second later, I heard the doorknob turn and just as the door opened, I jumped from the chair and stood to face it, smoothing down my dress as if there was something I could do to tame it.
Sergei’s eyes landed on me immediately, and his brow quirked. He didn’t speak, though and instead walked in, moving confidently toward the closet. His jacket was folded over his arm, and his shirt was unbuttoned, giving me a view of his rippled stomach and light dusting of dark hair that covered it.
My eyes wanted to linger, stray elsewhere, but I kept my gaze firmly on his face, ignoring how my throat went dry or how fascinated I was with how he moved.
“That’s Matthew’s work,” I said suddenly, gaze squarely in the center of his back.
Then I was facing him as he turned, giving me another glimpse of his hard stomach and sculpted pecs. “What?” he said, looking far more surprised now than he had when he’d entered and found me here.
“Your tuxedo and shirt. Matthew made them,” I said, nodding toward the jacket he still held.
“Old guy, white hair, jumpy?” he asked.
I nodded, smiled before I wiped away the expression. “Yes,” I replied, “that’s Matthew.”
“Then, yeah, this is his work,” he said.
With his next breath, he tossed the jacket aside, not looking to see where it landed, and then he reached for the edges of his shirt and began to pull it off.
I watched, riveted as the linen slid off his strong shoulders to reveal just as strong arms and toned sides. I gulped—literally gulped—like I’d never seen a man’s bare torso before. While it was technically true I hadn’t ever seen one quite like this, the reaction was uncalled for. Besides, he was a criminal, a man who had all but forced me to marry him. Perfect chest or not, I couldn’t forget that.
I was close though, could easily imagine myself forgetting everything but the play of his muscles as he moved, the way the low light glowed against his skin, highlighting the lighter bits in his dark hair…
“What are you doing here?”
I blinked, momentarily taken aback by the smooth, low tone of his voice, and the realization that he was closer to me now. Much, much closer. Close enough that I could feel the warmth rising from his skin, smell his clean, masculine scent.
Gulping again, I craned my head up. Without the few extra inches of height the heels gave me, the way he towered over me was exaggerated even more, and this close, I couldn’t miss his strength and power, or the way he stared down at me, not quite glowering, but leaving no doubt that he wanted an answer.
“What?” I responded.
He lifted his mouth in what was a surprising genuine smile, his eyes taking on a warmth that softened his features just enough to make me forget who he was and what he was capable of.
“Why are you here?” he said, his voice patient but the question still clear in his tone.
“I-I wanted…” I stammered, hating that I did, but not sure how to respond, not sure that I could even say it out loud.
“There’s no assassin in the closet, and as good as Matthew’s work is, I don’t think you were waiting here to discuss it. So why are you here?”
“Umm,” I stammered again. “I, ah, wanted to introduce myself,” I finally said.
And that was true. In a way. It sounded so much better than “I wanted to cut to the chase and get the sex part of this sham marriage out of the way.”
I’d keep that little tidbit to myself. Men like him wouldn’t appreciate the honesty, and I didn’t want to do anything to rock the boat. In fact, I was here now to prove it.
“Introduce yourself, huh?” he said.
I thinned my lips, a moment’s temper rising up before I mercilessly cut it down. Still, I didn’t like the teasing in his voice, or in his eyes, and it was hard to think with him standing so close.
“Yes,” I said. Then I extended my hand, not able to stretch it completely because of how close he was. “I’m Daniela Carmelli.”
I felt
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley