Reign (The Syndicate_ Crime and Passion Book 2)(9)

“The puppy-dog eyes don’t work on me,” she said, standing. She tapped me on the shoulder. “Talk to her. She might surprise you.”

I thought back to the venomous look on her face, the way she so quickly covered it.

“I doubt it,” I said.





Four





Daniela



“I wish he would hurry up,” I muttered under my breath.

There was no one in the room to hear me, but I’d spoken out loud, needing some sound, even if it was just my own voice.

I couldn’t say I spoke the truth, though.

Did I wish he would hurry up? More like I wished he’d never arrive, but that was unlikely to happen. So the sooner he got here, the sooner this would be over.

And what, exactly, was this? I wasn’t entirely sure. I’d come here hours ago and waited to fulfill the last aspect of this wedding charade. But as of now, all I’d done was wait.

I shifted in the stuffed armchair, the voluminous dress rustling with my motion. Then I looked around the bedroom, saw that it was as it had always been, a guest room that had never welcomed guests in my lifetime. But my mother had seen to it that the room remained well-furnished and ready, and I’d continued that.

My new husband seemed to be putting it to use. There were no personal touches like photos, but I could see that he’d staked this place out for his own, his clothes neatly folded in the dresser, his toiletries in the attached bath.

Him being here, so comfortable in my family’s home wasn’t something I was sure I liked, but given everything else, I couldn’t get too upset. I’d always have the memories of this place and the people who’d lived in it no matter who it belonged to.

I sighed and shifted again, the tight corset cutting into my skin and my feet finally beginning to ache after so many hours in the tall, constricting heels. On a lark, I kicked them off and breathed what was my first sigh of relief. He wouldn’t be looking at my feet.

I threw my head back against the chair.

Assuming he ever got here.

Not a second later, I heard the doorknob turn and just as the door opened, I jumped from the chair and stood to face it, smoothing down my dress as if there was something I could do to tame it.

Sergei’s eyes landed on me immediately, and his brow quirked. He didn’t speak, though and instead walked in, moving confidently toward the closet. His jacket was folded over his arm, and his shirt was unbuttoned, giving me a view of his rippled stomach and light dusting of dark hair that covered it.

My eyes wanted to linger, stray elsewhere, but I kept my gaze firmly on his face, ignoring how my throat went dry or how fascinated I was with how he moved.

“That’s Matthew’s work,” I said suddenly, gaze squarely in the center of his back.

Then I was facing him as he turned, giving me another glimpse of his hard stomach and sculpted pecs. “What?” he said, looking far more surprised now than he had when he’d entered and found me here.

“Your tuxedo and shirt. Matthew made them,” I said, nodding toward the jacket he still held.

“Old guy, white hair, jumpy?” he asked.

I nodded, smiled before I wiped away the expression. “Yes,” I replied, “that’s Matthew.”

“Then, yeah, this is his work,” he said.

With his next breath, he tossed the jacket aside, not looking to see where it landed, and then he reached for the edges of his shirt and began to pull it off.

I watched, riveted as the linen slid off his strong shoulders to reveal just as strong arms and toned sides. I gulped—literally gulped—like I’d never seen a man’s bare torso before. While it was technically true I hadn’t ever seen one quite like this, the reaction was uncalled for. Besides, he was a criminal, a man who had all but forced me to marry him. Perfect chest or not, I couldn’t forget that.

I was close though, could easily imagine myself forgetting everything but the play of his muscles as he moved, the way the low light glowed against his skin, highlighting the lighter bits in his dark hair…

“What are you doing here?”

I blinked, momentarily taken aback by the smooth, low tone of his voice, and the realization that he was closer to me now. Much, much closer. Close enough that I could feel the warmth rising from his skin, smell his clean, masculine scent.

Gulping again, I craned my head up. Without the few extra inches of height the heels gave me, the way he towered over me was exaggerated even more, and this close, I couldn’t miss his strength and power, or the way he stared down at me, not quite glowering, but leaving no doubt that he wanted an answer.

“What?” I responded.

He lifted his mouth in what was a surprising genuine smile, his eyes taking on a warmth that softened his features just enough to make me forget who he was and what he was capable of.