Her eyes narrow. “That already sounds like a problem, considering the last time a man in my family made one, I ended up here.”
I almost smile.
“If I win,” I say, moving my pawn two spaces forward to e4, “we consummate the marriage tonight.”
I know I will win, but I still want to see if she’s as brilliant as her file says.
Her reaction is pure instinct. Her spine jerks, the air leaves her lungs in a small sound she doesn’t quite manage to swallow. Her fingers tighten in her coat.
“And if I win?” she asks.
“Then I wait,” I say. “Tomorrow. Next week. Next month. I don’t touch you until you ask me to.”
“Until I…?” Her tongue wets her bottom lip, and my gaze follows the movement before I drag it away. “That’s not a real choice. You’re better than me, otherwise you wouldn’t suggest it.”
“Yes,” I say. “I am better.”
“Then this is rigged.”
“Most things are,” I say. “Fight anyway. Fight dirty.”
The panic recedes by one degree. Her attention shifts down to the board. She reaches out and moves her pawn to e5.
We play.
At first, her moves are textbook. Then something in her clicks. She stops reacting to my pieces and starts planning around them. She leans over the board, elbows resting lightly on the table, and her hair slips loose around her face. Her breathing evens out. The fine tremor in her hands fades.
I study her while she studies the game. The way her brow furrows when she’s working through possibilities. The way her lips press together, then part when she thinks she’s found something. The way she bites her lip when she’s about to commit to a move.
She sacrifices a bishop to pin one of my knights.
“Risky,” I say.
She doesn’t look up. “So is getting into a car with Russians. I seem to be on a roll.”
I move my piece, testing her. She adapts. I can sense her mind working. The same mind Vadim wants shackled to MX-42. She’s good, but not good enough. My cock twitches, hungry.
I press. I can see the ending. I’ve done it a thousand times.
She moves her rook.
I look at her mouth again, while I counter her move, bored.
She moves her queen.
“Check,” she says quietly.
I look back at the board and say nothing for a full three seconds.
Her queen and knight are working together in a pattern I didn’t track because I wasn’t watching close enough.
I sacrifice the rook. There’s no other way to stay in the game.
She doesn’t hesitate. Her knight takes it with a neat, decisive click on the wood.
“Shakh i mat,” she says. Checkmate.
I stare at the board. Then at her. Then I start laughing.
