Page 60 of Her Cruel Empire
Robin
Iwake in darkness, disoriented and alone.
The bed is too soft, the sheets too expensive, the silence too complete. For a moment I forget where I am—then it all comes rushing back. The restaurant. The wine. Eva’s fingers intertwined with mine as we walked along the Seine.
But how did I get here? The last thing I remember is coming in here, Eva telling me she’d just be a moment, her hands cupping my face as she kissed my forehead. I’d felt so alive, so ready to give her everything I had to offer.
Instead, I apparently fell asleep.
My cheeks heat with embarrassment. I wanted last night to be different. I wanted to show her I could be the kind of woman shereallyenjoys, not some tourist who passes out after a few glasses of wine. And the space beside me is cold. Eva never came to bed at all, or if she did, she’s already gone.
I sit up, running my hands through my tangled hair. The suite is eerily quiet, no sound from the living area beyond the bedroomdoor. Maybe Eva’s still working, handling whatever mysterious business keeps her up at all hours.
Maybe she’s regretting bringing me here at all.
I slip out of bed, my bare feet silent on the thick carpet. I need to find her, to apologize, to... I don’t know. Show her I’m not the naive little girl she thinks I am.
I pull on the silk robe Eva bought me yesterday—everything she buys me is silk or cashmere or some other fabric that I’d never dream of buying back home. The mirror catches my reflection: flushed cheeks, hopeful eyes, hair mussed from sleep. I look young. Inexperienced.
Tonight, I decide, pushing my shoulders back, I will be bold. Tonight I’ll change her opinion of me.
I head to the darkened living area of our suite. The plan is simple: find Eva, apologize for falling asleep, and then?—
I freeze.
There’s a man on the couch.
A stranger. A stranger with black hair, sprawled across the velvet cushions with his shirt half-unbuttoned, expensive shoes kicked off and scattered near the door. His coat is flung carelessly over a chair, and he’s dead asleep, one arm dangling toward the floor.
My heart hammers against my ribs. I take an instinctive step backward, and knock into a side table. I whirl to grab the vase that’s rocking from my shove, but it’s too late.
The sound wakes him.
He sits up with a start, blinking groggily in my direction as he snaps on the nearest table lamp. “You’re not Eva,” he says, inwhat seems like an English accent. Then his face breaks into a grin that’s equal parts charming and wolfish. “Ah. You must be her latest.”
The casual way he says it makes my stomach clench. The latest. The latest in a long line of women Eva’s brought to Paris.
I clutch the silk robe tighter around myself, suddenly very aware that I’m practically naked in front of a complete stranger. “Who—who are you? How did you get in here?”
He swings his legs off the couch, still grinning. He’s handsome in an effortless way that reminds me of old movie stars—all sharp cheekbones and lazy confidence. “Dimitri Novak. Eva’s wayward cousin. I’m sorry if I startled you. Leon let me in. I was planning to surprise my dear cousin in the morning, but...” He gestures vaguely at the couch. “I drank rather a lot last night and now here we are.”
Her cousin. That explains how he got past Leon, I guess.
He appraises me with blatant interest, his gaze traveling from my bare feet to my sleep-mussed hair. His amber eyes are the same shade as Eva’s. “You’re not my darling cousin’s usual type,” he muses.
I don’t know how to respond to that, so I just stand there, probably looking as mortified as I feel.
His grin widens. “Perhaps she’s finally maturing.”
“I should...” I start, gesturing vaguely toward the bedroom. “Eva doesn’t know you’re here.”
“Oh, she won’t thank you for waking her.” He stretches like a cat, completely unbothered by the awkwardness of the situation.“You look like you need a drink. Can I interest you in something from the bar?”
“No, thank you.”
Before he can say anything else, a voice cuts through the room. “Dimi. You were not expected.”
Eva stands in the doorway of her bedroom in silk pajamas, barefoot and beautiful and clearly displeased.
