His eyes don’t leave me. That same long, thoughtful look stretches out, and the tiny hairs on the back of my neck lift in response.
Maybe he doesn’t know. Maybe I’m just freaking out for no reason.
My heart starts racing so fast I can barely hear over it, and I swear he’s about to tell me he knows I lied.
But instead, he kisses Lev on the top of his head and says, “I’m going to change for dinner.”
“Okay…” I tell him as he starts for the stairs.
I sit there, staring at my jeans and tank top, suddenly unsure if I’m supposed to change too. Do people like him change into something nice for dinner, even at home? Or does he mean he’s changing into something casual? I don’t know how any of this works, and I hate that I even care because I’m not his girlfriend. I’m not anything. I’m just the help.
Except I do have a closet full of expensive clothes with nowhere to wear them. Maybe I should start.
“I’ll go change too,” I tell Lev, who’s returned to reading, completely ignoring me.
Heading upstairs, I slow when I pass his door. He’s right there. Close enough that I could knock. That I could confess everything. Why I’m here in New Jersey, that I’m a monster, a criminal who lost her son because she once had a drinkingproblem and nothing she has done since has been good enough. Tell him that I’m breaking. That I just needone personto hold me up and tell me it’s okay. That I’m okay. That I’m not alone.
Tears fill my eyes, but I blink past them, rushing to my side of the house instead and locking the door behind me.
Closing my eyes, I plant myself against the door, willing myself to calm down. I just need to get Eli what he wants, and then I’m gone. I’ll have my boy, and that’s all I’ve ever wanted. Kirill doesn’t matter. None of this matters.
Straightening my spine, I reach the closet, flipping through dresses and shirts, trying to find something that looks pretty and appropriate. When I land on a baby-blue floral pencil dress, I run my fingertips over the soft material, remembering when I put it on that day Kirill took me shopping and how much it seemed to please him to see me in it…
I slip the dress on in a hurry, leaving my clothes in the hamper in the corner of the room.
Running my fingers through my hair, I examine myself in the full-length mirror, admiring the way the dress hugs my curves.
But in the last moment, I regret it. What if this was stupid? Maybe I’m too dressed up? Maybe I should just change back.
Instead, I stay at the mirror, still looking at myself, knowing that after I leave Kirill’s, I’m never going to have nice clothes or a warm, glamorous house to call home. So maybe I can play dress-up for as long as it lasts without feeling guilty about it.
As I start out of my bedroom, his door opens at the same time, and when his eyes land on me, my heart nearly gives out. He holds my attention, his gaze intense, chest rising and falling as he lets his heated perusal drift down my body like he’s admiring every inch.
“Uh, hi…” My voice gives out. “I just…I thought I would change too. If you think it’s too much, I can change back.”
A nervous laugh slips free, and he clenches his jaw.
“Keep it on. That dress looks…” He can’t seem to get the rest of the words out, his footfalls moving toward me while I remain stuck here like cement, my pulse bouncing in my skull the closer he gets.
I can’t help returning his stare, taking in the way the black T-shirt and tailored trousers make him seem effortless and put together at the same time.
“So you like it?” I back into the door just as he steps in close, his body nearly touching mine, warmth rolling off him in waves that sink straight into my skin.
His fingers trace a slow path up the center of my dress, gliding from my stomach to the curve between my breasts, and my breathing turns more uneven the higher he goes.
“Shto mne s toboy delat, hmm?” He glances at my lips, his other hand sliding into my hair as he tilts my head back, exposing my throat before his mouth finds the pulse there. “You drive me to madness, Sloane. Do you know that?”
“I do?” A sharp current shoots straight through me and my cheeks flush as the fire inside me flares, spreading fast and impossible to ignore.
“You do. Every single day, every moment.” He presses soft, hungry kisses along my neck, and I let out a moan as my fingers glide into his hair, holding him there, wanting more, wanting everything with him.
“You’re the only man I’ve ever wanted.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, heat rushes straight to my face.
I didn’t mean to say that out loud. Oh God, how could I have said that to him?
A low, guttural growl pulls from his chest as his hand clenches in my hair, winding it around his wrist before he tips my head back, his eyes capturing mine. “Ti vsegda budish moya.”
His body presses into mine, and I register his hardness pushing into me. I want nothing more than to please him, to have him fill my mouth with it, to watch him enjoy what I do to him, but I’m too shy to ask for that.
