently, Dmitri wasn’t as all-powerful as he would have liked if he couldn’t compel family members to come to something that should have guaranteed attendance.
Layers within layers there. The O’Malleys didn’t have much interaction beyond their immediate family, but Keira’s father had only ever wanted Boston. He wasn’t interested in spreading his empire beyond the city, though he would have liked to take the city entirely. The Romanovs were different. From what she gleaned of Dmitri and Ivan’s—blessedly English—conversation, the Romanovs were the big players back in Russia, and they had representatives of the family in several of the big port cities in the US. Dmitri in New York, Ivan in Texas, Kirill in LA, and Sasha in Seattle.
Finally, Ivan checked his watch and rose. “I must be going. My Natasha gets irritated when I’m late.” He waggled thick brows at Keira, making her laugh. “She’s far too good with a knife to risk displeasing, no matter how enchanting the company.” He took her hand and pressed his lips to it, releasing her almost instantly, and then turned to Dmitri. “I wish you and your bride the best of luck, and a long and healthy marriage.”
Dmitri didn’t appear amused. “You’ll convey that to Kirill and Sasha, of course.”
Ivan’s eyebrows lowered further, almost covering his eyes. “Of course. No need to be so crass as to point it out. The marriage mended some of the issue, but if you don’t control your territory, it won’t make a difference. Fix things, Dima. Fix them fast.”
She half expected Dmitri to threaten him or do something to slap him down for his attitude, but he just nodded. There was no reason to take it personally. This man didn’t care about her, no matter how charming he was, any more than Dmitri ultimately cared about her. She was a pawn in a deeper game they played, and she was slowly coming to realize that the rules she’d grown up with—the O’Malley rules—didn’t apply here.
She had to learn the lay of the land—and fast.
Dmitri’s hand on her arm urged her to stand, and they walked Ivan out. She tried to pay attention to what they were saying, but they’d switched to Russian, and Keira didn’t know more than a handful of words. Whatever it was, it didn’t seem particularly serious, because their body language was relaxed and open. Or they’re better liars than most people you know.
It wasn’t until the front door closed behind Ivan that the reality of her situation sank in. Dmitri was furious. He might have faked it for his friend, but he stood next to her, a pillar of stone with anger coming off him in waves. His grip on her elbow didn’t hurt, but if she’d tried to leave, he would have restrained her.
She should be afraid. She should be terrified.
Keira’s heartbeat picked up, adrenaline kicking in. She swung to face him with a fierce smile on her face. “You didn’t compliment me on my dress.” It was a work of fucking art. She smoothed her free hand over her hip and up her side. “Actually, you called me a high-class sex worker. Is that any way to speak to your beloved wife?”
His gray eyes followed the movement, a muscle ticking in his jaw when she cupped her breast. “I meant it when I said you’re playing with fire.”
That wasn’t just anger on his face now. No, it was rapidly being overtaken by sheer lust. An answering feeling sent a bolt straight to her core. She stepped back, and he released her instantly. A strange feeling coursed through her, straightening her spine and making her want to laugh out loud. Power. This is what power feels like.
He wanted her. He wanted her so badly, he had his hands clenched at his sides to keep from touching her again. But he wouldn’t until she gave the green light. Keira took another step back. “I have a hypothetical question.”
“Ask.” His voice was rough. The way he watched her made her feel like prey, and she liked it far more than she should—because she wasn’t prey. Keira had her own teeth and claws, and Dmitri would learn that as time went on.
“Hypothetically, if I said yes tonight…how do you imagine that would go?”
He stared at her a long moment. “Nyet. I’m not playing this game with you.” She blinked and he was on her, one hand snaking around to press against the exposed small of her back, the other tangling in her hair. “We are not children, moya koroleva. These games don’t become us.”
He kissed her. There was no cautious exploration or easing into it. Dmitri kissed her like a conquering warlord who was sure of his welcome because he owned everything in the room—including her. There was no fighting this. She didn’t even want to try. Keira slid her arms around his neck and pressed herself more firmly against him. His cock was a hard length with too many layers between them. She rolled her hips, an invitation she wasn’t sure she was ready to follow through on.
Dmitri slid his hand down to cup her ass, guiding her movements. Long slides up the length of his cock and back down again. The stupid goddamn dress kept her from spreading her legs wider, from getting him exactly where she needed him. Her nipples rubbed against his shirt, the silk incredibly decadent across her sensitized skin.
“Keira. Moya koroleva.” He kissed down her jawline, tilting her head back until she had to arch her spine to accommodate the position. “Did you enjoy their eyes on you? Ivan’s. The men who owe allegiance to me. Anyone who cared to look.”
It took her desire-drugged brain a beat to catch up, but by then he was already growling out more words against her skin. “Did it make you feel powerful to know they were imagining stroking the nipples you flash with such impunity?” He moved his hand from her ass to do exactly that, dragging a finger over her puckered nipple. “They wanted the body you so proudly put on display.” His voice roughened. “They wanted what’s mine.”
Say something. If you don’t say something right now, you’re going to give in tonight and then it will all be over.
He moved his hand to her back and bent her until she relied solely on his strength to keep her off the ground. And
then Dmitri’s wicked, wicked mouth closed around her nipple. The weight of the beaded design seemed heavier with his tongue flicking the engorged bud, making his touch that much hotter. She couldn’t hold back a moan as he moved to her other breast.
Dmitri dragged his mouth up the center of her chest, the only part of her not caged in the dress, stopping at the thick collar. He flicked the hollow of her throat with his tongue. “This is my favorite part of the dress.” He ran his thumb over it. “This, more than anything else, marks you as mine.”
A collar for a kept pet.
It was as if he’d doused her in icy water. Keira went rigid and shoved Dmitri away. She almost fell when he released her, but she regained her balance at the last second. They stood mere feet apart, breathing hard and staring at each other. I am no one’s pet. She slashed her hand through the air. “I might be your wife, Russian, but I’m not yours. I’ll never be yours.”
She could actually see him replacing his aloof mask, piece by piece. It took the space of a heartbeat to hide the desire and rough edges, to cage the beast. Then there was only the icy gentleman-murderer looking out at her. He smoothed his shirt down. “You may fight it all you want, but you were right before—you sold yourself to me the second you walked down the aisle. You are mine. You will always be mine. There’s no escaping it.”
Once upon a time, he’d told her that he couldn’t offer her love. She’d accepted that—love was a pipe dream in her world—but a loveless marriage and an…ownership…were two different things. Keira drew herself up straight. “Good night, Russian.”
Nothing flickered in his expression. “I’ve changed my mind.”
Keira froze. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“You have a week. After that, you’ll be in my bed.”
The blood rushed out of her head, leaving her swaying despite her best efforts to keep it under control. “I disagree.”
He didn’t give an inch. “I’m not fucking you, Keira. I gave my word and I’ll keep it. But you are my wife, and the current arrangement no longer holds, so you’ll sleep next to me as if you were my wife in truth.”
Another choice, taken from her.
Another man, thinking he knew best.
Another head of a family, expecting her to follow his orders like a good little solider.
Well, fuck that.
She’d forgotten, for a few seconds. Forgotten that he was the enemy, forgotten that she couldn’t let her guard down—not even physically.
Keira had been playing at rebellion before now. A part of her had still believed that she’d get her happily ever after despite all signs pointing to the contrary, and she’d been hesitant to do anything she couldn’t take back. But, as Dmitri had told her time and time again, he wasn’t Prince Charming in the guise of a beast. He was the beast.
No one was coming to save her. There was no ending where the princess got out of the tower and exchanged vows with her one true love. It was time to put those childish dreams behind her, once and for all.
It was time for Keira to save herself.
* * *
Dmitri waited for confirmation that Keira was safely in her bedroom before he went to his office. Tonight didn’t go as expected. A vast understatement. Kirill and Sasha’s absence didn’t bode well, though he was happy Ivan made an appearance. Things would fall out with the family back in Mother Russia as they would, but he couldn’t count on any assistance with the Eldridges. That was to be expected. He hadn’t intended to ask for help in the first place.
A threat against his wife was a threat against him and everything he stood for. He’d been careful with his handling of Alethea before now, but he couldn’t afford to do so any longer.
He also couldn’t afford to wait for Aiden O’Malley to pull his head out of his ass.
“Mikhail.” He didn’t raise his voice, but he didn’t have to.
The man in question stepped into the room and closed the door behind him at a nod from Dmitri. He frowned. “Yes, sir?”
“I need the name of the man who delivered the package here.” Either he’d done it because Mae paid him or because she had blackmailed him. The why didn’t matter as much as the threat this mystery man posed. Dmitri prided himself in the loyalty of his men, and Mae had pulled that assurance out from beneath him. There were only two men he was reasonably sure weren’t guilty—Mikhail and Pavel. Everyone else was suspect.
Since he couldn’t clear out the house and leave them fully vulnerable, Dmitri had to play the odds. He’d assigned Pavel to Keira, but he had another job for Mikhail.
“I’ll get on it—”
“No, I’ll do it myself. What I need from you is to find where Alethea and Mae are hidden. I want you on this personally, Mikhail. Take whoever you need, but I require answers by the end of the week.” It gave him another few days before the wedding reception. The official announcement of his and Keira’s marriage. He had to put this last remnant from the past to bed before he could focus fully on the future.
“I’ll start tonight.”
He paused. “The girl. Do you have a name yet?”
Mikhail shook his head. “No one reported missing in the last few days matches her description.”
Which could mean anything from her being taken from a different city to being someone who wouldn’t be reported missing in the first place. Dmitri sighed. “That information will have to wait. Alethea and Mae’s location takes first priority.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“Go.” He waited for the door to shut before he let himself slump back into the chair. There was so much at stake, and the only thing he could focus on was that fucking dress. Temptation personified. Keira knew what she was doing when she chose it, the same way she knew what she was doing earlier today when she’d teased him. He should remove that inkling of power before she got a taste for it, but Dmitri found himself curious of what her next step would be.
He’d pissed her off tonight. Keira wasn’t fond of the thought of being owned, which was a pity because she didn’t have a choice in the matter. The world worked in a certain way, and that way involved his ring on her finger and her under his protection. Ownership was just a less delicate way of labeling marriage. If he’d been thinking clearly, he wouldn’t have said it—at least not until he and she were on solid ground.
But then, he made a lot of missteps when it came to that woman.
He ran a hand over his face. Here, alone in his office, it was too easy to picture her sliding out of that dress. Unpinning her dark hair to let it fall around her shoulders. Slipping off the panties that were the final thing shielding her from his gaze. His mind conjured a few extra curves that would fill out once she put a bit of time and distance between her and her poisons of choice.
Keira was beautiful now, even without being fully recovered from her shitty lifestyle choices. In full health and trusting him…magnificent didn’t begin to cover it.
Getting ahead of yourself. She can’t stand you.
She would come around. She had demonstrated herself to be a smart woman, and a smart woman knew when to fight and when to fold. Dmitri wouldn’t let her go—he’d been clear about that. As his wife, she would eventually step forward as his partner in full. He simply had to wait her out.
Unfortunately, they didn’t have the luxury of getting used to each other in a more leisurely manner. Enemies had a habit of multiplying the moment they sensed weakness or distraction, and the last few years hadn’t been kind to Dmitri. He’d had his plans foiled again and again by the O’Malleys, and every low-life crew in the vicinity of New York now looked at his territory with greed instead of fear. He had a significant amount of lost ground to recover.
Between marrying Keira and making an example of the Eldridges, he’d go a long way toward reclaiming the reputation his father had handed down to him. Honoring the family legacy.
His phone rang, which had him double-checking the time. Late, but not so late as to be unusual. He checked the
number and had to restrain a surge of triumph. Right on time. “Hello, Aiden.”
“I’ll help you, but seeing as how you can’t even provide the promised phone call from my sister, first I want to see her and hear for myself that she’s where she wants to be.”
“Always business with you. How’s the weather in Boston? It’s been far too cold down here for my liking, but then winter is my least favorite time of year.” He shouldn’t poke at Aiden, but Dmitri was hardly a saint, and the O’Malley made it so damn easy to get under his skin.
But, for once, Aiden didn’t rise to the bait. “You’re due for a visit with Hadley.”
Dmitri went still, no longer amused. Crossing the line, Aiden. “My arrangement regarding Hadley is between my sister and me.”
“Your sister is married to my brother and living under my roof. Her business is my business, which means her daughter falls under my protection.” It wasn’t quite a threat, but Aiden wasn’t crude enough to lay it all out there the way some would.
He gritted his teeth. “What are you proposing?” Giving up the visits to his niece was not an option. Olivia might not particularly like him, but she was blood, and her daughter was as well. Cillian O’Malley had all the makings of a good father and husband, but Hadley was also Dmitri’s late second in command’s daughter in addition to being Dmitri’s niece. Responsibility for her care fell to him, even if his half sister wouldn’t thank him for pointing it out. Allowing Hadley to grow up surrounded by the Irish with no connection to her family—to him—was out of the question.
“Tomorrow. Bring Keira when you come for your visit. If I’m satisfied with her answers, she’ll return to New York with you.” His tone said how unlikely he found that possibility.
“If you try to take her from me, you’ll be facing war.”