“Alexander,” he warned, “he wouldn't want you sticking your dick in his wife either, but I know that look on your face. I’ve seen it more times than I can count.”
I smiled coyly. “That’s because you’re shit at math.”
He laughed, but the sound died quickly away. “Alex, I’m serious.”
“So am I. I won’t be long. I just want to make sure she’s okay.”
He sighed. “I’ll keep them busy while you check on her. Check, Alexander, with words not your dick.”
I laughed and closed the distance between us to push him through the door, watching briefly as Nikolai draped an arm over the shoulders of both women and the blonde who’d been all over me for the past ten minutes threw me a confused look. I winked at her and turned away knowing that Nikolai would take care of her needs until I got there.
Heading back across the balcony swiftly, my gaze on the floor as I tried to control my natural impulse to flirt and fuck, I walked straight into Marisha who was heading towards the door. My hands flew up to grip the tops of her arms to stop her from falling over. She let out a small yelp of surprise and I dragged her to my chest and stared down into her face. Being this close, touching her and smelling the floral and musk notes of her perfume, erased the brief effort I’d made to keep myself in check.
Her mouth opened as she blinked up at me, her cheeks flustered. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you.”
“That’s okay, no harm, Marisha,” I replied, brushing her hair back from her shoulders so I could see her slender neck better. She shivered as my fingertips brushed against her skin.
“You know my name?”
“You’d be surprised what I know,” I countered, my heated gaze watching her thoughtfully.
“Well then, you’ll know who I am,” she said, pulling herself free from my grip, “and you know who my husband is.”
I laughed darkly. “Sweetheart, your husband is like family to me, of course I know who he is.”
Her eyes flashed with worry at my words, the sadness I’d seen on her pretty face earlier was gone. Her body was now tense, her gaze skittish, and I frowned, preferring the earlier look of pretty bewilderment to the fear that replaced it.
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell him we’ve been talking if you don’t.”
“I should be getting back to him,” she said, her voice soft.
A smile played at the corner of my mouth. “Should yes, but let’s be reckless for a while. What’s five more minutes?” I wrapped my hand around the top of her arm again and pulled her back into the corner I’d seen her in only a few moments before. It was out of sight and away from prying eyes, which was perfect. Ivan was protective of his things, and Marisha was no doubt a thing to him, not a person, not a woman, and certainly not a wife he respected. I knew the history of her family—it was my business to know these things after all. I also now knew his reason for marrying her, even if the nuptials had put a wedge between my father and Ivan—who could turn down a flower like this? I’d wondered who had managed to tame him and now I could see exactly how.
“I can’t be seen with you,” she whimpered, pulling her arm free as I pressed her back against the low wall, “he’ll kill us both,” she gasped as I placed my hands on either side of her, invading her space.
She wasn’t wrong either.
“We’re just talking,” I replied darkly, wishing to do all manner of things to her, talking not being any of them. This woman was intoxicating, and it took all of my willpower not to press my lips to hers.
Ivan was a lucky man. I’d never been jealous of anyone in my life. Why would I be? I had everything a man could ever want; money, cars, respect, power, and the pick of any woman I desired. So why did it feel like I was on the losing side for once? The feeling was foreign and uncomfortable to me.
“He’ll punish me for even that,” she scoffed and then panic flashed across her face again, realizing she’d said too much.
The thought of Ivan punishing her irritated me and I scowled at the very idea. The idea of Ivan laying his hands on her and blemishing her perfect flesh had my own hands curling into fists. I’d known he was a chauvinist, but I’d never thought of him treating women like that, but now it seemed all too obvious.
“Well then, Marisha,” I said, removing my arms and giving her some space to breathe before I lost control, “this will just have to be our little secret then, won’t it?”
“I really need to get back inside,” she replied, making no move to go. If anything, judging by the longing in her eyes, she was exactly where she wanted to be.
“To the party? Nonsense. No onewantsto be at this party. Even the people throwing it don’t want to be here.” I slipped my hands into my pockets and stared out at the city below us, not wanting to push her to stay with me. I’d never chased a woman, and I wasn’t about to start now. “This party, like all the others, is just for show. It’s for rich, old men to make deals and for pretty women to catch up on gossip.”
I realized as soon as I said it that it was a completely sexist thing to say and I glanced towards her, giving a small shrug of apology before turning back to the city before us.
From my peripheral I watched her hesitate, her gaze flicking to the rooftop exit, but then she turned to look at the view with me. The city was alight with color tonight. The sun finally set behind Brooklyn bridge and the lights of the city illuminated the sky as it came to life. I loved this city. I loved how busy it was. I loved the people. I loved the culture. I loved it all. But standing here with Marisha inexplicably gave everything a whole new meaning.
“Have you ever been out dancing?” I asked, surprising us both. I would have liked to see a woman with her figure dancing. The soft material clinging to every curve. She’d move beautifully, body almost floating over the floor. I could almost picture it.
“Dancing?” she asked, sounding confused by the sudden change in topic.
