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“No. Just a couple of quick errands I should have done yesterday. I got kind of caught up in the whole Romanov thing.”
Tegan grinned and then frowned. “About that… you do know those contracts aren’t legally binding, right? If you don’t want to pursue anything with Viktor, you don’t have to, and I’m sure a good jeweler could remove his collar without damaging it or you too much.”
Tegan was concerned for her, but there wasn’t really anything she needed to worry about—yet. It wasn’t that she wanted to free herself of this experience with Viktor. She just wanted to make sure there wouldn’t be any long-lasting, negative ramifications from it. And she needed to know if Viktor was involved with Toney.
She just knew she couldn't wait until their date—was it even considered a date?—this evening to confront him; she had to do it now. The uncertainty gnawed at her insides, making her feel sick. If what the photographs implied were true, there would be no date, no experience, no relationship at all. She would be done.
Trust and seduction were both fragile and tenuous between them, and if shattered, there would be no repairing it. She was already way outside her comfort zone. She probably should take time to change, but this was neither a social nor a business call. Viktor would just have to learn to take her the way she was. With a deep breath, she slung her purse over her shoulder and headed out the door.
The drive to The Carriage House was a blur. Her mind raced, replaying every moment with Viktor, every whisper, every touch of his hand, every thrust of his cock. Would those memories need to sustain her over the years, or would he have some explanation that would allow her to continue exploring a side of herself she hadn’t even known existed? How could he betray her like this? Perhaps he had no idea what he already meant to her. Did she mean nothing to him? Had she given him so much of herself, her submission, her trust, only to be met with deception and secrets? That was not a fair exchange. Her willingness to submit to him might not mean much to him, but it meant one hell of a lot to her.
As she pulled into the circular drive in front of the Carriage House, she could feel the butterflies in her gut take flight in anticipation of seeing him. She told the butterflies to get over it, tamping them down and getting them back under control. Her resolve hardened, she got out of her truck before the valet could get to her.
“Ms. Ravenel, the club isn’t open, and Mr. Romanov did not say he was expecting you.”
“Not to worry on either account. I’m not here for the club, and Viktor will see me whether he wants to or not.”
No matter what happened, she needed the truth. She marched up to the entrance, the heels of her hastily pulled on riding boots clopping sharply against the polished marble floor that covered the foyer. She bypassed two other men inside and headed up the stairs.
“I’ll see myself in,” she called over her shoulder, hoping they wouldn’t try to stop her.
The doorman, sensing her determination, didn't question her or try to interfere. Smart man. Why did the stairs seem so much longer? Before she could knock on the door, Viktor was there opening it. He looked her up and down. He was not amused.
Pushing past him, she entered his office. “We need to talk, Romanov.”
He closed the door and turned to face her. “Apparently, we need to do more than that.”
Warning bells should have gone off, but they didn’t—or maybe they did and were being drowned out by the happy noises her erotic synapses were firing off.
She held up a hand to ward off whatever he was going to say. Anger flickered across his features as he moved past her to sit in the chair behind his desk.
“Sit, dushka. Explain yourself to me.”
“How about you explain this to me,” she said, pulling the photos and email from her purse and tossing them at him. “Do you even have an explanation?”
Viktor's face darkened as he looked through the information. He gathered the papers, neatened them into a pile, and set them on his desk with the email on top. "Why don’t you tell me what you think it is? I can assure you whatever you think, you are wrong."
"Am I?” she shot back, part of her praying he was right. “If it isn’t what I think, then tell me what it is. Because from where I stand, I can tell you it doesn’t look good."
He took a deep breath, his expression hardening. "My business is just that—business. It is not of your concern. Part of your submission is trusting me."
Emerson snorted. "Asking me to ignore what I can see right in front of my own eyes—you having business dealings with Oliver Toney and ones that implicate you in his money laundering scheme—is asking a lot.”
His explanation had been no explanation at all, and they both knew it.
"I'm not asking," Viktor said, his tone low and dangerous.
Emerson's anger flared, mingling hurt and feelings of betrayal. "You can't just dismiss this, Viktor. I need to know the truth."
He came around the desk, like a predator closing in on its prey. "What you need, malenkaya, is to be reminded of your place."
The confrontation was escalating quickly and threatened to blow out of control. Anger sparked between them like a live electrical wire. Viktor grabbed her arm, not roughly but with enough force to show he meant business, and hauled her out of the chair, marching her backwards towards the door of his office. For a heart-stopping moment Emerson feared he was about to throw her out of his office. Emerson's heart raced and banged in her chest like a demented and possessed snare drum. She was so angry with him, and yet all she could think of was how much she wanted him.
His lips came crashing down on hers as he pushed her against the wall behind them; his hard cock pulsed against her belly. Well, at least he wasn’t unaffected by whatever it was that was between them. Emerson’s core ached and throbbed as he held her in place with one hand cupping the globe of her ass and the other fisting her hair, tugging it and lighting up her scalp in the most delicious way. He tilted her head back to further reduce her ability to move as he deepened the kiss, his tongue invading her mouth, tangling with hers and making her moan. He released her ass and allowed his hand to roam up and down her spine until it settled back on her ass cheek, squeezing it firmly.
The sound of their heavy breathing filled the air around them and Emerson was certain anyone passing by the door would hear them and know exactly what was taking place. He tugged her hair, refocusing her attention on him as he pulled away from the kiss for air.
There was a soft knock on the door. “Go away,” he snarled. “We’re busy. I should spank this sexy ass of yours for your behavior, but I have need of you. I plan to make use of your pussy right here, right now. It is lucky for you that you chose to wear a skirt with a sexy sweater that clings to your breasts.” He ran his hand under her skirt from her knee to her ass and smiled. “Good girl. No panties. From now on when you come to see me, you will wear a skirt or a dress.”
