Page 58 of Merciless Union
“Now?”
“Well, it doesn’t have to be right this second. And besides, it’ll take me at least a few days to finish it. But yes, I’d like to do it soon. If you’d let me.”
He looks between me and the easel. Finally, he nods. “I don’t see why not.”
I give him a larger smile, and his eyes soften.
So, there’s hope for our marriage after all.
CHAPTER14
Maxim
The next day, I’m sitting outside on the patio, overlooking the city below and getting my portrait painted. Despite the cold, Arina insisted the portrait take place outside, giving her the best use of a natural background.
She’s standing in front of her canvas, looking between it and me and occasionally drawing with a pencil. I admit, she looks pretty fucking cute in her apron as she paints with a look of concentration on her face.
I’m sitting in an uncomfortable position, ramrod straight, right on the edge of a stool, but Arina insisted it would look good in the painting.
“How long will this take?” I ask, shifting in my seat.
“Stop moving,” she orders, flicking her wrist as she makes another mark on the canvas. “I need to sketch out your portrait. Then I’ll need to go over it with the first round of paint. After that, you’re free to go, and I can continue working on it in peace.” She flashes me a small teasing smile.
“Good, then. Because my ass is hurting.”
This gets a soft laugh out of her.
Ever since we opened up to each other at her mom’s funeral, the tension between us has broken. Things are easier. Arina seems like she’s actually enjoying being in my presence. And I’m learning that I actually like her for her, beyond what she can provide me as a model wife.
I remind myself, though, to be careful. I can’t care for her too much. She can never be used as a weakness against me. Especially with Stepan closing in.
He’s been lying low, but he’s bound to show himself again eventually, and I need to be ready.
“So,” I say, watching a little crease appear between her eyes as she continues sketching, “what got you into painting in the first place?”
“Um …” She smiles. “My mom, actually.” She glances at me. “When I was little, I loved doodling on anything I could get my hands on. My favorite part of school was art class when we’d get the chance to use those cheap water paints. My mom noticed I had talent, or so she claims. I was only five at the time.” Another flick of her wrist as she draws. “But she said she knew I’d be great as I got older. So she helped foster my talent. Got me into art classes, bought me my first easel and canvas. My first set of paints. After that, I was hooked. I’ve been painting for most of my life. It’s my passion. If it weren’t for … well, being in the mafia, I would have loved to have gone to art school. But I always knew my job was to get married someday. At least I had my painting to help ease the pain of loss for something I never had to begin with.” Her tone fills with sadness.
I look out at the tall buildings surrounding us. The honk of car horns can be heard even way up here. “Arina, if you want, you could take art classes.” I glance at her. “I know it’s not the same as art school, but it would be something.”
She pauses, looking at me with wide eyes. “You mean it?”
“Yes. But you can’t let it distract you from your duties as my wife. If there’s an event we need to go to, I need you at my side.”
“Of course,” she says quickly. “Anything. Just the opportunity to take art classes again would make me so happy.”
“Then I don’t see why not. If you can balance the two, I’ll pay for any art classes you want to take. Just tell me where and I’ll make sure you’re safe when you attend them.”
“Thank you, Maxim.” She’s standing still, just looking at me.
I clear my throat, nodding towards the canvas. “Come on. I don’t have all day.”
She blinks. “Right.” She looks back at the canvas, drawing something else on it. She sneaks another look toward me, catches me watching her, then quickly looks back at her work.
I turn my head to look out at the city. The sun is starting to set, giving off an air of softness that makes everything seem mre warm and happy.
“Um,” Arina starts to say, walking out from behind the easel and approaching me. “I need your head like this.” She gently touches my jaw, turning my head how she wants it. I meet her gaze. Her fingers linger on my skin. I want to fuck her again so badly, but I know I need to be patient. It’s almost like she can read my mind because she blushes and pulls her hands away, turning back to the easel.
She continues sketching for a moment before setting the pencil down and grabbing her paints. “Maxim, why did you kiss me the other day?”
