Page 49 of Control: XXX Vadim 1
I choke down a panicked swallow. Someone? A real wife he has hidden in a storage shed somewhere?
“Who?”
He sighs, and casually manipulates the steering wheel, leaving the main street altogether. “The love of my life,” he says simply. “It’s time you’ve met her.”
Chapter Seventeen
Iwant to vomit until he parks before a building on the outskirts of the city—presumably the home of his supposed true love. As soon as we exit the car and I inhale a familiar, musky scent, some of my panic eases, replaced by grim amusement.
“Don’t tell me your true love lives in a barn?” I ask as he leads me into a wide, spacious stable overlooking a vast expanse of green pasture.
“Oh yes,” he says with a stern nod. “This is her kingdom, and here is the queen...”
I gasp as he leads me to a stall where the most beautiful white mare I’ve ever seen immediately sticks her head over the low door. She whinnies in greeting, her eyes gleaming at the sight of Vadim. True love in its purest form.
A love that seems wholly reciprocated.
“And here she is,” he gushes, stroking her ivory mane. “My Zzazza. My sweet.” He brushes his lips along her cheek. “The only girl to ever claim my heart.”
“Should I be jealous?” I wonder as I creep forward and offer my hand for her to sniff. Money must not really be an option for him. She’s gorgeous, and her “kingdom” appears to be a massive stable housing only her and two other horses, each within their own spacious stall.
“Who is this?” I ask, spotting a darker, chestnut face eyeing me from another stall.
“Donali,” he explains, reluctantly leaving Zzazza. “And that handsome gelding is Markesh. All beautiful. All who own a piece of my soul.”
“You own this entire stable?” I ask incredulously.
A sly smile shapes his mouth, and his eyes gleam in a way I’ve never seen, resonating warmth. “I rent it out to a few students who give Donali and Markesh all the love they could ever need. But my girl Zzazza? She is all mine.” He returns to the mare, rubbing her affectionately. “But I have sorely neglected her. For that, I apologize, my sweet.”
“Don’t tell me you haven’t seen her in a year?” I move to stand by his side, watching as he showers the horse with murmured praises and generous petting.
Something that could be guilt darkens his gaze as he withdraws from her with a sigh. “Ena has been keeping you company in my absence, hmm?” She knickers as if in agreement. “I told the old bastard to take you out at least once a day.”
“She must be a dream to ride,” I say.
A small smile shapes his mouth. “That she is. It’s been far too long since we’ve taken a nice long one, hasn’t it?”
Something about how he tailors his voice for the horse alone makes my chest feel tight. Awe? Maybe more jealousy too.
“We could now?” I suggest, only to realize that a dress worth several thousand grand and a tailored suit probably aren’t the best items of clothing to wear horseback riding.
Vadim scoffs. “Most women would be horrified at the prospect of smelling like an animal and risk breaking a sweat.” His eyes glitter playfully, and I puff myself up, placing my hands on my hips.
Challenge accepted.
“Is that so? My mother bred thoroughbreds for fun when she wasn’t playing the socialite housewife. You should be worried if your riding skills will even impress me. If I had suitable clothing, I’d have you take me out in a heartbeat. We could always ride naked,” I add, savoring the faint color that paints his cheeks even as his expression remains stubbornly neutral. “But that might offend your workers’ sensibilities.”
“Luckily for you, I keep a spare set of jodhpurs here,” he says, leaning in close, his breath hot on my neck. “And I am more than willing to display my skills for your judgment.”
I crane my neck back and meet his gaze with a lazy smile. “You’re on.”
* * *
He is an amazing rider.Balanced in front of him, I can sense every slight shift in his posture as he guides the horse beneath us down a winding path through a vast range of fields. He and Zzazza move so beautifully in sync it’s as if they’re reading each other’s minds.
And maybe I’m more than alittlejealous now.
I had wanted him totellme more about himself, but I’m starting to realize that this way is so much better. Seeing it for myself. Feeling the air whip through my hair as a powerful, massive creature moves beneath me primarily of its own will. It’s an illusion of control built mostly on trust, and I think I understand a fraction of his obvious passion for it. And once again, my impression of him is turned on its head.
