Her body still singing from the amazing sex in the jet seat, Mariana didn’t really mind that Vitali ordered dinner to their room in the sky-high penthouse suite in the hotel in Kuala Lumpur. Every nerve hummed, every blood vein sang, and her heart couldn’t stop lurching every time she thought about riding Vitali’s cock while he nibbled her breasts.

Never in her life did she think she would join the Mile-High Club. She hid a grin and swallowed a giggle at the thought. Vitali chose that moment to stalk back into their bedroom after conferring with their personal butler about where they wanted dinner.

“I asked them to put the meal on the terrace,” he said without preamble, his expression about as empty as her stomach. “I figured that since this is your first time in Malaysia, you’d enjoy eating while looking out over the city.” He pulled off his coat and tossed it over the foot of the bed—it was both intimate and robotic.

His thoughtfulness warmed her, and she smiled. “Thank you. That sounds wonderful.”

He returned her smile, but his expression remained guarded. Her excitement about sharing a meal with her husband and experiencing Malaysia for the first time with him died in a blink. A lodestone dropped into her belly.

“Good.” He pulled a fresh coat from the armoire—someone must’ve unpacked his luggage—and pulled it on over his impressive biceps, covering his hard, broad chest. She almost mewled in distress. “I am expected at a meeting in thirty minutes,” he said off-hand, as if he didn’t just gut her and rob her of the happiness she’d been nursing since her orgasm.

That nausea that had cursed her during the first part of their flight to Malaysia returned full force, and she swallowed down the bile that rose into her throat.

This shouldn’t bother you. He never promised to be a good husband. No, he’d only went on about desiring her for two years, screwed her until she was mindless, and then switched from sexy orgasm god to cold, business-like billionaire.

Suck it up, Mariana. This is what you signed up for.

The heat of her anger sizzled beneath the bitterness of her jealousy and the frustration at herself and her weakness for the tall, gorgeous Russian.

Shrugging, she met his gaze with her patented attorney gaze—one that was as hard as it was flat. She’d be damned if she let him know how much his abandonment bothered her. And besides, they were only in Asia for his business. She had no right to be angry that he was leaving to see to that business.

But she couldn’t get her heart to listen.

“That’s fine,” she said. “I’ll see you later.” Without a backward glance, Mariana sashayed from the room, ignoring the pricking of humiliation invading her chest.

He felt like shit. He wanted to tell Gregor to turn the car around so he could go back to Mariana and wipe the hurt from her face, but that ugly, harsh voice in his head kept badgering him, reminding him that his first priority was Trans-Global Corporation. That Mariana was nothing more than a way to scratch an itch…an itch that had been plaguing him since he’d spied her in that courtroom, her hair pinned back in a prim bun, her skirt tight, her coat unbuttoned, her face lit up with the fire of confidence, daring, and passion. Seeing her like that had turned him inside out. It was that Mariana he wanted.

Now that he had her, he didn’t know what the hell to do with her.

She too much woman for you? That hideous voice hissed in his mind, making every point of pride prickle against the onslaught. No. She wasn’t too much woman for him, she was all the woman he would ever need. And he would do whatever it took to keep her. Expect sacrifice his business deal.

But…the memory of the pain in her cocoa eyes made the recesses around his heart fill with something that smacked of regret. He despised regret. Regret only ever led to poor decisions, guilt, and one hell of a hangover.

Mariana’s lovely expressive face flashed through his mind, striking at him like a ballistic missile, aimed squarely at his intentions. She’d tried to hide it behind a curtain of careless chill—like an experienced attorney going in for the kill, but he’d seen—the merest glimpse—of her disappointment. Her dejection. And the loss of the smoldering heat that had been burning in her gaze since they’d brought each other to mind-melting orgasm in the jet.

I made a mistake, the thought blasted through his mind, and the ache in his chest grew ten-fold. But it was too late. Gregor pulled the car up to the hotel where Lyuba and the other members of the legal team were holed up, licking their wounds and waiting for the hammer to fall. A hammer he was bringing with him.

He was on the elevator before he knew what he was doing, his hands fisted at his sides, his chest tight. Tension sent ripples of apprehension through his body, but that only bolstered his determination to kick Lyuba to the curb, hand the Malaysia deal to Milos, and get back to his wife—whom he’d left quite angry and disappointed in their $5,000 per night suite.

Closing his eyes, he imagined Mariana. Before he’d left, she’d been dressed in a light, flowing sundress bedecked with embroidered roses and bees. It was a frilly dress; not one he’d expect to see draped over the luscious curves of a kick ass lawyer, but…somehow it only emphasized Mariana’s delicate beauty.

“Damn,” he cursed, his cock, once again, threatening to rip the seams of his tailored slacks. He needed to get his libido under control or else he’d have a boner in front of Lyuba, give her the wrong idea, and then spend the next year trying to rid himself of her. More than anything, he wanted the break with his best attorney and second best lover to be as clean and neat as possible. If she allowed it to be so. A niggling sensation at the back of his neck told him that he was walking into an ugly situation.

Pulling his shoulders back, he waited for the elevator doors to open on the 27^th floor, then strode from the lift and down the hall to the suite Lyuba had reserved for her own use during the business trip.

Upon reaching room 2743, he used the keycard provided by Gregor, turned the knob and entered, not bothering to knock and announce himself. Lyuba was dressed in her usual suit and severe expression, and was seated on the couch, her laptop and a stack of files spread out around her.

He could tell by the stiffening in her shoulders that she knew he was there, but she didn’t look up. Didn’t bother acknowledging his presence. It grated. She was the reason he’d shortened his honeymoon. She was the reason he was in her suite instead of his own, with a wife who was quickly losing patience with him.

Dammit.

“Lyuba, we need to talk about this mess. What the hell were you thinking refusing the board members—of the company we’re trying to acquire—a chance to review the contract?”

She finally looked up at him, her iron hard expression in place. He hated that look; he could never tell what she was thinking. And that was dangerous.

She cocked an eyebrow and sighed, pushing her laptop off her lap and onto the couch beside her—acting as if he was the imposition. As if his being there was disrupting her day.

Fuck that.

“What the hell is going on with you, Lyuba?” he asked, planting his fists on his hips, the urge to reach out and shake her nigh impossible to ignore.

“What bothers you more, the fact that I pushed the board members a little too hard, or the fact that I cut your personal business in Moscow short?” The sharpness in her voice told him she knew more than she should about his personal business. Damn Milos! The man couldn’t keep a secret if his life depended on it. Just another fucking thing he’d have to deal with when all he wanted to do was strip Mariana bare and kiss every inch of her body.

Crossing his arms over his chest, Vitali refused to rise to Lyuba’s bait. She wanted him to lose his cool, to get riled—she liked it when he was riled, because they often had the best sex when they were both wound up. But not this time. This time he was wound up, but not for Lyuba—because of Lyuba.

“You knew this deal was necessary to open doors in the Asian agricultural innovations market. If you can’t handle the pressure, step aside. I will not have you ruin my business just to get back at me for some perceived slight. My business is not a toy,” he said, his voice clipped.

Lyuba’s brightly painted red lips flattened into a line, turning her once beautiful face into a grimacing mask of simmering anger.

But then that iron expression slammed down over her face once again, and she stood, coming around the coffee table to stand before him. Before he could stop her, she reached up and slid the palms of her hands over his chest. A groan rose from her throat.

“Vitali…it hurts me that you would think so little of me,” she purred, and he grabbed her wrists, pulling her hands from his body. Her touch made his skin crawl. Her eyes narrowed, the blue in them turning to glittering ice. “You used to enjoy my touch…” she murmured. “Who is she?” The acid in her voice made her sound like a snake readying to strike.

“None of your concern,” he snapped, his desire to protect Mariana from Lyuba’s venom like a vice around his chest. Not that Mariana couldn’t hold her own against Lyuba… He just wanted to protect her, to keep her safe. It was a wholly new sensation for him. Warmth spread out from the aching hollows in his chest, and he gasped at the truth that began whispering through his mind: “You care about Mariana…”

It was time to put aside the guilt over his breakup with Lyuba. It was time to stop letting the fear and shadows swirling in his mind control what he said and did. He was a fucking billionaire—shaped and sharpened by his choices. And the best choice he’d ever made was to step into Mariana’s courtroom two years ago.

Sharpening his focus—and his determination to get back to his wife—he announced, “As of this moment, consider yourself terminated.” At her gasp, he dropped her wrists and stepped back, putting space between them, lessening the roiling in his belly from their nearness. “I will provide a severance that will cover your expenses here, your flight home, and six months’ pay. After that, you will be completely cut off from Trans-Global and from me.” And good riddance.

Without a backward glance, he turned and left the room—and his greatest mistake—behind him. A burning, pulsing brightness seemed to beam from within him, and the smile it formed on his face made his cheeks ache.

Mariana was waiting for him…and so was the future he hadn’t known he wanted until his past was finally laid to rest. As relief filled him, lifting him like an invisible flock of birds, he strode down the hall to Milos’s suite.

He had one more thing to deal with before he could focus on what was truly important.