Too humiliated to speak, she just stared at his chest. Why, oh why, had she listened to her cousin? She was so going to pinch her when they got back to the house.
A finger came under her chin and he lifted her head to see her face. His lips pressed into a firm line, but the gentleness of his hand on her chin made her feel warm and protected instead of afraid.
“Do you hear me, little bird?” he asked, drawing her attention back to his voice.
She got the feeling this man was used to being obeyed. Swallowing hard, she forced the word from her mouth. “Yes.”
Chapter Two
The occasion was far less civilized than Konstantin had anticipated. He’d thought maybe breakfast, hugs and handshakes with Varushka’s family, then driving straight to the airport. Instead, he was stripped to the waist with every other man of the family, working on the new sheep fence.
It was a test, of course, so see what kind of man he was.
“So, today you bring our Varushka home with you,” her father said, as yet another post went into the ground. Anatoli Koslov was built like a bear, and had joked amiably with him when he’d arrived, but all his levity had disappeared.
“Yes. She seems okay with the idea,” Konstantin said, not sure how eager to sound. “She’s a great girl. You must be very proud of her.”
Anatoli cleared his throat while he pointed out to Konstantin and his sons where to dig the next series of holes. Konstantin pretended not to notice the man struggle to control his emotions.
“No father could ask for a better child. She is the flower of our family, and far more clever than her brothers.”
Konstantin glanced at her older brothers, who were standing close enough to hear. They all either nodded in agreement or glared at him in warning.
“She’ll make a good wife for the right man.” Anatoli pressed his lips together, as though the decision was still paining him. “You will be good to her, though? She’s an innocent girl. A good girl.”
Mud splashed up on Konstantin as he plonked the next fencepost into the hole he’d dug. One of the middle brothers filled dirt in around it as Konstantin held it in place. He hadn’t helped to build a fence since he was a teenager, and he was glad he remembered how. They knew he didn’t make his living as a farmer, but the men of this village judged a man on specific qualities. If a man didn’t balk at manual labor it spoke volumes about his character. Konstantin could more than afford to have professionals build fences for him, but in Nasva, being helpful and a hard worker were more important than having money. It was an attitude he’d always respected, and it had followed him over to his life in America.
“I’ll take good care of her. If she’s not happy with me, I’ll send her home to you.” He held her father’s gaze earnestly, until the man nodded in approval. “It’s not like it was years ago when people moved overseas. You can call her anytime, or visit. Say the word and I’ll send plane tickets.”
“No, no.” Anatoli laughed, his gregarious bravado making a reappearance. “You don’t need an old man living in your back pocket. I have too much to do here. But my wife may need to see her more.”
The man cleared his throat again and wiped sweat from his face that may or may not have been coming from his eyes. He supervised the packing of dirt into the hole next to Konstantin’s as he regained control of himself again.
Konstantin swallowed the sigh that had almost slipped out.
Wasn’t sending for a wife supposed to be less hassle? Maybe he should have stuck with dating worldly women. That wasn’t what he wanted, though. He could have married almost anyone if all he wanted was arm candy. He wanted a real wife. A partner who had the same values and would share the kind of connection with him that his best friends had with their wives.
This meeting-the-parents thing was a lot harder than he’d thought it would be. It wasn’t like a business transaction at all. It was much muddier, and not just in terms of his borrowed boots.
For as long as he’d dated Sindee and Anna, he couldn’t remember whether they’d even had parents.
When it came to Varushka, he felt like he was abducting a child from her loving family. Would he ever be able to sleep with her, let alone explore a BDSM relationship with her, after seeing that look of adoration and concern on her father’s face?
Anatoli glanced back at him. “I’ll be content with visiting with her at the wedding, hopefully within a year, if things go well.” It was said with a grin, but the man’s eyes were not joking. “And again when my grandbabies start coming. Then I’ll be on your doorstep so much you’ll be sorry you made the offer.”
Grandbabies?
Cold dread ran through him. It was all part of the plan, but hearing her family’s expectations so bluntly was like falling into a half-frozen river.
Him, married? Him, a father?
He wanted both, but the immediacy of it scared him. Someday had just come calling. There had been no question that today was going to irrevocably change his life. At almost thirty, it wasn’t as though he was a child anymore, and he’d been fine with moving on to another phase of his life. But babies? He didn’t know anything about babies.
It was too early to think about that anyway. Varushka was still very young—only twenty-one. They had plenty of time for that later. Getting to know each other was the priority now, not nannies and Little League.
It was a damned good thing his years in the business world had given him the ability to keep a neutral expression.
“You’re welcome in our home anytime,” Konstantin replied, smiling as genuinely as he could. The vein in his neck pulsed, urging him to run back to New York. Alone.
But he was a man. He’d made his bed and he’d lie in it.
* * *
A little bird.
Varushka clung to his hand and he felt every tiny bone against his palm and fingers. The plane bumped along as it descended, unaware of the terror it was inspiring in one of its passengers. The girl’s chest heaved, her breathing shallow and erratic. Eyes wide and wild, she was like a sparrow frantic to escape an unfamiliar cage.
Konstantin covered the back of her hand with his other one and made shushing sounds close to her ear. The poor sweet thing. This was only the first of a million things that might be a difficult adjustment in her new life with him. Knowing that all the fear she’d experience in the next few weeks would be his fault dredged up a fresh wave of guilt.
He was a bit of a sadist, but not that kind of sadist.
Why had he given in to Baba when she’d insisted on this? Of course, he’d always had a soft spot where Baba was concerned, but this went above and beyond familial duty. Frightening innocent young girls wasn’t his kink.
“Anytime now the plane’s wheels will come down, and you’ll feel it happen underneath us. There’s nothing wrong. This is what it feels like every time a plane lands.”
He wasn’t sure she was listening. The desperation in her eyes gave him the impression she was in her own private hell. She probably couldn’t hear anything except her own breathing.
When reassurance didn’t work, he moved on to plan B.
“Varushka,” he said sharply.
Her eyes cleared as though she was listening, but she looked a bit afraid of him.
“In life, there are a lot of things to be afraid of. Traveling by plane is not one of them. Now, you will relax your body, and focus on slowing down your breathing. Your mind and body are feeding off of each other’s panic. Stop. Now.” His tone was calm and firm. It was the sort of tone he used with a submissive who started to panic when she was bound.
The girl’s gaze clung to his face. She drew a slow, shaking breath, then another, using him as her focal point. She saw him rather than looking through him.
“Good girl.” He had the urge to pet her hair, but contented himself with stroking the back of her hand. “Relax your muscles. In ten minutes the plane will be on the ground. Almost done.”
Konstantin could tell she was trying hard not to cry.<
br />
It felt like the longest ten minutes of his life, but eventually the seat belt light turned off. As they disembarked, he kept hold of her hand, noticing the way her legs still trembled below the hem of her dress.
She looked adorable, even in the cheap dress that gave the impression it had been purchased in the children’s section of a discount department store. Konstantin wouldn’t have been surprised if someone thought she was too young for him. Sure, she was an adult and old enough to make her own decisions, but her innocence was palpable even to the casual observer.
They went to baggage claim and he retrieved their things. He kept a steadying hand on the girl as often as he could. She rubbernecked, and now that the fear of the plane had passed, she was greeting strangers politely, as though they were new friends she’d just had the pleasure of meeting. Anyone looking to take advantage of an easy mark would pick her out of a crowd in under a minute.
When they got to his car, she stood outside the passenger door and stared at it as though she was used to traveling by oxcart. He opened the door for her and helped her in, then buckled her seat belt, as she didn’t seem inclined to do it herself. He threw the suitcase and his duffel bag in the back.
Varushka was staring at him, astounded, when he slid into the driver’s seat.
“What?”
“Do all Americans own fancy new cars?” She ran a tentative hand over the dash, as though she was stroking a dog.
Considering the question, he pulled out of the parking space. “There’s a mix of new and old, just like there are in most other countries. Maybe we have more new cars than you do in Russia.” He shrugged. “I never really thought about it.” At least, he hadn’t thought about it in a long time.
“Of course you can afford a nice car.” She laughed timidly. “You just spend so much money on people in Nasva, I was surprised you had any left to spend on yourself.”
“I’m not a priest. I haven’t taken a vow of poverty.” Or any other sort of vow.
He tried to remember back to when he was a child and he’d moved here with his parents. He had a vague recollection of everything seeming shinier and newer. Of life moving faster and seeming less within his control. But that was a long time ago, when his parents had still been alive. The world flowed around him now, rather than him trying to adjust to the world.
Maneuvering through the city, Konstantin watched traffic while stealing glimpses of Varushka as she took in the sights. He pointed out landmarks as they passed. Once she was settled in, he’d have to take her sightseeing. New York City had plenty to impress her with, though he’d lived too close for too long to be dazzled by what it had to offer. He’d much rather take her to the beach house or one of his other recreational properties, where they could relax.
The girl fell asleep before they were even out of New York, exhausted by their long journey. He should have been, but he was too keyed up to relax. Having Varushka in the United States, after waiting so long to meet her, was surreal. It gave him the uncomfortable sensation of being irrevocably responsible for another human being’s welfare. He’d had submissives before, often two at a time, but he’d brought Varushka here and she had no support system except him. In the past, some women he’d dated were somewhat dependent on him, but in Varushka’s case he was literally the only thing standing between her and homelessness—between her and danger.
It almost felt like he was taking responsibility for a child, and that scared the hell out of him. He wasn’t ready to be anybody’s daddy, even if the kid in question was twenty-one. Maybe she had life skills, but they would do her very little good in a foreign country.
His silent drive home gave him time to think, but none of his thoughts were comforting. It was official—he was crazy, just like Ambrose had been saying for the past nine months.
Varushka woke only as he turned off into the driveway of his house. It was dark out, but the timer had flipped on the outside lights so at least they could see their way to the door. Varushka stood outside on the front walk, gazing up at the house.
“What is this place? I thought we were going to your home.” Her brows knit in confusion.
He held out a hand and coaxed her up the stairs. “This is my house,” he replied simply. “Your house too, if you choose to stay here.”
She frowned. “I’m too tired for jokes, Konstantin. Why are we here?”
He keyed his passcode into the control panel and opened the door, then led her into the foyer. The sleekness and clean lines of the marble, glass, and metal soothed him. He was not a man designed for farm living, and although he enjoyed visiting his babushka, it always made him appreciate coming home.
“I’m not joking, Varushka. I live here.”
Konstantin had to force himself not to laugh as he watched her examine her surroundings in horrified wonder.
She tucked her hands behind her back and laced her fingers together. “I—I can’t live here. How can you live in a house where you can’t touch anything?”
This time he did laugh. “If you’re that worried, I’ll show you the things that are expensive, that should be handled with care. But nothing in this house is off-limits to you. If you want to look at something or touch something, feel free. If you break something I’ll just buy a new one.”
Her stare was reproachful.
“In Nasva, they say you are a wealthy man, but I thought maybe you had a nice house and a new car. After everything you pay for in our village, I never thought you would have house like this too.”
He smiled at her, trying to push away his discomfort. There were times when he worried she’d been given to him as a sacrificial lamb—as some sort of repayment for the money he contributed to his old community. He really hoped she didn’t see herself that way. He didn’t want a wife who’d volunteered to marry him out of a sense of obligation. It had never been his intention to buy himself companionship.
“Go ahead and look around. I’ll grab our bags from the car.” He went back outside, retrieved their things, and carried them up the steps. At the beginning of the trip, he’d asked her if she was planning to send for her other things after they were settled in America, and had felt like an ass when she’d told him everything she owned was in the bag. He wondered how she’d deal with the culture shock.
She was still standing in the foyer when he came back into the house, as though she was too afraid to explore without supervision.
He closed and locked the door, then showed her how to use the keypad to get in and out of the house. He could tell it made her nervous, but she did her best to follow his directions.
“My security company knows that you live here now, so if you do the wrong thing they’ll contact you and you can explain what happened and they’ll help you fix it.” Her eyes went wide. “Don’t worry. I pay them, so they’ll be nice to you no matter what happens.”
She nodded but didn’t look relieved.
Room by room, he took her through the house. Rather than getting used to the environment, each new thing seemed to be a fresh shock. When they reached the master bedroom, she stood in the doorway, a furious blush coloring her cheeks. She avoided looking directly at the bed. When he led her into the master bathroom, however, the sight of it won a giddy laugh from her, which she smothered with both hands.
“You like it?”
She walked in behind him and went to the tub, placing her hands on the edge and looking into it, as though she was expecting it to do something.
“This house is like one from a magazine. Do you have baths in here? It’s like having a swimming pool next to your toilet.”
“Do you know how to swim? If not, I’ll buy you some water wings in case you want to take a bath,” he teased, but the joke seemed to go over her head.
She looked at it longingly, then turned her back and walked out of the room. He’d have to remember to offer her the chance to use it, because he had a feeling she’d never ask.
“Is there a schedule of what needs to be cleaned on what day?”
she asked. “Or will you leave those decisions to me?”
“A cleaning service does all that. The most we ever have to do is dishes, and even then, someone comes by to take care of that in the morning if we don’t do them.”
Her eyes widened. “But what am I supposed to do all day if I’m not taking care of your house?” Her hands fell limply to her sides, and she seemed lost.
Konstantin shrugged. “I don’t know. Have fun? If that’s not enough, volunteer somewhere, or you can figure out how to get your accreditation so you can work here. You don’t need to work, if you don’t want to, though. We don’t need more money.”
So many women would have jumped at the chance to be spoiled and spend their days amusing themselves. Varushka looked crestfallen.
His protective instincts kicked in. “We can visit the university nearby next week and see which credits transfer over. Do you know what you’d like to teach?”
“Um. Grade school, but I haven’t finished my placements, so I don’t know.”
“There’s no rush.” He took a step closer. “We’ll figure it out. I want you to be happy and comfortable. You can work full-time or not at all.”
“You don’t need me here, do you?” she said accusatorily. “Marrying me is charity, not necessity.” Her thin shoulders drew up to her ears, as though she could hide from him that way. “I was hoping to at least be useful to you.”
Shit.
Hoping he wouldn’t frighten her, Konstantin put his hands on her shoulders and smoothed them downward with his palms. “Your life has been all about hard work until now. In America, you’re going to have to learn to relax and have a good time. Marrying you isn’t about charity, little bird. It’s about stealing a bit of Russia and keeping it as my own.” He winked at her and she smiled shyly, then averted her gaze.
“So you’ve stolen me? Are you going to lock me in your tower and throw away the key?”
Was she flirting? Thoughts of the girl in a sex dungeon intruded, and he guiltily pushed them away.
“If you’re going to be my wife, throwing away the key would make our relationship difficult. Don’t you think?” He let some innuendo slip into his words, to see how she would respond.
To Have and to Master Page 2