Page 37 of Unholy Tsar

But first, I need to collect my pupil.

“What do you think about Bree’s blind date?” Cecilia asks as soon as I open the door to her room—well, my room. Shit. I need to send her back to Bree’s place or at least to her apartment until the rumors die down.

Her presence here will only add fuel to the fire.

“It is what it is,” I say nonchalantly. “Are you ready for your lesson?”

She twirls around in front of me with a grin, “Do you even have to ask?”

The girl is in a surprisingly good mood for someone who was almost kidnapped recently. Her tiny body seems to be holding up pretty well, too. She’s a tough one, not to mention—

No. Stop it. Control yourself.

I’ve been forcing myself not to glance anywhere below her neckline—I’m trying to fight the attraction, not stoke it. But I’m helpless as she twirls. Cecilia is wearing one of my shirts and a pair of my pants. They’re ridiculously oversized on her, and she’s had to tie up the hem on the pants so it won’t trip her, but goddamn, she looks good, even if her figure is completely disguised by the bagginess of her outfit. The combination of the shirt and trousers on her swallows up her curves and should make her look masculine.

Still to me, she’s never looked more beautiful. I gulp as my cock stirs in my pants, and I quickly turn away. “It will do. Now come.”

“Ugh,” she complains as she walks up to me. Together, we make our way to the foyer. “I look ugly, don’t I? I need my card back so I can order some clothes in my size—or maybe one of your men can bring my clothes from my apartment?”

“That won’t be unnecessary,” I inform her, not bothering to point out that it’s my card and not hers. I press the button to call the elevator, and it slides open right away. “You’re going back to your apartment as soon as this lesson is over,” I add, walking inside. The sooner I distance myself from her, the sooner the rumors will die down, and the sooner the Italians can be put back in their place.

Cecilia just gapes at me as the elevator doors start to close. I push my hand between them, and they slide back open. “Are you coming or what?”

After a moment of hesitation, I see a familiar defiance light up her pretty eyes. Her lips curl slightly as she steps in.

For a moment, all is quiet. Then she speaks up again. “I think setting Bree up on a blind date in this day and age is archaic.”

We’re back to that? I raise a brow at her. “And how would you have her find love?”

She scoffs at me. “Love doesn’t exist, or if it does, it never lasts. It’s just a pretty facade that fades with time, so it doesn’t make sense to base a lifelong partnership on it. Why bother with it?”

I almost laugh.

“Based on personal experience, I might actually agree with you—but Bree’s parents have been happily married for decades, and they’re still in love. Same with her aunts and uncles, and even some of her cousins. They’re all proof that love can last.”

Cecilia shrugs. “They’re just exceptions to the rule.”

She’s right, of course. “Maybe so. But what experience do you have to make you believe love is so fickle?”

Her eyes widen, and she quickly backtracks. “Experience? What experience? What are you talking about?” The elevator comes to a stop on the second floor, and the door slides open. She scurries out, leaving me to watch her through narrowed eyes.

Hmm, interesting.

“Where are we going anyway?” she asks.

I gesture to the thick double doors ahead. A few of my men are already stationed outside. They straighten their spines as we approach. I nod and one of them quickly opens the door.

Behind me, Cecilia gasps softly. “Wow, it-it’s huge.”

I’ve heard her say that before. And the memory only brings on a new wave of temptation.

“It will do.”

I lead her into the large gym that features a private gun range. There’s one big room set up with gym equipment and several doors leading to other rooms. “The whole place is soundproofed,” I explain. “So don’t worry about waking anyone up.”

“Are you expecting us to be loud?”

“Guns tend to be loud, little one,” I quip, earning a nod from her in response.