Chapter 40: Devil’s Lair: Chapter 40

I don’t sleep well. At all. Who would, with that kind of warning?

Sleep well tonight—you’ll need it.

I can’t think of anything Nikolai could’ve said that would’ve been less likely to make me get my zzzs. He might as well have told me that he intends to fuck me to exhaustion as soon as he returns home.

Actually, he did tell me that, more or less, before he left. His dirty promises have provided ample fodder for my wet dreams and shower masturbation sessions—including the lengthy one after our call last night.

I figured a couple of orgasms might relax me, but they actually made things worse. The entire time I played with myself, I kept thinking of what he’ll do to me when he returns… how his hands and lips will feel on me… how his cock will feel inside me. My imagination went wild, painting all sorts of X-rated, non-PC scenarios, and they’re still playing in my mind now, in the bright light of the morning, dampening my underwear and keeping my pulse racing.

It doesn’t help that Alina is again nowhere to be seen. She doesn’t come down for breakfast or lunch, and when I ask Lyudmila about that, she tells me Nikolai’s sister has another headache.

“Does she get these a lot?” I ask at lunch, concerned, and Lyudmila nods, her face tight as she averts her eyes.

I wonder about that, but Lyudmila isn’t exactly chatty around me, so I decide against questioning her further. Instead, I spend the afternoon teaching Slava and counting down the minutes until dinnertime, which is when Nikolai is expected to arrive.

My student is equally impatient. Lyudmila must’ve told him that his father is coming back today because he keeps jumping up and running over to the window as we’re reviewing the alphabet.

“Do you want to surprise your daddy?” I ask when he returns from his expedition for the fifth time. “Make him happy?”

Slava’s brows furrow. “Happy?”

“Yes, happy.” I draw a smiling face with a yellow crayon. “Do you want your daddy to be happy?”

He nods, plopping down on the floor next to me.

“Then repeat after me: ‘Hi, Daddy.’”

Slava is silent. He knows both of those words from the books we’ve been reading, and he’s been repeating phrases after me when I request it, so I know it’s not a comprehension issue.

Gently, I try again. “Hi, Daddy.”

He stares at his sneakers. “Hi, Daddy.” His voice is barely above a whisper, but the words are clear, as is the wariness in his large golden eyes when he lifts his gaze.

He’s hesitant, and I can’t blame him. Despite the small bit of progress we made with our joint reading session the other day, father and son are still virtual strangers.

I reach over to take his hands in mine. “I’m very proud of you. You’re being brave and strong, like Superman.”

His small face brightens. “Superman?”

“Superman,” I confirm, squeezing his hands gently before releasing them. “Brave and strong.”

“Brave and strong,” he whispers, trying out the words. He points at his chest. “Brave and strong?”

I beam at him. “Yes, you are brave and strong, just like Superman. And you’ll make your daddy very happy.”

He gives me a big grin. “Happy, yes.” He points at the smiley face drawing and puffs out his thin chest. “Very happy.”

He’s so adorable that I can’t resist giving him a hug, and my heart melts when his short arms go around my neck, squeezing tightly. This, here, is why I love children so much. All they want is love and affection, and once they have it, they return it in spades.

Nikolai doesn’t understand that about his son yet, but he will.

It’s just a matter of time and a little effort on my part.

An hour before dinner, I leave Slava with Lyudmila and go to my room to change and get ready. I’m so excited and nervous I can barely keep my hands from shaking as I apply my makeup and smooth my hair into a semblance of the polished waves Alina was able to create for me. If she were feeling well, I’d ask her to repeat her magic, but since I haven’t seen her at any point this afternoon, I have to assume she’s still down with the headache.

Poor girl. I hope she feels better soon.

Once my hair and makeup are done, I flip through my ridiculously large collection of evening dresses to find the absolute best one. Without Nikolai here, I’ve been grabbing whichever one seems most comfortable and easiest to put on, but tonight, I want to put in extra effort.

I want to see his breath catch and his eyes kindle with that dark, savage heat that both excites and alarms me.

I settle on a delicate ivory gown that has subtle threads of gold woven in. Made of some diaphanous material, it’s strapless, with a heart-shaped, corseted bodice that pushes up my breasts and defines my waist. The form-fitting skirt skims over my hips in the most flattering manner imaginable, and when I walk, a thigh-high slit on the left side reveals flashes of my leg. I pair the dress with the gold Jimmy Choos I wore on my first formal evening here, and I’m ready.

Ready to see Nikolai and take our relationship further.

The car pulls up as I’m coming down the stairs. I catch a glimpse of it in one of the large windows, and my heart beats faster. Lyudmila and Slava are already standing in the living room, with the boy dressed in his evening best. As I approach, he smiles up at me shyly, and I give him an encouraging shoulder squeeze.

“Remember, brave and strong, like Superman,” I whisper, trying to control my own nervousness, and he giggles—only to fall silent at the sound of the front door opening, followed by footsteps heading in our direction.

Pavel appears first, but his house-sized frame barely registers in my vision. All my attention is on the tall, darkly beautiful man behind him, whose tiger-bright gaze homes in on me with an intensity that scorches my flesh and stills my lungs.

In the span of the past couple of days, I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be near him, to experience the devastating impact of his presence. I don’t just see him, I feel him with every inch of my skin, every cell of my being. Helplessly, my eyes trace over his features, taking in the uncompromising angles of his jaw and the sensuous shape of his lips, the startling thickness of his jet-black lashes and the way his raven’s wing hair is brushed back from his forehead, revealing those high, wide cheekbones. He’s dressed more casually than when he left, with a blue button-up shirt tucked into tailored slacks, and he looks so mouthwateringly hot that it’s all I can do to remain standing. My heart races, my entire body buzzing as if a network of live wires resides under my skin, and I’m only peripherally aware of Lyudmila stepping up to embrace her husband while chattering excitedly in Russian.

Nikolai must be caught in the same potent spell because for a long moment, he stands still, eyes glittering as he takes in my appearance.

Then he comes toward me.

Breathless, I stare up at him as he stops in front of me. He’s so much more up close than on a computer screen. Bigger, taller… more dangerously, primitively male. With his seductive charm and fine clothes, it’s possible to forget that raw, animal quality he possesses, the sense that something feral lurks underneath his beautiful façade… something that draws me to him even as it makes the fine hair on the back of my neck stand up in warning.

At a distance, it was easy to dismiss my imaginings about him being dangerous.

Up close, it’s infinitely harder.

“Hi, Daddy.”

The sound of that small, high-pitched voice jolts me out of my trance—and it has an even stronger effect on Nikolai. Every muscle on his face tightens as his gaze jumps to the boy standing bravely at my side.

For a moment, father and son just stare at each other. Then Nikolai slowly goes down on one knee.

“Hi,” he says hoarsely as a medley of emotions plays across his face. “Hi, Slavochka.”

My heart clenches with a surge of warmth. That version of the boy’s name is an endearment; I’ve heard enough Russian over the past few days to know that.

Slava smiles uncertainly at his father before looking up at me.

“You did good,” I say huskily, smoothing my palm over his silky hair. “Just like Superman.” Smiling, I catch Nikolai’s gaze. “Tell him he did well.”

His face twists, something dark and agonizing flashing in his eyes before he regains control. “You did well,” he says to the boy tonelessly, and rising to his feet, he steps back, his expression shuttered once more.

Confused, I start to speak, but he beats me to it.

“I need to talk to you,” he tells me in a hard voice, and taking my hand in an inescapable grip, he leads me to his office.