“I’ll be mostly here to start. I have a certain reputation to maintain, and people will talk if they think I’m stepping out on you so soon.” He chuckled, and a cold hand of dread trailed down my spine.
He was talking about cheating. We weren’t even married yet, and he already planned on straying.
“That bothers you?”
Oh, he knew it bothered me. “Of course, not as long as we both can—”
He cut me off, his hands closing around my cheeks and squeezing. “No.”
There was a wild look in his eyes, and I swallowed painfully.
“You will remain my faithful wife. Any hint of your indiscretions, and our deal is over. Is that understood?”
“Perfectly,” I said tartly.
“Good.” His grip loosened. “I won’t step out on you, Amy.” He said with a sigh. His hand dropped to his lap. “This wedding needs to be airtight.”
“Is your grandfather withholding your inheritance or something? Is that why you agreed to this? You are rich, handsome, and powerful. You can have any woman you want. Why are you marrying me? You don’t even like me.”
He did a double-take. “I don’t dislike you, Amy. I don’t really have any feelings for you at all. My grandfather isn’t withholding anything. He isn’t making me do this. I am doing this of my own free will because making him happy in his final years is important to me. Just like your sister is important to you. No one is forcing us.” His eyes flashed with mine for a second before lingering on my lips. “We aredoing this because we want to, and I think if we both agree to keep things professional.” Again his eyes darted to my lips.
And the look he was giving me wasn’t professional at all. It was heated, and my cheeks flamed. Why did he keep staring at my lips like that?
“Then, we will be fine. I might even say happy. There is no reason we can’t be. As long as you—”
“Behave?” I asked unhelpfully.
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “That wouldn’t have been the word I would use, but sure, let’s go with that. Let’s get inside. You have to get ready, and I have a million things to do.”
I followed after him, out of the car and up the wide steps. The door opened. There were people milling about. Women in what looked like maids’ outfits and men in wrinkled shirts.
I eyed them suspiciously.
“Don’t worry, everyone will change before the guests arrive,” Alexei muttered. “This way.”
He led me forward so quickly that I didn’t really have a chance to take in much else. Some of the staff smiled at me, their eyes full of the kind of pity that I didn’t understand. One passed with a huge vase of tropical-looking flowers in a cut crystal vase.
“Are they our wedding color?” Craning my neck, I watched the maid disappear into a different room.
“Yes.” He didn’t look back. “Is that a problem?”
“No.” Stumbling after him, I shook my head. “They just aren’t what I would have picked,” I muttered as he swung open a door on the second floor and stepped back.
“Of course not.” He rolled his eyes. “They are the ones I picked. This is your room.” He pointed inside. “Make yourself at home. I’ll have the ladies come in to get you—” his eyes swept over me, taking in the ripped jeans and my oversized puffer jacket with a sneer. “Presentable. I will see you downstairs.”
He ended the only half-decent conversation we had ever had by slamming the bedroom door in my face, leaving me standing therestaring at the dark, stained wood with my mouth hanging open like a fish.
Alexei was an asshole, that much was clear, but he was right about one thing: we were doing this because of the people we loved and cared about, and to me, that was the only thing that mattered.
My sister had to live.
Sighing heavily, I shrugged myself out of my jacket and hung it over the back of an antique-looking chair tucked under a carved vanity table. Everything in the room looked expensive, like it should be stored behind red rope or a glass case in a museum. Idly, I trailed my fingertips over the glossy, polished wood, looking around.
The center of the room was taken up by a bed. A massive thing that could easily sleep six, with high towering posts on each corner and curtains pulled back.
As a child, I had always dreamed of a four-poster bed like a princess would have. But this didn’t look like the one in my imagination. It looked almost threatening, not a bed for a princess, unless she was being held captive in a tower by some evil prince.
My eyes darted towards the door. Alexei wasn’t a prince, although he had a big enough ego for one. The thought made me smile, but the grin only stayed in place for a second before an uneasy thought entered my mind.
