Page 35 of Her Vicious Angel

If the Pakhan thought it would be safer to keep Andrei from me, he was dead wrong.

I had also learned one thing from meeting Andrei.

I didn’t want safe.

“Andrei wouldn’t let you,” I said.

His eyes looked warmly on me. “Khrabraya devushka,”he said. “Brave girl.”

To cover my confusion, I looked down and put a couple more sugar cubes into my tea.

“My son isn’t a good person,” said Grigoriy. “He’s brutal and violent. But he is loyal. Often to a fault.”

“He doesn’t want a wife,” I told him, amazed at my own boldness. “He won’t agree to marry me.”

“We’ll see about that,” said the Pakhan, and he waved a servant over.

I cried out with pleasure as they brought over a mouth-watering selection of Russian pastries.

Andrei’s father looked pleased, and began to explain what each item was, bending over me to name each one.

I hadn’t even heard the door open, but Andrei spoke coldly behind me.

“Trying to put your rusty seduction skills to good use, Pakhan?”

His father laughed and turned around to look at his son, speculation in his eyes. “And if I was, Andrei?”

I saw Andrei’s lips tighten, and he said, “she’s too much work for you, old man.”

Grigoriy smiled, showing rows of bright white teeth. “I gave her to you, and to you she remains. As long as you agree to marry her.”

Andrei kept his eyes on his father, but he said to me, “Cerise, go and wait in the library. It’s down the hall on the right.”

I grabbed several of the most tempting-looking pastries and went.

18

CERISE

Icould hear Andrei and Grigoriy arguing loudly in Russian, with Yevgenia putting in an acidic word or two. I moved around the library and ran a finger down some of the titles. There were so many beautiful books, books with golden threads and delicate painted pictures. Like everything else the Petrovics touched, the library was designed with every luxury in mind, with gorgeous fine wood, luxury furniture, and big bay windows that looked out over the Neva River in St. Petersburg.

I could hear Andrei stomping and ranting and heard what sounded like a crystal glass being thrown into the fireplace.

Then I saw his big body in the doorway to the library, and I could see he was breathing hard. He sat down in one of the big chairs covered in mulberry silk beside the fireplace.

“Ride me,” he said.

“What did you father say?” I replied.

He shot an angry look at me. “He arranged for a wife because he’s afraid my activities will cause a distraction for our businesses.”

“Whatareyour activities?” I asked, my heart starting to beat faster.

“None of your business,” Andrei said again. “I don’t intend to involve you in them.”

I felt a sharp prickling of irrational jealousy. Whatever they were, they were probably dangerous and likely unwholesome. I should be happy to not be involved.

But I wasn’t. I wanted every dirty, disgusting, unwholesome thing he was into. I wanted every wrong and bad thing. I wanted his hands on me, hard and harsh.

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