Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 106159 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106159 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
He stands before brushing Sookie’s fur from his pricy trousers. Even with it being late, he’s wearing his standard work attire. The only difference is he has forgone the restricting tie. His trench coat is tossed over the reading chair Sookie circles before he eventually finds the perfect spot to snuggle up on.
Once Matvei is fur-free, he says, “Fear often speaks on my behalf.”
“Tyler—”
“Is on warning.” He steps closer until his aftershave tickles high in my nose. “Don’t misconstrue my leniency as anything he did. It was all for you.”
I stare into his dark, stormy eyes for guidance.
When I get nothing but more questions, I ask, “Me?”
“Yes.” He prowls closer like a panther with its target locked. “Relationships are about giving and taking. I gave you what you wanted. Now I get to take what I want.”
“That isn’t how it works, Matvei,” I blurt out like I’m not praying his version of “taking” involves my body in some way. Even when he’s paranoid and angry, the hold he has over me doesn’t weaken. I’m drawn to him like a moth to a flame. Blinded by a passion stronger than I’ve ever experienced. “And I’m not sure we’re in a relationship—”
“Stop talking.”
“Excuse me?”
The possessiveness in his snapped tone shocks me, but it is very on par with the man he is. “You’ve been mine since the moment I saw you, so that is not what I am here to discuss.”
“Then what are you here for?”
I’m figuratively knocked back when he answers, “Your husband. I need you to tell me about your husband.”
22
NATALYA
Although a purge would ease some of the heaviness on my chest, I’m not in the right headspace for this conversation. I’m not sure I ever will be.
“You should go. It’s late, I’m tired, and my marriage doesn’t matter. It didn’t matter to me, so it shouldn’t matter to you.”
“It matters to me,” Matvei instantly bites back, his tone one I’ve not faced previously. It is heaving with emotion and pained enough to cut through me like a knife.
When our gazes lock, he repeats, “It matters to me.”
“Why?”
The hand he stuffs into his pocket announces his struggle to stay calm, but he gives it his best shot. “Remember how you felt when you thought I asked the valet for condoms so I wouldn’t have to hide them from my ‘breedable’ wife?” As I grind my back molars together to hide my inane reaction to his hypothetical scenario, I jerk up my chin. “Now imagine the shoe being on the other foot, but instead of your worst fear being a misunderstanding, it’s true.”
“He’s dead, Matvei. I can’t cheat on a dead man.”
He continues to speak as if I didn’t interrupt him. “But instead of this scenario being about an average, everyday couple, insert the most dominant, aggressive—”
“Condescending.”
That gets a smirk out of him but doesn’t slow him down. “Possessive man who has never experienced such a…” He takes a moment to consider the right word. When he can’t find one, he uses many. “Need. Want. A drive that is as debilitating as it is thrilling.” I swoon when he says without an ounce of hesitation, “I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want you, Natalya. You have my head in a tailspin, but I can’t walk away.” My heart clenches. “I’ve tried. Several times. But something keeps drawing me back in.” He pauses, scrubs at his jaw, then fixes his error. “You keep drawing me in.” His pause kills me. However, it is understandable when you hear the terror in his voice. “But I don’t know if I can get over him.” He thrusts his hand at my bedroom door like my deceased husband is standing on the other side. “And what you did or didn’t have with him.”
“We had nothing,” I promise, my voice as emotion packed as his, my hurt just as obvious. “What we had was nothing compared to what we could have if you would just let this go.”
It feels like I am kicked in the stomach when he replies, “I don’t know if I can.” He whacks at his head with his open hand. “The fucking scenarios in my head are sending me insane. I can’t unsee them. I can’t get them to stop. When I smell you, I smell him too.”
“Because you’re not seeing him right. Your possessiveness has you confused. The man I married doesn’t deserve the podium you’re placing him on. He was a vile, despicable man who tried to rape me under the guise that I was his wife.” With the valve loosened, there’s no stopping the inundation of pain I’ve hidden the past two years. “A title I had no clue I held until I was shoved into a room with a man almost three times my age. Supposedly, I was just meant to accept the falsified marriage certificate on the bedside table.”