Page 28 of Vienna Bliss

He exhaled and finished raising the glass, taking a small sip.

She swallowed, but the strawberry didn’t taste as good as it looked. Then again she’d barely tasted any of the impressive dinner.

Dread and anticipation were knotted together inside her, under all that frosty anger, because once dinner was over, she and Alexander were going to talk.

And she was going to do whatever it took to make it clear to him that she was not some brainwashed submissive with Stockholm syndrome.

Whatever it took.

There were still some lovely cheeses and fruit on her plate, but she was done. Done with more than just dinner.

Alena rose and took her half eaten plate over to the sideboard, setting it down. She poured herself a small glass of port and when she turned to the table, she headed for his end, not the seat where she’d been.

Her patience was at an end. It was time to have a conversation with Alexander Wagner.

The quiet, infuriating man she loved.

Alexander stiffened as she approached and shifted his own plate of fruit, cheese, and cream to the side.

Alena set her port glass down, then hopped up to sit on the table. She’d still had one piece of clothing in her suitcase he hadn’t seen yet, and that’s what she was wearing now. It was a strapless black dress with a fitted, boned top, high-low hem with a small train, and matte black chain detailing. Three strands of black chain were draped around the waist, hiding the place where the stiff, fitted bodice connected to the skirt. More chain was draped around her upper arms and connected to the sides of the bodice, creating an off the shoulder “sleeve” of graduated chain strands.

She’d paired the dress with the one pair of CFM—come fuck me—height high heels she had. Black velvet stilettos with a wide ankle strap. She’d had to walk down the stairs in bare feet and put them on just outside the dining room.

Then, to top it all off, she’d pulled her hair up in a high, severe bun, which left her neck and shoulders bare. Black sapphire studs in her ears were the only jewelry.

She swung her legs around so that she was facing him while seated on the end of the table, the edge of her calf touching the outside of his knee.

“There’s a saying where I come from,” she said.

Alexander watched her from beneath his unfairly-long eyelashes. As expected he didn’t speak, only nodded to acknowledge her words.

“A come to Jesus meeting.”

He blinked in surprise. “A…what?”

“A come to Jesus meeting. And that’s what you and I are about to have.”

“And what exactly is a ‘come to Jesus meeting’?”

“It can be different things to different people. When my mama was still alive, if she said that to me it meant we were going to have a serious conversation about my behavior or attitude.” Alena slid her inside leg past Alexander’s knees, so that his legs were between her own. “For us it means we’re going to lay all our cards on the table, and say exactly what we’re thinking. And you, Alexander Wagner—” She raised one leg, pressed the toe of her shoe against his belly and the tip of the heel against his crotch. “—are going to listen to me.”

Alexander hissed when she applied a little bit of pressure, her stiletto digging into his cock, which didn’t feel entirely soft and flaccid. He grabbed her ankle, preventing her from skewering his dick.

“I agree, we need to have a conversation.” He tried to shift her leg to the side. “Why don’t you—”

Alena leaned her weight into the foot on his lap, and Alexander cursed as he lost his grip on her leg and her shoe dug into him.

“What’s it going to take to make you mad, huh?” She reached out and grabbed his tie, wrapping it around her fist.

“I’m not angry.”

“I know that. That’s the problem…because I am. And the fight won’t be any fun if you aren’t pissed too.”

“I am not going to fight with you.”

“Why not?” She tugged on his tie and pushed with her foot, forcing him to lean his shoulders forward while keeping his ass pinned to the back of the seat.

“Because I can’t trust myself not to hurt you,” he said softly.