But I’ve already broken that line. I touched her. Kissed her, claimed her again. And now, I can’t fucking stop thinking about her.
I drag a hand down my face and exhale hard.
I need to focus.The war isn’t over. Business won’t wait, and the Danilos sure as shit won’t back down for my second honeymoon.
I struck a deal to win it all. Misha expects me to deliver on my promises. Yet it’s harder now with her back in my bed. I’ll have to concentrate on shipments and power plays when all I want is to crawl back under the covers and lose myself in her again.
I clench my jaw and go to the mirror.
“You’re leaving?”
Sima’s voice makes my head snap up.
In the mirror, I catch her watching me. She’s awake, propped on the pillows, blanket pulled to her chest. Her hair is a mess. Her eyes look heavy.
The sight of her like that tugs at me, but I don’t let it show. I have to keep my face neutral, give nothing away. If I let her see the way she affects me, she’ll use it against me.
I turn and sit on the edge of the bed. The mattress dips and she shifts, pulling the blanket higher.
I can feel her eyes on me. She’s waiting for an answer.
“I’ve got work.” It’s lukewarm at best, but I know better than to tell her anything sensitive. “I’ll be back later.”
“Okay.” She wets her lips. “I’d like to start turning one of the guest rooms into a nursery.”
I hold her gaze. “We will.”
Her brows lift. She waits. I can feel it. She wants more than two curt words from me. Reassurance, conversation, the kind of shared planning couples are supposed to do.
I’m not sure I can give her that without losing control of the situation.
Her brows pull together. “You still don’t trust me, do you? Even after last night.”
“I trust patterns,” I say. “You tried to run. If I give you freedom and you do it again, it won’t be a good look on me.”
It’s the truth. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, I look like a goddamn idiot and myvorywill stage a coup to get rid of me. They’ll enthrone Mikhael whether he likes it or not. Better yet, they’ll get rid of him and Ivan and claim my Bratva for themselves. That’s the risk of doing business with sharks—you can’t ever let them see you bleed.
Sima’s hand slides over her belly. Her voice shakes now. “How am I supposed to plan anything like this if I can’t leave the room? You think I can be a mother from a bed?”
I hate the way she looks at me. Like I’ve already failed her. “Tell me what you want,” I say. “I’ll have it brought. Paint, furniture?—”
“It isn’t the same.” She shakes her head. “I want to do it myself. With you. For our daughter.”
I bite back the urge to argue. She’s right, but I can’t give her what she’s asking for. “I know,” I say. “But it’s what I can allow right now.”
“You said I’m not your prisoner,” she says sadly. “But here you are, still treating me just like one.” She looks past me toward the window, her jaw tight.
Then she looks back at my face. Her eyes glisten but she doesn’t let the tears fall.
I feel a stab of something I don’t want to name.
“I’m not your enemy, you know.”
“You’re not,” I agree. “But you’re not free, either. Not until I know I can trust you.”
She pulls the blanket tighter around her shoulders. “You don’t have to keep reminding me. I get it. I’m your property now.”
That’s not true,I want to say, but my mouth stays shut.
