“Hello.”
She spun around. Coming out of the bathroom with a paper towel in his hands, the stranger smiled at her. Kira darted her eyes down. Attractive men were a part of her everyday life, but she never knew how to speak with them without stuttering. Her stupid red cheeks gave her away in a heartbeat.
“I don’t think we’ve met yet. I’m Lazar.” He held out his hand.
Kira cleared her throat and shook his hand, quickly yanking it back so he wouldn’t notice the dirt encased in her fingertips. “Kira.”
“You’re–” He cut himself off. “I guess the picture I saw was a little dated.” He chuckled and tossed the towel in the trash.
She dared to look at him. He had light brown eyes, which were quite different from Maxim’s. He kept his jaw shaved, and his hair was thick, slightly curled, but well-maintained. Was he even taller than Maxim?
Lazar gestured down the hall. “After you.”
Kira felt his eyes on her as she moved down the hall and wondered if this was why Maxim told her to change. She hadn’t given much thought to his brother, and suddenly she felt under dressed.
Kira stepped into the carport, where Maxim was working under the hood of an old Mustang. He had taken off his jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt, exposing a tattoo on the inside of his arm. The image of him threw her off her guard. He looked erotic here, and her stomach clenched.
Maxim glanced at her, quickly back to work, only to stop and stand up. His dark eyes narrowed. “I told you to change.”
Those words set a fire under her. “I’m sorry,sir. I’m not very good with orders.”
“Maxim!” Lazar laughed behind him. “I didn’t know what a beauty you had on your hands.” Lazar came around and slapped his brother on the back. “Do you still feel punished?” he whispered, only to cackle when Maxim elbowed him. Lazarleaned against the workbench and stared at her with an unsettling smirk. “I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to your wedding. I did send a gift, I think.”
If there were gifts, they were already put away by the staff. Kira only had to write her name at the bottom of thank-you cards, which had already been sent out.
“Thank you,” she said. “It was a wonderful event.” Kira ignored the condescending chuckle from Maxim. “Did you want something?” It sounded way ruder than she intended, but in all honesty, she didn’t have much patience anymore. She had put so much work into this house for him to completely blow it off because of his ego: he couldn’t handle a woman having more money than him.
“Yes. We want sandwiches.”
Kira scoffed. “You could have told Lydia.”
“No. I want my wife to make me a sandwich.”
Kira met his daring gaze. “How misogynistic of you.”
Lazar cackled. “Oh, I like her.”
“I apparently need to keep you busy. Otherwise, you’ll destroy the rest of my house.”
“I didn’t graduate in the top three percent of my class to make sandwiches.”
“Oh? Are you busy? Let’s hear it then.” Maxim grabbed a wrench and buried himself in the engine.
Kira stuttered. She actually didn’t have any plans for today because she was hoping that the newly decorated house would be an olive branch into their new relationship and somehow carve a way for them to become friends. It was naive she now realized.
She had spent the last few weeks focused solely on trying to win his affection. But if this was what he wanted, a wife who was more of a robot that followed commands, then he was going to be sorely disappointed.
And if that was the case, if it was impossible, then she was gonna stay true to herself. “Actually, I have two books to read. One about the rise and fall of Genghis Khan, and the other, The Art of War. I have recently learned to play Beethoven’s “Hammerklavier Sonata” and would love to practice, but sadly, there is no piano in this entire estate. As for languages, I already know English, Spanish, French, and Italian, and I have started learning Mandarin Chinese. Sadly, not a single person on your staff speaks it. You should diversify your company better. I find that there is such a massive world out there; limiting yourself to only Russian personnel weakens you. So you see, my time is pretty well divided, so I just couldn’t take a moment to make you a sandwich without sacrificing brain cells.”
Kira stood still, her body shaking. She was angry, but she was also afraid. She knew men like him: men like Rurik, who used rage to make their point. Or would he be more like her father? Yakov never hit her, never raised a hand, or raised his voice. But he twisted her in other ways, and Kira didn’t know which was worse.
Lazar found it hilarious, but wisely stayed out of it.
Maxim placed the wrench down on the car and approached, slowly, like a predator, and Kira swallowed harshly, gripping her dress to keep her feet still. She was not going to be intimidated. She was not going to let him win. Even when he stepped into her personal space, and the scent of his cologne overpowered the smell of oil and grease.
“You are well read, Morozov. I already knew this. There is no piano, and there will not be one because music is considered a distraction. You have the time to read and learn languages, and all this is possible because you have done nothing but live off your father’s money. But you will not feed off of me. You will work for your allowance. Either in the kitchen or in the bedroom. You decide which.”
“I am not your whore.”
