“But why is it in my house?” he asks sourly.
I stand and meet his challenge head-on. Well, as head-on as I can get considering I come up to his chest. Our stare off attracts the attention of Eris, who jumps up and paws at Daniil’s Gucci-clad leg. I nearly burst out laughing from the expression of horror on his face.
“It’s ashe, actually. Her name is Eris. And she’s here because she’s mine. I adopted her today.”
“Out of the question.” His jaw snaps together, teeth grinding as often happens when he’s irritated. But I won’t back down.
Taking in a lungful of air, I steel my spine. “Oh, it was never a question. I didn’t ask because I’m a grown-ass woman. I don't need your permission. This is my dog, not yours.”
“This dog is not staying here, and that’s final.”
Through narrowed eyes, I take in Daniil’s hardened expression. He’s an asshole of the highest order, and I don’t know why I ever thought differently. A storm rages behind his eyes; he’s as stubborn as I am.
He advances on me, and although I want to hold my ground, when a mountain of a man comes close, it is only natural to retreat. He seems to enjoy this game, the one where he uses nonverbal forms of intimidation to get his way, but I’m not having it.
Clearing my throat, I use the strongest voice I’m capable of. “If you kick Eris out, you kick me out.”
He’s on me before I can stop him, pushing me back into the breakfast bar. He holds the back of my neck and forces me to look up at him. Magnetic whisky eyes meet mine, and I’m suddenly aware of how big and powerful he feels against me.
Jesus, what is happening?
As if he can sense how he is affecting me, his attention lowers to my pulse hammering in my throat. My breaths are shallow and too quick. I swear, he doesn’t miss that either. Nor has he released me from his grasp.
“Explain the dog to me,” he commands, this time his tone is less biting.
“I got Eris to keep me company.”
His eyebrows pull together and for a moment he looks… shattered. He tilts my chin up until I meet his gaze. Now his mouth is dangerously close to mine, so close our breath intermingles.
“I don’t want a dog in my house.” His jaw tightens, and he looks at a point far in the distance before his eyes return to my own. “But I also don’t want you to be lonely.”
He’s so close, holding me in a way that doesn’t feel aggressive anymore, it feels like something else entirely. I draw in a breath and try to convince myself that the crazy beat of my heart is from the fight alone, not from his hand cupping the back of my neck or the way his eyes dance when my tongue darts out to moisten my lips. I try to wiggle out of his grasp, but he stops me. His skin blazes against mine, and I’m so painfully aware of his presence—his jawline sharp as an arrow, and that masculine scent of his, spicy and musky with a hint of sweet underneath.
“Your dog pissed on the floor.”
What!?
Mikhail leans casually against the far wall, pointing to a puddle on the tumbled-stone kitchen floor.
“Eris, no!” I yell, although it’s hardly the dog’s fault she had to relieve herself in the corner. That blame sits squarely on my shoulders. I break free from Daniil’s grasp and get some paper towels to mop up the mess.
“Chto za chert,” Daniil grinds out as he and Mikhail talk in rapid-fire Russian, likely arguing over why Mikhail allowed me to get the dog in the first place. The poor man had no choice. I threatened to tell Daniil he’s smoking cigarettes again if he didn’t keep his mouth shut. Apparently, it’s a point of contention.
Scooping up Eris, I brush past the men and head out to the terrace where I’ve set up a little potty training spot for the pup. New York is lively at dusk as the setting sun glints off the water below and the Brooklyn Bridge fills with both humans-on-foot and car traffic. After living in Miami for most of my life, New York is a revelation. But living here feels like I’m only a bystander, observing it from high above rather than as an active participant.
As I settle into one of the outdoor lounge chairs, watching Eris rambunctiously rip up one of her toys, Daniil steps outside. I can feel his eyes roving over me from his post by the door.
“Why did you name the dog after the goddess of chaos?”
Goddammit. How does this man know about Greek mythology?
“Because.” I gaze towards the horizon, a breeze rustling my hair. “It’s an analogy for my life, isn’t it? Chaos, strife, discord.”
He runs his hands through his thick, messy hair, his features hardening. “It doesn’t have to be that way.”
If he only knew.
“Whatever you say.” I release a heavy sigh, not wanting to continue this pointless conversation. “Why are you home so early?”