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“I heard you.”
Nastja doesn’t get her answer, though, because half a second later, Alena appears in the doorway and my entire world narrows in on her.
She’s dressed in a floor-length red dress that is sheer enough that I can still see the subtle shadows of her body through the fabric. It hugs her body like a second skin, with the fabric rising slightly over the clamps set on her nipples. The neckline plunges all the way down to her belly button, giving me a full view of the silver chain connecting her tits. The soft back collar stands out stark against her skin, and the chain links down with a single silver decorative chain that hugs her shapely hips. Her platinum-blonde hair is scooped to one side, and her eyes are lined in silver, making her plump ruby-red lips pop.
She’s absolutely beautiful and words fail me. A shy smile slips across her face, and her hip cocks to the side as she stands awkwardly in the doorway, pink rushing across her cheeks.
Obsession isn’t a strong enough word for the sheer need that soars inside me for Alena.
“I’ll see myself out,” Nastja says quietly, and she melts away, barely a thought left for her in my mind.
“Do I look okay, Sir?” Alena asks as if she has no idea how fucking mind-blowingly gorgeous she is to me.
“Stunning,” I reply, finally finding my voice. “Please, sit.”
I point through the archway to the lounge, and she nods. Her eyes linger on me as she passes, and I’m momentarily distracted by the sway of her ass until I collect myself. I have to be careful not to lose myself in her.
Not until we’re safe.
With plates in hand, I follow her into the lounge and sit at the dining table. This might be the first time it’s ever been used. She sits to my left, and her smile widens at the sight of the food.
“This smells so good,” she says, a slight moan to her tone.
“I can’t take all the credit,” I say.
“I don’t care, Sir.” She smiles widely. “The thought is what counts the most.”
For a moment, I almost feel bashful. Wanting to please Alena beyond my own desires for her is not something I’m used to. She coaxes out a softness in me that I’m certain did not exist before.
“Please, eat.”
Silence falls as we eat the food. Half my attention remains on Alena, watching her eat and admiring every inch of her body. The glint in her eyes reflecting the soft light of the room. The subtle way she licks the corner of her mouth after every few bites. Even the quick glances she sends my way when she thinks I’m not looking. I soak it all up.
“So, Sir…”
“You don’t need to call me that when we’re eating.” I love it, but at the dinner table, there’s no need.
“Okay. Am I allowed to ask how things are with… with my family?” Alena twists her fork around some pasta and keeps her gaze down, almost as if she expects me to scold her for asking.
I decide to tell her the truth. After all, I'm curious about her reaction.
“They’re still looking for you,” I say after a bite of pasta. “They put me in charge of the search.”
Her eyes flick up to me.
“Your mother’s main concern was the wedding, but that date has been and gone, so your disappearance can no longer be hidden from the Kuznetsovs. They took that as well as you can imagine.”
Alena’s nose scrunches up. “I’m not sorry about that,” she says bitterly.
“Indeed. Your father poured every resource into finding you, but lately, the Irish have been more heavy-handed than anyone expected, so that is taking up most of the focus right now.” Another bite, and I watch Alena’s brow dip.
“And Katja?”
“She’s safe. Keeping busy. No harm has come to her.”
Alena’s shoulders drop slightly in relief, and she smiles. “That’s good. I’m glad.”
She resumes eating as I study her. She barely showed any reaction to her family, giving more emotion toward Katja than anyone else. Clearly, that girl is more important than I realized.
