Even narrowed threateningly, his eyes are a vivid green, dark, like the forest. “Family business. You will likely not see much of me; I’m kept very busy.”
Well, that feel like a punch to my chest.
“Can you tell me anything?” I ask, “How long do I have to stay here?”
He frowns, “Did you forget the bit where I married ye’?”
“Please,” I scoff, “this is a beautifully decorated holding pen. You obviously want nothing to do with me. I’m assuming you’re holding me for ransom? My father won’t pay anything, but Vadick Stepanov might, if only so he can rape and torture me for the inexcusable crime of being kidnapped.”
That gets his attention. “You are my wife. I told you that night it would guarantee your safety. I am a man of my word.”
There’s an undertow to Cameron. On the surface, he’s cold and composed, like still water. But when I look into his eyes, there’s an inexorable pull, like the moon and the ocean tides.
He’s not cold. There’s heat there. And dislike. He’s fighting between the two.
“I’m drifting around this house like a ghost. Can you give me something here? Anything?”
That frown is taking up permanent residence between his brows. “What is it that you think I owe you, wife?”
Why did that just send a jolt up my spine?
“Can I go back to school?” I hurry ahead before he can refuse, “I can finish my art degree online, I would just need to meet with my advisor once in Copenhagen. If your family owns any art-related businesses, I could be useful with marketing or… valuation?” I hate how unsure I sound at the end of my little speech, but there’s no real reason for him to refuse me unless he’s an utter and complete bastard.
“I see no reason for you to waste the time,” he says coldly. “It’s not a career you’re going to pursue.”
Just then, Miss Kevin enters with a huge tureen of soup. She stumbles. I have no idea on what, because the floor is bare, and with an expression of utter horror, she drops the tureen on the table and it splashes the silk-covered chairs. The antique walnut table.
And Cameron’s bespoke suit.
Not a drop makes it all fifteen feet down the table to me, and I watch as he leaps to his feet, cursing while poor Miss Kevin apologizes profusely. Throwing his napkin into the lake of soup, he stalks out the door.
The curse of the Ivanov’s strikes again.
Miss Kevin looks at me apologetically. “Would you like to have your dinner in the library?”
Leaning back, I grin at her and take a healthy gulp of wine. “I believe I would love to have my dinner right here, Miss Kevin. Thank you very much.”
Chapter Seven
In which Morana is paraded out to See and Be Seen.
Morana…
The next morning…
“Let’s try this again.”
I look up from my book to see Cameron leaning against the library door, arms folded.
Putting my battered novel aside, I smile sweetly, thinking about the soup dumped in his lap last night. Did it burn anything important? I have no idea how big he is, but based on the size of the rest of him, he must be gigantic.
“Of course. How are you feeling?”
His eyes darken to that forest green again. “Other than an extensive dry-cleaning bill, I’m fine.”
“That’s good,” I agree placidly. I can tell my bland smile is irritating him and that gives me such joy. “I am delighted to revisit last night’s conversation with the hope that you’ll reconsider my request to finish my degree.”
He’s watching me like he’s waiting for something, some revelation. It’s not that hard. I just want to go back to school.
