“And this?” Lucya touches the rose petals delicately with the tips of her fingers. “Do you grow super secret herbal poisons here for your assassin work?”
“No.” Somehow, it’s easy to be honest with her. “I built it as a replica of my mother’s greenhouse at the country estate and planted her favorite flowers.”
Some of her animation fades but she nods. “Of course. What a perfect way to keep her close to you.” She gives me the sweetest smile. It seems she’s already forgiven me for scaring the living hell out of her with the abduction, she’s back to her cheerful, hopeful disposition already. How can she be capable of forgiving me this quickly?
It could be an act, but Lucya has no guile. I would have to wait and see.
“Oh… I love this swing!”
The greenhouse designer had installed a cushioned bench swing at the end, big enough for two people to sit together. I’ve never used it. She sits down, pushing herself back and forth with her foot.
“Can I move in here?” she asks, laying her head back on one of the green and yellow pillows.
“Not exactly a practical layout for a long-term residence,” I say.
“We could have meals brought up to us,” she suggested.
“What happens when you need to pee?”
“Don’t ruin my dream with practicalities!” she protests with a cheeky grin.
I let her swing back and forth for a moment, enjoying her bliss.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Yes, though I may not answer,” I say.
She sits up, crossing her legs. I get a brief flash of her sweet pink panties and groan internally. I haven’t gotten hard this much since I was a fucking teenager.
“How do you feel about this agreement?” Lucya’s not smiling anymore. “You’ve always had a very solitary life, right? It’s not like you have a choice here, either.”
Sitting down next to her, I start rocking us again. “I will always do as my Pakhan requests.”
“I don’t think you could sound more Russian right now,” she says. “I know. Duty, honor, and family first. But… are you going to leave me here, locked up in your Underworld while you travel the world killing people?”
I raise one eyebrow.
“I mean, if you don’t want this, I’m afraid that’s what you’re going to do,” she finishes awkwardly.
She’s too close, the warmth of her is smoothing over my skin like a caress, and if I bent my head, I could put my lips on hers. I remember her taste, the stuttering of her breath as she came…
Goddamnit, I’m hard again. My zipper’s about to rub all the skin off my cock.
“I didn’t intend to be a husband or a father,” I say slowly. “I’m aVor.It is not compatible with my duties.” Her hopeful expression fades. “But,” I emphasize, “I will make it work. I’llhave to travel, but I will never leave you alone and unprotected.” Her smile doesn’t come back. “I’ll take care of you.”
“Will you let me take care ofyou?”
The question sets me back. When has anyone said those words to me? My mother, maybe, when I was very young. “I don’t need caring for,” I say coldly. These aren’t the right words and certainly not the right tone, but I don’t like how her question makes me feel. As if I need something like that. “My job will be to care for you, and any children we might produce.”
“Produce?”she says, frowning.
“Children are part of the package,Kolibri.”
She stands up, fussing with her skirt. “I’m cold,” she says, head lowered, “can we go downstairs?”
Grabbing her waist, I lift her onto my lap, straddling me. “Don’t you want to be a mother?”
“I don’t want to be anobligation,”she says, meeting my eyes with a fire that I’m finding very attractive. “I always kept out of everyone’s way, so I didn’t take up too much space. I may only be a waitress here, but I took care of myself. I took care of Inessa, too,” she admits. “I’m not helpless.”
