“I don’t want to,” I said.
“Tomorrow we’re getting married,” he said simply. “You’re my wife and you’ll sleep in my bed with me. I won’t touch you yet, but I want us to share a bed.”
“Why?” I shot back.
“Because we will be married,” he said simply.
I scowled and bit back the retort rising in my throat. He went to the closet and put down the large suitcase he’d carried from the plane. I crossed the room and pulled aside the drapes to reveal a large window seat and a view of the marsh. The sun poured in through the glass, dappling my face in a warm glow, and I closed my eyes.
“I bought you a few things until we can have yours sent here,” he said. “Basic clothes and toiletries.”
I snapped my eyes open, fixing my gaze on him. He was taking off his coat and hanging it up. Despite myself, I couldn’t help but run my eyes over my fiancé. He was handsome and he had a powerful, masculine body. His white shirt hugged his abdominal muscles as he moved, tightening over his shoulders.
My nipples hardened beneath my coat and I internally scolded myself for letting my body react to him. He wasn’t a good man—he’d been happy to take me away and force me into a marriage I didn’t want. I had no business giving him the time of day, much less letting myself think about his body. No matter how attractive it might be…God, it really was nice to look at.
“Go through your things and put them away,” he said, setting the suitcase down on the bed. “Security will be here any minute and I need to go over the perimeters with them.”
Shaking myself from my reverie, I watched him leave the room. Silence reigned for a long moment and then I heard the rush of someone coming up the driveway and the distant rumble of voices and car doors slamming. Viktor’s security team was here.
I slipped out of my coat and jacket and crawled onto the window seat to look out. There was a man in a black suit walking along the edge of the marsh. He looked like pictures I’d seen of the Secret Service, big and bulky with wraparound sunglasses on. A little shiver went down my spine as I watched him.
Tearing myself from the window, I padded barefoot to the bed and began pulling clothes from the suitcase. There were a few pairs of stretchy jeans, socks, a half dozen sets of underwear and bras, t-shirts, and sweaters. It was all very practical and I found I liked that. Viktor must have asked someone my sizes and what I preferred to wear. Thinking about him taking the time to make sure I had the proper clothes stirred something in me. Maybe he wasn’t as horrible as I’d imagined.
I showered in the bathroom just off the master bedroom. There was a basket of skincare products and makeup on the sink, along with a single red and white rose in a glass. The sight gave me pause and I picked it up, lifting it to my nose and breathing in. The housekeeper must have left it earlier. Or perhaps Viktor had it left for me as a welcome gift. The thought made my heart pump a little faster.
After I dressed in jeans, a sweater, and sneakers, I climbed down the staircase. The front door was open, but the second glass door was shut, and I could see Viktor standing at the edge of the driveway. He had a cigarette in his fingers and he was pacing back and forth, talking on the phone.
“Are you hungry, Sienna?”
I turned and there was a slender, white haired woman with light skin and friendly, blue eyes in the hallway. She wore cropped pants and a sweatshirt with embroidered flowers on the chest and sensible flat shoes. There was something comforting about her sky blue eyes that eased the lingering sense of displacement in my chest.
“Yes, I’m starving,” I admitted.
“Here, come on then,” she said briskly. “I’ve made some breakfast. I’m Brenda, by the way.”
I followed her back down the hall and into the kitchen. On the island counter sat a tray of open faced sandwiches made with thin shavings of meat and fish. There was a platter of some kind of potato patty and a stack of cheesy pancakes. My forehead scrunched as I gazed down at the food, unsure what it was but too afraid of offending Brenda to ask outright.
“It’s what Mr. Borisyuk likes for breakfast,” she explained.
“Mr. Borisyuk?” I asked, looking around.
She looked surprised and then her face cleared. “Oh, I suppose you’d know him as Mr. Anatole. He goes by Viktor Anatole when he’s in America, but his full name is Sevastyan Viktor Anatole Borisyuk. It’s just a bit of a mouthful when he’s dealing with English speakers, so he shortens it.”
“Oh,” I said surprised. “He didn’t tell me that.”
There was a long, awkward silence and then Brenda began rummaging in the cupboards. I leaned against the counter, a little overwhelmed. So I would be Mrs. Borisyuk tomorrow. The name sounded so strange, so bulky and harsh, that it sent a shiver down my spine. Loneliness welled in my chest and I blinked furiously, but not fast enough to conceal my tears from the motherly woman before me.
“Oh dear, don’t cry,” she said, pulling out a chair. “I know it’s a lot to take in, but I’ll be here if you need a shoulder to cry on. I’m Viktor’s housekeeper.”
“Sorry,” I said, wiping my tears furiously. “I was just feeling a little sad for a minute there. I’m okay.”
Brenda slid a plate of the potato patties and a generous dollop of sour cream in front of me. She poured a steaming cup of coffee and pushed it into my hands. I accepted it gratefully, breathing in the familiar comforting scent. It reminded me of my adolescence, sipping espresso on the porch while I painted the birds and flowers in the backyard.
“Drink up, it’ll help you feel better. I imagine you’re just overtired,” she said, patting my hand. “And I heard what happened with your outfit. I’m sure it was a lot for you to have to go through.”
Oddly enough, seeing Lucien kill the former boss hadn’t bothered me all that much. I’d grown up with my father returning late at night, his hands and shirt soaked in blood. He’d been shot three different times, appearing on our doorstep, bleeding out and begging for my mother to call an ambulance. No, mob violence didn’t bother me.
What really bothered me was my impending wedding. I glanced up, leaning forward to peer down the hallways and out the front door. Viktor stood, looking annoyingly handsome, on the stairs. He put his cigarette to his lips and released a cloud of smoke as he said something to the tall blond man who seemed to follow him everywhere. They both laughed.