“I can only hope this budding friendship doesn’t work against me,” he muttered, a playful smirk on his face.
I giggled as he stood from the sofa.
“I have to be at the office.”
“Okay. See you later, then,” I greeted, craning my neck to smile up at him.
He didn’t move for a second. Then he was bending towards me, his hand digging into the leather by my side.
His lips landed on mine in a noisy smooch before I could say, ‘Jack.’
“That’s the real reason I came,” he revealed, his eyes boring into mine.
Then his lips claimed mine again, making my eyes fall shut as I savored the sensation of his lips and the strong smell of him. His lips closed over my lower lip for a moment before he moved to my upper lip. Just when he swept his tongue over my lower lip, he broke the kiss.
“See you later,” he uttered, his lips still almost touching mine.
The lust swirling in his eyes was unmistakable.
“Later,” I breathed.
He picked the tray up and went for the door.
“And, thank you,” I called after him.
“Don’t tempt me to come back,” he warned, his thick voice matching his gaze.
Maybe I want you to.
“Bye,” I whispered.
He nodded and turned around again.
I sighed as he stepped out of the room.
What is going on?
Is this Stockholm syndrome?
****************
“Of course, I can see you’re good,” Isabella enthused. “And, what about that icy husband of yours?”
“That title still takes some getting used to,” I divulged.
“Hmm,” she murmured, a dubious look on her face. “You seem less hesitant about it. You wore an impenetrable frown the last time we talked about Viktor.”
“I can’t say I haven’t been adapting,” I admitted.
“Ah, you have,” she drawled, her smile widening.
Isabella and I were lounging in the sitting room on Viktor’s floor early on Thursday afternoon. She had called Dimitri, asking him to tell me she could no longer make it on Monday.
The fresh pastries she brought sat on a glass stool in front of the sofa we occupied.
“If Viktors says so himself,” I dropped.
“Tell me about it. I don’t want sneak peeks,” she prompted.
