I had caught Viktor’s looks throughout dinner and it made me wonder at his thoughts. Not for the first time, I wished I could read his mind. His face let barely any glimmer of whatever he was thinking or feeling through. It was super frustrating, but I supposed it wasn’t going to change anytime soon.

That was just Viktor.

Once I was in my room, I looked at the various things I had in the closet, purchased at Viktor’s request through an online store. Most of it was all for comfort, since even at the earliest stages I had known that he wasn’t going to let me walk around downtown in clubwear or anything like that.

I looked past the yoga pants, leggings, and jeans and grabbed my favorite black, silk sleep shorts. It wasn’t part of a matched set, so I grabbed the next best thing – a super soft white v-neck T-shirt, that was more transparent than solid. Normally I would go without a bra, but since Viktor was apparently trying to keep his distance, I figured that was tempting fate and asking for it. I went to grab the nude cotton bra that I sometimes slept in, but somehow my fingers landed on a black lacy number that I just couldn’t pass up. It was the type of bra you only wore when you wanted someone to see it and I knew it would make Viktor angry.

As I was clasping the back band, I wondered to myself why I liked to see Viktor angry, frustrated, anything. Perhaps I liked testing his famous control, even if it was just for a second. I liked to see the real him, not the face that he put on for the mafia and even his friends. He couldn’t be that calm and collected all the time, and I enjoyed those little glimpses that I got when he was irritated with me. Which, to be fair, seemed like all the time right now.

When I headed downstairs, I found my heart beating just a little bit faster and my breath a little shallower. Noises drifted to me from a room that I hadn’t even been in yet, and I followed them to a reclaimed barn door that hung on horizontal tracks. When I slid it open, I gasped in wonder.

It was a theater. Well, a theater room at least. It had a big projection screen and six sets of loveseats with cup-holders. There was even a little popcorn machine and a soda fountain on a granite countertop. Viktor was already inside, lounging reclined back in one of the red leather seats. He was just looking at me, his eyes staring through me.

“You haven’t been here before,” he asked me, clearly surprised that I hadn’t taken a grand tour of his home while he wasn’t there.

I shook my head. “You seemed like a private person so I figure you wouldn’t like me to go exploring without you.”

“So you stayed in your room the whole time?”

I felt my face flush. “I didn’t say that. I just didn’t push open closed doors.”

In more ways than one.

He considered that answer, accepted it. Then his gaze skimmed over me; noticing the thin fabric of my top, seeing the shadow of the lace bra beneath it, and wandering down my black silky shorts to my bare thighs and legs. He stopped at my bare feet with their pink manicured toes.

His voice was tight when he finally said, “You look… comfortable.”

I smiled, enjoying the rough edge of his voice. His control was beginning to slip, and I took a perverse pride in being the cause. “I am. Looks like you are, too. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you like this.”

He really did look comfortable, a look that I hadn’t seen him in. He was wearing black athletic shorts and a white cotton shirt. Unlike mine, his was not transparent (unfortunately) so I couldn’t see his toned body underneath, but I knew it was there. He couldn’t hide the biceps and toned calves that weren’t covered up by material, and it was all I could do to look away and pretend like I didn’t just want to stare at him for the duration of whatever movie we were going to watch.

I walked over to his chair and dropped into the other half of the loveseat. “What are we watching?”

He showed me the BluRay discs that were stacked next to his chair. “I grabbed three.”

I looked over them, vaguely remembering all three titles but not having actually seen any of them. I wished I was more intellectual about my choice, but I ended up picking the one with the hottest guy on the cover.

Viktor raised an eyebrow at me. The movement made the thin scar on the side of his face jump. “Really?”

How red was my face? “What, you don’t like romantic comedies?” I blinked innocently, but we both knew that he would have chosen something different.

His lips twisted in a smirk. “Okay, printsessa. It’s your date.” He paused at the sound of his own words, his mouth flattening into a grim line with… what, regret?

My date. Our date. We were on a date?

The idea distracted me as he put the disc in the player before returning to his seat beside me.

“Just know,” he said in a low voice, leaning into my personal space, “I’m available for hand-holding if you need it.”

Was he joking? Teasing me? I gulped, trying to dislodge the bubble in my throat. Now I was even more distracted than before, and the first half-hour of the movie passed in silence.

Soon I became engrossed in watching the characters fight against falling in love.

Fools.

Viktor’s heat was almost a tangible companion, but he didn’t say anything when I brushed tears away from my face. I felt him watching me, but he stayed on his side of the loveseat. His hands, resting on the couch beside his thighs, curled into fists at one point. During a particularly intimate scene, I felt a pulse thrumming deep in my belly, and Viktor actually wedged his hands under his thighs.

He might have that much control, but I definitely didn’t. His uniquely crisp, spicy scent surrounded me, filling my nostrils and holding me down like a weight. When he leaned back a little farther and put his elbows behind his head, I took the opportunity to lean back as well, dropping my head onto his shoulder.

It wasn’t the type of movie a person could watch and maintain distance. If I were being honest with myself—and him—that was one of the reasons I chose it. I wanted to snuggle and cuddle, something I’d yet to do with him. Right now it was a temptation too great to pass up.

I felt his body go tense when he felt shift against him, but he allowed it to happen. He kept his hands to himself, but mine dropped down to his flat abdomen. I resisted the urge to trace the lines of muscles underneath the soft cotton, which I considered to be a miraculous example of self-control. He was so warm, and just so… big, that it was difficult to think about the movie when he was so close.

I’d been so mad at him for keeping me here, but now all I could think about was that hotel room and what it had felt like to sleep next to him.

When the end credits started to roll, neither one of us made a move to get up. He was the first to speak. “I should get some work done before morning.”

My head lifted up. “What kind of work can you do this late at night?”

He looked back at me, humor in his eyes. “Almost all my work is done late at night, Anya.”

I scowled. “You’re not going to like… go kill someone are you?”

He rolled his eyes. “I do more than that, sweetheart. I have other things besides the mafia. I own property, investments, stock options.”

I hadn’t really thought of that before. He was obviously wealthy. I guess I’d never really considered the fact that he did things besides just being a hired thug for money. It did make sense. Clearly, after the book club, I now knew that he was smart. Like crazy smart, at least as far as Russian literature went.

“Can I go out tomorrow?” I asked, clasping my fingers together in a version of a prayer.

“No,” he said instantly. When he saw my frown, he said again, “No. Definitely not. I mean it, Anya.”

“But I’ll be careful. I’ll wear a hoodie. Or a mask. Anything,” I pleaded.

“This is not a negotiation. You will not leave here, and certainly not without my protection.”

I scoffed. I didn’t need his protection. I might be smaller than he was, and a woman, but I’d done a pretty good job of protecting myself this far in life. I told him so.

He laughed. “Is that what you call being married to a strange man that’s part of the Russian mafia?”

“Turns out, you’re not as strange as I thought. I’m a little disappointed,” I teased. His eyes wandered over my face, his own mouth mimicking the turn of my lips into a faint smile.

“I mean it, Anya. No. Leaving. “

I rolled my eyes at him. “Fine, nothing tomorrow. But the next day, we’ll have to talk about it. I can’t live here forever, not seeing anyone or doing anything.”

“I didn’t say that it was forever. It’s only for a little bit. Until this all dies down.”

He stood up and started to stretch. My eyes were drawn to the eight-pack abs partially revealed by the t-shirt that had ridden up. My mouth grew dry as my eyes roamed hungrily over his tanned skin. Finished, he dropped the shirt back down. If he’d caught my gaze on him, he didn’t say anything about it.

He offered me his hand and I grabbed it, letting him pull me up and out of the comfortable chair. Our bodies didn’t touch but they were close enough that my entire body sizzled with awareness of him being so close.

I didn’t know what it was about him that made every nerve in my body tingle, but it was amazingly consistent. Even if he was just in the same room with me, I was always aware of him, craving his touch, aching for him to touch any part of me.

“You should go to bed, Anya,” he said, soft and low. It almost sounded like a threat. His husky voice made something clench deep inside of me, but I forced a casual pose and tone.

“I’m going, I’m going.” I turned and offered him the view of my see-through shirt and black silk-covered booty. I felt his eyes on me but he didn’t say anything. I gave my hips a little extra wriggle when I walked out of the room, pretty sure that I heard a whispered Russian expletive right before I turned the corner.

Yes, I wanted him to lose control. Desperately.