“No,” Viktor said softly. “It won’t. Because if I ever see you laying so much as a finger on what belongs to me again, I’ll cut them off. Do we understand each other?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. Now get back to your post.”
Simon practically ran back toward the house, leaving her alone with her furious husband. Viktor turned to face her, and the look in his eyes made her stomach clench with something that was part fear, part anger, and part unwilling arousal.
“Enjoying yourself?” he asked.
She lifted her chin, refusing to be intimidated. “I was making conversation. Is that against the rules now?”
“Making conversation?” He stepped closer, invading her personal space in a way that made her pulse race. “Is that what you call batting your eyelashes at my employee while pressed up against him like a bitch in heat?”
The crude words hit like a slap, and she felt her temper flare. “Fuck you, Viktor. I was being friendly.”
“Friendly.” He laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Right. The same kind of friendly you were with me four years ago?”
That was a low blow, and they both knew it. “This has nothing to do with what happened between us.”
“Doesn’t it?” He grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks exactly like your old pattern. Find a man, charm him, get what you want from him, then disappear when you’re done.”
She jerked away from his touch, fury coursing through her veins. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
“Don’t I? Then explain to me what you were really doing with Simon. And don’t insult my intelligence by pretending it was innocent.”
She could lie. Should lie. But the accusation in his voice, the assumption that she was automatically up to something manipulative, made her want to hurt him the way his words had hurt her.
“Maybe I was flirting with him,” she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness. “Maybe I was enjoying the attention of a man who actually wants to be around me, instead of one who married me for revenge and then immediately fucked off for a week.”
His eyes flashed with something dangerous. “Careful, wife.”
“Or what? You’ll punish me? Lock me in my room? Send me back to my brothers?” She stepped closer to him, close enough that she had to tilt her head back to meet his gaze. “News flash, Viktor—I’m already paying for my sins. I’m already trapped in this nightmare marriage with a man who hates me. What more can you possibly do to me?”
For a moment, they stood there glaring at each other, both breathing hard, the air between them crackling with tension and barely leashed violence. She could see the pulse beating in his throat, could smell his cologne mixing with something darker, more primitive.
Then he smiled, and it was the most terrifying thing she’d ever seen.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he said, his voice like silk over steel. “You have no idea what I’m capable of. But keep pushing me, and you’ll find out.”
He turned and walked away, leaving her standing alone in the garden with her heart pounding and her hands shaking with rage.
Chapter 4 - Viktor
Viktor couldn’t get the image out of his head. Anka pressed against Simon, her hand on his chest, that fucking smile lighting up her face like Simon had just offered her the world on a silver platter. The same smile she used to give him four years ago, before he learned it was all an act.
Three days had passed since their confrontation in the garden, and he’d barely seen her. She took her meals in her room, avoided the common areas when he was around, and generally acted like he was some kind of plague she didn’t want to catch, which should have been exactly what he wanted. Keeping his distance, maintaining control, making her feel as isolated and unwanted as she’d made him feel.
So why did it piss him off so fucking much?
He was supposed to be working, reviewing contracts for a new shipping deal that would bring in enough money to buy a small country. Instead, he was standing at his office window, watching Anka walk through the gardens with two of his guards trailing behind her like lovesick puppies.
She was wearing a yellow sundress that hugged her curves, making her hair look like spun gold in the afternoon sunlight. Every few steps, she’d turn to say something to the guards, and they’d laugh like she was the funniest woman alive. Their faces lit up when she spoke to them, eager and attentive in a way that made Viktor’s jaw clench with rage.
When was the last time she’d smiled at him like that? When was the last time she’d looked at him with anything other than carefully controlled hatred or resigned acceptance?
Never. Not since their wedding day, and barely even then.
“You’re going to crack the glass if you keep staring that hard,” Kostya said from behind him.
