My brows cinched together in confusion. He was staring at my feet.
“Kirill told me you’d hurt your feet and to bring you appropriate footwear,” Margo said, not without a hint of gloating in her tone that was a one-eighty from her resigned one earlier. I glanced sharply at her.
Her eyes sparkled with satisfaction. “I’ll have you know, Kirill, I had to wake up an associate of mine to find those particular shoes.”
I returned my attention to the ivory pumps that matched my dress. My toes squirmed inside them, and I tentatively shifted from foot to foot. I didn’t give them a second thought. I’d forgotten about the cuts on my feet. The insoles were fully padded and conformed to my arch. The chunky heels made it easy to walk.
Reluctantly, as if his eyes commanded me, my gaze pulled to his amazing blue irises. The surrounding whites were bloodshot and glazed like he hadn’t slept at all. I figured mine appeared the same. I had an odd desire to see his eyes in a well-rested state. How blue and arresting they would be. I’d always perceived them as icy, but maybe the warmth of the morning sunlight had something to do with it.
He raised a brow in question. Then I remembered I hadn’t answered him.
“That was extremely thoughtful of you.” And I meant it with no sarcasm.
“See, I have the qualities to make a good husband.”
I disguised a smile by sipping my coffee. My mouth twitched. The wordcharmingand the nameKirillwere an oxymoron. I understood mutual assured destruction. Kirill knew how to manipulate. I’d seen men in my family wield their charisma before they struck their hapless enemy. But for now I needed to buy time and get out of here. I’d already looked over the document. I could break the intent to marry, but the second I did that, Kirill was going to expose me to Viktor’s brother.
Heels clacked on the floor as Margo rounded the desk to put the official six-page document in front of him.
“You’ve already looked this over. The flags are amendments from Miss De Lucci.”
Kirill flipped straight to the flagged content before he flicked his gaze at me.
“I already read it,” I informed him.
“I have no control over Peter’s retaliation,” Kirill said.
“Find a way,” I said. “Any harm to the troopers’ families, and they will have to face the consequences.”
“Peter will go after you, and he might even spare you so you’ll witness how he’s going to massacre your family.”
“You make it sound like my family would be at his mercy,” I derided. “Worry about what he will do when he finds out you lied to him.”
And there it was. Lighting had no bearing on how it influenced his eye color; it was something visceral inside him, his ability to regulate his emotions or lack thereof. Ugh, I shuddered if he really felt any kind of warmth at the idea of marrying me.
Not a sound could be heard in the room.
Not a word.
Not a rustle of paper.
Our eyes clashed, and mine stung from not blinking. God, if marriage to him was going to be like this, it was going to be damn exhausting.
“Okay,” Margo said. “The press is going to be here any minute. We need to table your animosity toward each other to make this work.”
“I don’t know, Margo. I’m having second thoughts about being married to this asshole.”
“That’s the second time you've called me an asshole.”
“Oh, were you counting? I assure you the number is higher if we add the unvocalized ones.”
“I believe you,” he said smoothly, picking up the pen and signing his name in bold swirls and strokes before handing it to me. “Sign it.”
I cast a glance at Margo, who had a blank mask on her face, but I could have sworn a glimmer of amusement twinkled in her eyes. She was enjoying this.
I grabbed the pen from Kirill and etched out my signature.
Kirill lifted my left hand and his thumb brushed over my ring finger. “Do you like diamonds or some other stone?”
