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“Viktor?”
“Knees, Emerson.”
Lifting the dress out of the way, she sank gracefully to her knees, looking up at him. “Viktor?” she asked again, a bit of alarm creeping into her voice.
“Do not speak, Emerson. I want you in the classic submissive position. It is the one you will assume from now on whenever we are alone unless I tell you otherwise. You will be naked, on your knees with your legs spread so that I can see your pussy. Your hands will be on your thighs, palms up, and your head will be bowed. Am I clear?”
She nodded and adjusted her position.
“Good. I don’t care why you took the egg, only that you tell me where it is now.”
“Egg? What egg?”
“The Nécessaire egg.”
“The Nécessaire? The Fabergé Nécessaire egg?”
He grasped her chin in his fingers. “Do not speak unless you are answering my question.”
“I can’t answer a question I don’t understand.” Alarm threaded her response.
“I am trying to make allowances for why you felt it necessary to take the egg…”
Her head jerked up, out of his fingers, and her eyes blazed. “Wait, you think I stole the Nécessaire egg?”
“Do not play me for any more of a fool than I already feel myself to be. You will return the egg or tell me to whom you have given it. You will put on my engagement ring, and we will be married within twenty-four hours. In that way, I cannot be forced to testify against you. I have told Agata she is to remain silent, but women—well, women can’t be trusted, can they?”
Emerson looked down again. Good. She was beginning to understand how things would be between them. She removed her hands from her thighs and before he had a sense of what she might be up to, she balled her right one into a fist and slammed it into his balls, making him take a knee, clutching at himself and trying to find air with which to breathe.
“I didn’t steal your fucking egg. And you can take your damn ring and shove it up a hole where the sun never shines.” She rocked back onto her heels and stood up. “You and Agata do what you have to do, Viktor, but don’t you or yours ever come on Ravenel property again. If you do, I’ll have you arrested for trespassing and harassment. I don’t think you got hit hard enough with that parasol. Goodbye, Viktor.”
She spun on her heel and walked away. By the time he could get to his feet to follow her, she was gone.
CHAPTER 19
EMERSON
Emerson gripped the steering wheel with white-knuckled intensity as she drove through the rain-soaked streets. The windshield wipers swished back and forth, a feeble attempt to clear her vision. She quickly realized it was the tears streaming down her face that made everything a blur. She could barely see the road, her sobs coming in gasping, heaving bursts. Her heart ached with the weight of Viktor’s accusation, the betrayal slicing through her like a knife.
How could he even think that of her?
How could he believe she had stolen from him? Sure, she’d seen the egg in the case and wondered if it was the Nécessaire egg. She figured in time, he’d tell her, but to think she would steal it? Forgetting for a moment about the level of dishonesty that would take, who the hell did he think she’d sell it to?
The memory of his eyes, cold and accusing, haunted her. She had trusted him, believed in him. She’d believed that even though things were moving fast, they had a solid foundation. Now? Now, everything was crumbling. The Fabergé egg was worth a fortune, and without it, Viktor wouldn’t just cut his ties to her—he’d press charges. Emerson’s chest tightened at the thought of her sisters, their lives disrupted by her supposed crime. Would their business even survive?
The car skidded slightly as she turned into the driveway too quickly, having splashed through puddles and rain-drenched streets. Emerson sat in the car for a moment at the bottom of the steps, trying to gather herself, but the tears wouldn’t stop. She punched the steering wheel in frustration, a cry of anguish ripping from her throat. Taking a deep breath, she wiped her eyes and stepped out of the car, the hot, humid rain mixing with her tears.
Inside the house, the atmosphere was thick and heavy as the temperature outside. Her sisters, Tegan and Kendra, were waiting. The moment Emerson walked through the door, their concerned expressions turned to confusion.
“Emerson?” asked Kendra. “What are you doing back so soon? What happened?”
Emerson shook her head, just wanting to go upstairs and calm herself. She needed to think, and she couldn’t do that in the state she was in.
“Emerson,” Tegan’s voice was quiet, but her eyes were angry. “What happened? We thought you were meeting Viktor.”
Emerson entered their office and collapsed on the couch, her body shaking. “He thinks I stole his Fabergé egg.”
“He has a… wait, that doesn’t matter. That sonofabitch accused you of stealing from him. Did he call the cops?” asked Kendra, her face twisted with rage.
