The Bastard's Bargain by Katee Robert (5)

Keira skipped dinner. She mostly did it to see what Dmitri would do, but other than a gruff Pavel conveying that they’d reschedule at a later date, nothing had happened. She laid low for two full days to give Dmitri a false sense of security before she started losing it. Her rooms were big enough to live in and never leave, but she was bored out of her goddamn mind and she could only sleep so much. Best she could tell, this building took up the greater part of a city block. Plenty of places to hide bodies.

Not that Romanov would ever be crass enough to commit murder in his own home. He was too savvy for that. He wasn’t the type to get his hands dirty unnecessarily, though he must have at one point or he wouldn’t be head of the family.

She layered up in a tank top and cardigan thing and a different pair of jeans and went exploring. There wasn’t anyone stationed outside her room, but she didn’t think for a second that she could walk out of here without some kind of tail attached. If they even let her leave at all.

No, Romanov wasn’t that different from her brothers after all.

The hallway twisted strangely, and she wondered again who had decided that converting old apartments was a good way to go about building a freaking mansion in New York. Someone with something to prove.

The second floor was consigned to guest rooms. After the third door opened into one decorated similarly to hers, she gave up and went to the stairs. Dmitri’s study was on the first floor, and she wasn’t ready to face him again. Keira wasn’t sure who gained the point for the win in their last conversation. He’d agreed to let her train and not to force her, but…she hadn’t really thought he’d force her to begin with. If he was the kind of man to do that shit, it would have already happened. She’d sure as hell put herself in vulnerable positions with him over and over again.

They would have sex. It was a given—had been a given since the moment she set eyes on him.

Keira stopped at the top of the stairs and tried to picture how the hell that would go. She wasn’t a virgin. Far from it. But Dmitri wasn’t some blitzed guy in the back of a club. He was…a different animal altogether. He’d touched her once in the backseat of his town car, and the look on his face hadn’t been controlled or locked down. He’d seemed half a second from taking her right then and there.

And then he’d shut it all down.

Would holding out drive him into a frenzy?

She shivered, her skin prickling at the thought. It didn’t matter what Dmitri wanted. He wouldn’t force her, and she’d be damned before she traded away her only advantage before she was good and ready to.

No matter how sexy the Russian was.

Determined to put it out of her mind, she moved down the hallway. It was shorter than the one on the second floor, broken up only by two closed doors and ending in a third. Keira poked her head into the first. Her stomach did a slow flip at the sight of the crib positioned in the corner. She stepped into the dim room, taking in the rocking chair sitting at an angle to the crib, the changing table on the other side of that. The other half of the wide room was devoted to the next age group up. There was a teepee with pillows scattered inside it, a low bookshelf with kid-appropriate board books, and even an easel with tiny paints and colored pencils. All of it untouched as if just waiting for a child.

Her child.

She pressed her hand to her stomach. She wasn’t even sure she wanted kids. Fuck, she was only twenty-one. If she did want them, she didn’t want them now. She’d been sober all of a few days. Hot mess did not begin to cover the shit show that was her life.

This nursery wasn’t something Dmitri had set up—of that, she was sure. It had the feeling of love, even tenderness. The sheets in the crib and the pillows were new, but the books had creases in their spines where they’d been read repeatedly, and there was a person-sized dent in the seat of the rocking chair.

Was this…Dmitri’s nursery? As in the one he’d grown up in?

She spun on her heel and marched out of the room. The concept of Dmitri as a child freaked her the fuck out, and she didn’t like how strange she felt when she pictured him there. Maybe it had been set up for his niece? The fact that Dmitri’s half sister Olivia and her daughter were now living with Cillian O’Malley was just one more thorn in Romanov’s side. Hadley had the look of her uncle. It wasn’t any particular feature, but sometimes she got a calculating expression on her face that screamed Dmitri. I bet he was a little shit when he was a kid.

She stepped into the hallway and shut the door behind her. It was only then that she realized she wasn’t alone. “Don’t you have something better to do than skulk around here?”

Dmitri raised his brows. “I’m not skulking.”

“You are the very definition of skulking.” She jerked a thumb over her shoulder. “Didn’t anyone tell you that nurseries are creepy as fuck? I bet it’s haunted.”

If anything, his amusement deepened. “I have it on the best of authority that there are no resident spirits in the nursery—or elsewhere.”

She tried to picture Dmitri hiring a supernatural expert and failed. “What did you do? Bring in a ghost hunter to exorcise this place? Because it’s actually a really good idea. Think I could hire one to take care of the O’Malley house? There are definitely some bad vibes there.” She realized that it wouldn’t matter if those bad vibes were gone, because she’d never be going back, and wilted. Damn it, no. I am not some princess who was tricked into captivity. I chose this. And no one can keep me against my will.

Dmitri turned and moved to the door just down the hall from the nursery. “Give me some credit. If I were going to exorcise anything, I’d hire a priest.”

“How very orthodox of you.” She followed him, drawn closer as if he’d attached a magnet around her middle. Or lower.

He looked more relaxed today than she’d ever seen him. His dark hair was slightly rumpled, as if he’d run his hands through it, his dark gray shirt unbuttoned two more than normal. Not that she noticed how far up he buttoned his shirts. That would be the height of insanity. His lips quirked in something of a mocking smile. “You like what you see.”

“You’re not ugly. Stop pretending you don’t know it. No one likes a pretty person who fishes for compliments.”

“Ah, but it’s different when it’s my wife complimenting me.” He practically purred the words.

Keira opened her mouth to tell him to shove right off, but reconsidered. What was that saying? Catch more flies with honey or some shit? She smiled sweetly. “I’m going to begin Krav Maga lessons next week. Find me a suitable gym by then.” She hesitated and forced out, “Please.”

“Of course. I have one already in the process of being prepared.”

In the process of being prepared. She wasn’t going to touch that with a ten-foot pole. She hesitated when Dmitri walked into the second room, but curiosity got the better of her, and she followed.

The master suite.

She walked straight to the bed and peered up. It was massive. The bed itself was bigger than a king size, but what caught her attention was the canopy that was a good ten feet off the mattress. It looked like a place where giants slept, rather than a mere man. “Tell me the truth—you wait until all your good little Russian men have gone to bed and then you jump on this thing, don’t you?”

“Guilty.”

She shot him a look, but his expression was serious. Keira shook her head. “Everyone’s a comedian.” She poked the white down comforter and then ran her fingers down the sheer fabric of the canopy. It looked like something out of some fallen angel’s daydream…until she pictured Dmitri in the middle of it, naked and looking at her like the very devil.

Heat crept up her chest to her cheeks. She turned away and practically ran to the bathroom. It wasn’t any better. She couldn’t look at that shower with its clear tiles without picturing the water sluicing down Dmitri’s body, or examine the claw-foot tub without thinking about him there, his head back and eyes closed. The closet didn’t grant her a damn bit of a reprieve. Suits lined half of the space, each more expensive than the next, and it smelled of him. Dark and spicy and tempting.

The other half of the closet was empty.

Waiting for her things.

She couldn’t deal with that any more than she could deal with the fact that Dmitri’s presence was imprinted on this very space. “I’m keeping my room.”

“For now.” He said it the same way he’d said that he wouldn’t force her—as if it was already decided.

As if she’d be there one way or another—sooner, rather than later.

As if he was so fucking sure he’d get his way.

That knowledge, more than anything else, drove her to step closer to him. She didn’t touch him, but she closed the distance until she had to lean back to look into his face. “Dmitri.”

“Da?”

Was it her imagination, or had his voice gotten a little hoarse? She reached up and ran her fingers up the fabric above the top button. Her knuckles brushed the tanned skin just below the dip at the bottom of his throat. Oh yes, he definitely is holding his breath. Keira inhaled deeply as if breathing for both of them, taking his dark, spicy scent into her lungs. She had to be careful, or she’d have traded in one addiction for another. Getting close to this man was dangerous.

It didn’t change the fact that she wanted him.

If anything, his being dangerous made her want him more.

She went up onto her tiptoes, so close that if he moved his head a fraction of an inch, he would have kissed her. “I’m keeping my room.” Keira dropped back down to her feet and turned on her heel. She made it a grand total of three steps before his arm snaked around her waist and pulled her back against a chiseled chest. “You’re teasing me, moya koroleva.”

She tried not to notice how he dwarfed her. Dmitri didn’t look particularly huge, but this close, he felt like a fucking giant. It was everything she could do not to press back against him, to submit to the command in every line of his body. Keira gritted her teeth. “You had something on your shirt.”

His chuckle went straight through her. “You may keep your room, but as of tonight, your belongings will be moved into mine.”

“What?” All the delicious feeling in her body disappeared, replaced by sheer rage. “You can’t do that, you high-handed son of a bitch.”

“I think you’ll learn that I can do whatever I damn well please.” He didn’t move, didn’t abuse the position he had her in, but she felt the promise of his words all the same.

She elbowed him, slammed her boot into his instep, and ducked under his arm. Keira spun to face him, hands up. She might be able to throw a punch, but she wasn’t a martial arts expert. Dmitri really could do whatever he damn well pleased to her and she would be helpless to stop him.

He straightened his shirt, looking at her as if he’d spooked a wild animal. “Dinner. Tonight. You seem to have forgotten our plans the other day. Don’t forget again.” This time, there was no mistaking the threat. Apparently her grace period was at an end.

She lifted her chin. “Game on, Russian.”

Dmitri studied the box on his desk. Generic in every way except its size. It sat in the middle of the desk, a rough three-by-three square. Mikhail stood on the other side of it, his hand on his gun. A gun wouldn’t do anything against whatever was enclosed, but it was good for his man to be alert. “Who sent it?”

“I don’t know. I came into the office and it was here.”

He cut the nondescript tape on the top and opened it. Styrofoam peanuts sat in a perfect layer, but the smell told him everything he needed to know—death. “I need gloves.”

Mikhail went to the cabinet in the corner and returned with leather gloves. Dmitri pulled them on, never taking his gaze from the box. He delved into the peanuts, coming up with a sealed envelope. It contained a plain card with a note scrawled in it.

“Where is Keira?” He set the note aside. He’d expected Mae to make a move—she wasn’t the patient type, and it had to be infuriating in the extreme to know he bested her. It was entirely in character for whatever the box contained to be dramatic—and bloody. Alethea’s leash had slipped before, and it had obviously slipped again. There was no controlling Mae.

Mikhail shifted from foot to foot, the only sign of his unease. “She found the library. She’s been in there for hours.”

At least something had caught her interest. Krav Maga would help as well, but he was going to have to give her something else to keep her occupied—and out of trouble—soon. Dmitri focused on the box. “Let’s see it.” He carefully swept the peanuts to the side and delved deeper than he’d gone to find the note.

A head. That crazy bitch put a head in a box.

He lifted the head, dark hair swirling through the peanuts and then a face emerging. Dmitri froze. Keira.

But no, it wasn’t Keira, because his Keira was safely ensconced in the library. “Send one of the men to her, now.”

Mikhail didn’t ask for clarification. He dug his phone out and called Pavel. A quick conversation, and then a short wait for the confirmation text. He looked up from his phone. “She’s safe.”

Dmitri didn’t release his breath in a sigh of relief. He couldn’t afford to. But with Keira’s location confirmed, he could step back enough to study the dead woman’s face. Not Keira. They had the same straight nose and sharp features, but this woman’s lips were thinner, and her eyes were the wrong color—two things he should have picked up on immediately. He carefully replaced it into the box and removed the gloves. “Find out who she was—and who put the box here. Any packages should have been vetted by you first. I want to know why this one wasn’t.” It didn’t sit any better than the dead girl’s similarity to Keira. Mae had made a statement, and she would follow it with something worse. He might find anticipating Alethea’s moves challenging, but Mae was a rabid dog. All she knew how to do was attack. She might be crafty in the way she went about it, but she would attack all the same.

“Yes, sir.” Mikhail lifted the box and strode from the room.

Only then did Dmitri sink into his chair. He’d known the game when he crossed Alethea Eldridge. It was a calculated risk, but ultimately she had had every intention of killing him and wiping the Romanov name from the earth, so Dmitri had acted first. He hadn’t expected the FBI to botch things so intensely, but he should have known better.

Keira’s presence in the house had him distracted even when he wasn’t sharing space with her. The wedding had been too rushed, and she hadn’t officially been announced as his wife, so it wasn’t perceived as real yet.

That changed now.

He dialed the extension to the library. A few rings later, Keira’s voice eased over the line. “You know, it’s creepy how you have a phone in every room of this house.”

“It simplifies things.”

“If you say so. It’s better than finding a phone in my panty drawer.”

He almost smiled, but there were more important things to deal with right now than enjoying verbally sparring with her as they took a walk down memory lane. “Circumstances require a change in plans. I’ll be working late tonight.”

“I’ll be sure to cry myself to sleep about it.” Dramatic to the very end.

Irritation flared. “Stop being such a child.” It wasn’t a valuable trait, and her tendency to say whatever popped into her head made her a liability. He’d thought he’d have more time to bring her around before he announced her as his wife, but it wasn’t to be. That required her to grow up—quickly. “There’s a dinner tomorrow evening here. You’ll be required to dress for it. I can arrange—”

“As creepy-sweet as it was of you to stock an entire wardrobe for me, I’m more than capable of finding a suitable dress. I need to get the hell out of this place for a while.”

“That’s not an option.” It was far too easy to transpose her features over the dead woman’s. He knew damn well that was Mae’s point in sending it to him in the first place, but that didn’t negate the reaction. Or the threat. Keira had been in danger before, but it had grown exponentially with Mae being bailed out and Alethea going into hiding. He wasn’t letting Keira out of the house without a goddamn army.

She was silent for so long, he thought she might have hung up. Finally, Keira spoke. “Sure. No problem. I suppose you have someone on retainer who can bring in stuff?”

“I do.” That was too easy. This was the same woman who had all but scaled brick walls to escape her brother’s household night after night. Her nighttime wanderings hadn’t ceased in all the time his people had been watching her. So why now?

Keira didn’t sound bubbly, but it was close. “Have your goon give me the contact info and I’ll arrange it.” She must have known he was going to argue, because she cut in. “Look, Romanov, throw me a fucking bone here. You have me locked up like a less-than-virginal princess in a tower. The least I can do is pick my own damn clothes.”

It was a small freedom in the grand scheme of things. What was more, positive reinforcement would encourage her to obey him. It was only clothes, after all. “Pavel will pass on the information shortly.”

“Spasibo.” She hung up.

He set the phone down. The whole exchange defied expectations. Admittedly, he’d only interacted with Keira a handful of times up until marrying her, but Dmitri was a firm believer in research. He knew her, even if it was all secondhand information. Nothing in those reports gave any evidence that she’d suddenly become an obedient wife within the first week of marriage. He was tempted to chalk it up to her being sober for the first time since he’d interacted with the O’Malley family, but that didn’t feel right.

Or perhaps you’re looking for complications because you’re disappointed.

It was true that he’d enjoyed the way Keira didn’t seem to care who he was or fear him beyond all reason. Dmitri had anticipated a vigorous fight from the second she walked over the threshold of his home.

He should have known better than to pin his expectations on being continuously surprised by a single person. Keira had surprised him, but since she’d come through her withdrawal, she’d been subdued—almost submissive.

It was for the best.

The last thing Dmitri needed was a home front battle on his hands when he had the threat of the Eldridges circling. Keira’s actions might be puzzling, but it was one less thing he had to deal with in the meantime.

Truly, it was for the best.

He ignored the twinge of disappointment and picked up the phone again. It was time to get things moving.