Page 43 of The Pakhan’s Accidental Bride

"Be careful, Kiera. Please."

"I will."

I step out into the bright morning sunlight, my gym bag slung over my shoulder, and freeze.

Emil's dark SUV is parked directly in front of the entrance. Luca stands beside the open rear door, his arms crossed, his expression unreadable behind his sunglasses. He nods at me.

"Miss Walker."

My heart kicks into a faster rhythm. "What are you doing here?"

"Waiting for you." Emil's voice comes from inside the vehicle. "Get in."

It's not a request.

I glance back at the gym, but Devin has already gone back to work, nowhere in sight. Not that he could do anything against Emil and his bodyguard, anyway. Part of me wants to refuse, to walk to my car and drive away. But another part of me wants to see what happens next.

I climb into the SUV. Emil sits in the back seat, dressed casually in dark jeans and a fitted black shirt that stretches across his broad chest. His light brown hair is slightly tousled, and his dark eyes watch my every movement as I settle into the seat beside him. Luca closes the door and moves to the front passenger seat.

"Where are we going?" I ask.

"My house." Emil's gaze doesn't waver. "I thought you might like to see it."

The drive takes about thirty minutes. We leave the city behind, heading into an area of sprawling estates and gated properties. When we finally turn through a set of iron gates, my breath catches.

The estate is massive. The main house is a modern structure of glass and stone, surrounded by perfectly manicured lawns and gardens. As we drive up the long driveway, I notice men positioned at various points around the property. They're trying to be discreet, but I can see the bulges of weapons beneath their jackets.

Armed security. Of course.

The reminder of who Emil is, what he does, sends a chill through me despite the warm morning air.

Luca parks near the front entrance, and Emil gets out, coming around to open my door before I can do it myself. His hand is warm and firm as he helps me out, and he doesn't let go immediately.

"Come. I'll show you around."

He leads me through the house, and I try not to gape. Everything is sleek and modern, with high ceilings and floor-to-ceiling windows that let in floods of natural light. The furniture is expensive but comfortable-looking, and there's art on the walls that I'm pretty sure is original.

"This is beautiful," I say, because it is.

"I'm glad you think so." There's something in his voice, something that makes me look at him. He's watching me with an intensity that makes my stomach flip.

We end up on a patio at the back of the house. It's surrounded by lush greenery, with a table already set for brunch. The food is laid out like something from a magazine—fresh fruit, pastries, eggs, bacon, and coffee.

"Have a seat," Emil says, pulling out a chair for me.

I sit, and he takes the seat across from me. For a few minutes, we eat in silence. The food is delicious, and despite everything, I find myself relaxing. He hasn't mentioned marriage. He hasn't pushed or demanded anything.

"Your brothers are protective," he says eventually.

I smile, despite myself. "They worry about me."

"They should." His gaze is steady. "You're involved with a dangerous man."

"I'm not involved with you."

For an answer, he just smiles knowingly.

I take another sip of coffee and let myself enjoy the moment. We talk about inconsequential things. He asks about my job, and I tell him about the chaos of fashion. He tells me about a property he's considering buying. It's almost normal. Almost.