Valentina sees my expression as we head home, the car packed full of shopping bags, and laughs. “Don’t worry,” she tells me. “Not that he would care, but he’s not even going to look at the purchases. He’ll pay the bill and never bother looking at the itemized list.”’
“You’re kidding.” I can’t fathom it. I think of hours spent poring over the statements for my bills, looking for anything that might have been overcharged or incorrectly added, and I can’t imagine just paying a credit card bill in the five figures without bothering to see what was spent.
“He has more than enough money for you to spend whatever you like, and never notice,” Valentina promises. “You have nothing to worry about.”
It’s a hard worry to let go of. But as the gates of the mansion loom ahead of us, I do my best not to think about it. It was a good day. I feel relaxed and pampered and beautiful, and I need to turn my attention to what I can do to repay Damian, how I can make sure that he doesn’t regret allowing me this day.
Today was a dream. But if there’s one thing I know, nothing is ever given away for free.
Sooner or later, something will be expected. I just need to figure out what it is.
11
DAMIAN
Iswear I can smell the scent of Sienna’s shampoo and skin before I even see her, as soon as I walk into the house. It’s insane, but it’s like she’s permeated every aspect of my life within days. I can’t escape her, no matter what I do.
I breathe in, smelling vanilla and honey and sandalwood, and something richer, something expensive that makes me think of her stretched out on a massage table, hands kneading into her skin as she lets out soft groans of pleasure.
My cock swells as jealousy floods through me at the thought of someone else touching her.Maybe I shouldn’t have suggested the spa, I think, and just as quickly realize how ridiculous I’m being. She’s not mine, not in the way I keep imagining. She’s a temporary responsibility. The way I’m reacting to her is, frankly, concerning.
And wrong. Wanting her is wrong in so many different ways.
“Welcome home, Damian.” I hear Mrs. Horvat’s voice and see her walking past the staircase, a pleasant expression on her face. “Your wife is in the informal living room with her son, if you want to see her. I think she and Valentina had quite the day.”
My wife. The simple way she says it hits me, as if there’s nothing strange or unusual about it at all. Meanwhile, I still can’t quite believethat I did something so impetuous. That Imarriedthis woman. I remember Konstantin’s astonished voice when I told him what had happened.You thought the best solution wasmatrimony?
It’s temporary. Temporary. Remember that.
I don’t know why it’s so hard to remember. Why my body and mind keep reacting as if I’ve sworn ‘til death do us part to this woman with any real intention of keeping that vow.
“Their day went well?” I ask, and Mrs. Horvat shrugs.
“I can’t say for sure, of course, but I think Valentina took excellent care of them, and made sure Sienna got the most out of the day. Adam was well taken care of while she was gone. And, if I may say so—” A sly smile curves one corner of Mrs. Horvat’s mouth. “Your wife looks very lovely.”
There's something in her tone that makes me look at her more sharply, but her expression is carefully neutral. Mrs. Horvat has worked for the Abramov family since I was a child—she knows how to keep secrets and when to mind her own business.
I can hear voices when I get closer to the living room, Sienna reading what sounds like a children's book, her voice animated and playful. The sound does something strange to my chest, makes me think of things I have no business thinking about. It sounds intimate and domestic, something I never imagined having anything to do with me.
It still doesn’t,I remind myself, but when I reach the doorway, I stop in my tracks at the vision in front of me.
Sienna is curled up on the couch with her son, a picture book spread across their laps. She's wearing a long floral dress with thin straps that split at the leg, showing the length of it up to mid-thigh, the tanned skin on display making my mouth go dry. The neckline dips just into her delicate cleavage, and she looks relaxed and beautiful, lounging as if she doesn’t have a care in the world. Her hair is different—shorter, brushing just above her collarbone, styled in loose waves that frame her face and make her green eyes look enormous. Her skin glows, tanned and polished.
She looks…fuck, she looks incredible. Like she belongs in thishouse, in this life. Like she was born to wear expensive clothes and be pampered and protected. Something tightens in my chest, and I almost turn and walk away, ready to put distance between myself and whatever this is that she makes me feel, but she looks up before I can.
Adam looks up at the same moment. “Mama, your friend is here,” he says, in that guileless way that goes along with his age, and I see a flicker of nervousness cross Sienna’s face.
“You sit here and look at the pictures,” she says softly, sitting up. “I’ll be back in a minute. Tell me your favorite when I come back.”
I pause, remembering the paper bag in my hand. I see Sienna’s gaze flick to it curiously, and I clear my throat, feeling suddenly awkward.
How did I think this was a good idea?I avoid kids. I’m not the kind of man they should be around, and I don’t know what to do with them. I’ve been half-dreading the arrival of Valentina and Konstantin’s child, though I’m happy for them. But I’m standing here, and walking back out without giving Adam what I brought for him feels even more ridiculous.
Clearing my throat again, I hold out the bag. “I picked this up for Adam,” I say slowly, every word making me feel more unsure. “I don’t really know what someone his age would like, but?—”
“For me?” Adam is on his feet, excitement on his face as he abandons his book, his mother right behind him.
“Damian, you didn’t have to—” Sienna starts to say, but Adam is already excitedly taking the bag out of my hands, pulling out the large, stuffed shark that I purchased at a toy shop that I passed this afternoon leaving a meeting downtown.
