It was her first trip to Malaysia. She should be excited, filled with the thrill of discovering and experiencing a new place and culture. But she wasn’t. She could only watch her husband tip-tapping away at the keys on his laptop, doing whatever business needed to be done before they landed. And ignoring her.

With nothing more than a simple nod since taking off, Vitali had completely put her from his mind. Her—his wife. The woman he’d fucked into oblivion that morning. The woman who couldn’t stop thinking about him, about putting her lips around his cock and making him groan. The woman who was pissed as hell about whoever the hell Lyuba was.

No, she didn’t speak fluent Russian, but she didn’t need to speak Russian to know that some woman named Lyuba was causing problems in Vitali’s business deal. And, from the tone of Vitali’s voice, and his carefully chosen words, Mariana would be a fool to think that there wasn’t something between her husband and this woman.

Petya appeared, dressed smartly in her uniform and name tag, handing her a glass of Captain Morgan and Coke, one of her favorite drinks. Mariana sipped it. It tasted like a big, fat burning nothing on her tongue. Jealousy made everything taste like shit. She should know—for years she’d let jealousy fuel her drive to succeed. She wanted what the white couple in the front pew of the church had—the big house, the fancy cars, the tailored clothes. They always looked so happy, always filled with whatever Mariana, the chubby, Latina didn’t have. And so, she worked her ass off in school, earned her law degree, passed the bar, got a job as a public defender, and then kicked serious ass in the higher profile cases. Finally…she was sitting at the top, in her 2,000 square-foot office, wearing her fancy clothes, looking at the keys to that fancy car… And it all felt meaningless. It took something Mia had said in passing to start the downward spiral that had led her to this moment.

“Got a man to share that brand-new bed of yours? Looks kind of empty…”

Mariana had recoiled—and not because of what Mia had said, but rather the truth that had pealed through her skull. That next morning, her penthouse apartment no longer looked like the luxurious prize she’d earned. It looked like the tomb she’d be buried in.

Vitali’s cell rang, pulling Mariana out of her self-imposed mind-fuck. Who was calling?

Shit. Back to the jealousy. The nausea, the chest pains, the uneasy feeling—yeah, jealousy sucked ass—as Mia would say.

And she had no reason to be jealous, not really. She’d only met Vitali three days ago. Yes, they were married, but she had no idea what kind of man she married. That’s one of the major downsides to marrying a complete stranger based on an application supplied to a bridal agency. Vitali could be a womanizing sleaze bag for all she knew. He could have lied about seeing her and wanting her from the very first moment. All of the bedroom acrobatics could have just been him blowing off some steam. She was a fool to think that a man like Vitali would be satisfied with a woman, inexperienced and far from the super model beauties a man like Vitali could get with a snap of his fingers. He could very well plan to keep some on the side for when he got bored with his plus-sized ball-n-chain.

Placing the unfinished drink on the table beside her, she let her gaze roam the cabin. She was in the same private jet she’d arrived in, but this time around, the cabin felt smaller, more suffocating. It was hard to breathe without inhaling the scent of musk and manhood that was Vitali’s signature scent. It was a heady scent that could make her drunk if she let it. And she wouldn’t. She was a strong, professional woman, a woman who had never let men come between her and what she wanted, and what she wanted right now was her husband’s undivided attention.

Still on his cell, Mariana knew she couldn’t just start talking to him, so, she did the next best thing; she unbuckled herself, unbuttoned her sporty black suit coat, and slowly slid it from her shoulders—the whole time, her gaze was riveted to Vitali.

As if sensing her intent, he looked up from his laptop screen for the first time, his gaze flying from her overheated, flushed face to where her hand was poised over the first button in her blouse.

Time to begin the show.

Taking a deep breath to fortify her nerves, she slipped the first button from its hole. Then the next. By the time she’d reached half way down, she could feel the tension wafting from Vitali, and the burning, hotter than lava gaze in his emerald eyes could scorch her…if she weren’t already on fire.

With a flick of his wrist, Vitali closed the lid to his laptop. In the next second, he hung up on whoever it was he was speaking with, and then stowed his cell phone in the pocket beside his seat. The man looked like a starving wolf, his entire face taut, nostrils flared, and lips pulled back from his teeth in a show of predatory menace.

Was it wrong that she liked him like that, that she liked him possessive, hungry—like an alpha beast zeroing in on his prey?

As if sensing their need for privacy, Petya entered the cockpit and closed the door behind her. Vitali unbuckled.

Mariana held her breath and watched, enraptured, as he extended his arm, flipped his hand over, and gestured for her to come to him. A single finger held all the power in the world in that moment.

Since when did you allow any man to beckon you? Since she began falling under his spell, that’s when! Still… Somewhat annoyed at his alpha bullshit she nearly scoffed at him and returned the motion—with a totally different finger. But she needed this, she needed him…and he was finally looking at her. Finally focusing on her. And that alone was empowering.

Maybe he’s actually putting business—and Lyuba—out of his mind.

Holding her breath, she slowly stood, then kicked her heels from her feet. Though the pilot was keeping the plane level, she felt as though she were walking through turbulence. Once she was standing before Vitali, staring down into his now dark green eyes, she realized her mistake: she thought she could tease the beast without consequences, but from the look of ravenous desire on his face, she knew she’d delivered herself up to be devoured.