Page 9 of The Pakhan’s Accidental Bride

"I enjoy reminding people of their place." I sign the contract with a flourish and toss it into my outbox. "The council has been getting too comfortable lately. Too bold. They need to remember who's in charge."

"Fair enough." Luca swirls his whiskey, watching the amber liquid catch the light. "So. You want to tell me what you're actually doing?"

I glance at him. "Getting married. Isn't that obvious?"

"Bullshit." He sets his glass down on the side table. "I've known you since we were kids. You don't do anything without a reason. You sure as hell don't announce an engagement to a woman you just met unless you've got an angle."

Smart bastard. This is why Luca is my sovietnik, why he's the only person I trust completely. He sees through my bullshit every time.

I stand and move to the window, looking out over the city. "The council wanted me married. They weren't going to stop pushing. Every week, another potential bride, another negotiation."

"So you saw an opportunity and took it."

"She gave me exactly what I needed." I turn back to face him. "A fiancée who isn't connected to any of the families. Who doesn't come with political baggage or expectations. Someone I can control."

"Can you?" Luca's expression turns thoughtful. "Control her, I mean. She didn't exactly seem like the obedient type."

No. She fucking didn't. That's part of what made her so appealing. The way she'd grabbed me without hesitation, the desperation mixed with determination in her green eyes. She'd been scared, but she hadn't let it paralyze her. She'd acted.

I respect that.

And Christ, the way she'd looked in that dress. The fabric had hugged every curve, showing off her tits and the dip of her waist and that perfect ass. When I'd pulled her against me on the dance floor, I'd felt every inch of her, soft and warm and responsive. My cock had gotten hard immediately, pressing against her stomach, and she'd felt it. I'd seen the awareness in her eyes, the flush that had spread across her cheeks.

She'd wanted me too. I'd tasted it in her kiss.

"Are you seriously considering marrying a woman you barely know?" Luca asks.

"I know enough." I move back to my desk but don't sit. "She's smart. Brave. And she needs protection from whoever that asshole was at the club."

The memory of that man approaching Kiera, the way she'd tensed, and the fear that had flashed across her face, it makes something dark and violent stir in my chest. "She was terrified of him."

"So you're playing hero?" Luca's tone is skeptical.

"I'm solving a problem." I lean against the desk, crossing my arms. "The council wants me married. She needs protection. It's practical."

"And the fact that she's gorgeous? That's just a bonus?"

"It'll be in name only," I say. "A business arrangement. She plays the role of my wife in public, attends events, and keeps the council satisfied. In return, I'll pay her well. Very well."

"Assuming she agrees." Luca picks up his whiskey again. "You haven't actually asked her yet, have you?"

"Not yet."

"She might say no."

"She won't." I'm certain of it. I saw the fear in her eyes when that man approached her. Whatever history she has with him, it's bad enough that she'll take any escape I offer. And even if she tries to refuse, the announcement is already public. She's locked in whether she likes it or not. "I'll make sure the terms are generous enough that refusing would be stupid."

"And if she still says no?"

Then I'll find another way to convince her. I remember the way she'd kissed me back, the little sound she'd made when I'd deepened it. The way her body had melted against mine. There's attraction there, on both sides. I can use that if I need to.

But I don't say that to Luca. Instead, I shrug. "She'll say yes."

Luca shakes his head, but he's smiling. "You're a cold bastard."

"It's why I'm Pakhan." I pull the newspaper closer, studying the photo again. Kiera's face is turned toward me, her lips slightly parted. She looks surprised. Caught off guard. She has no idea I'd already decided to keep her before we even left the dance floor.

"I need to approach this carefully. She can't feel trapped or she'll bolt."