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I hated lying to her, but my plan was to wait and see what happened. I still couldn’t believe this crazy affair wouldn’t fizzle out when Lev grew bored of me, and when that happened, I could keep my pride. If it turned out to be real, I’d ask Lev if we could have a proper wedding sometime down the line. That seemed so farfetched to me, though, that I almost giggled out loud in the hallway.
There was no way that would happen. Lev was just some eccentric billionaire who acted on his every whim, and I happened to be the current whim.
Oh, God, what the hell was I doing? Marriage had always seemed so far away, but it was always something I took seriously. My parents hadn’t been the greatest, hiding their crimes the way they did and ultimately leaving our lives in shambles, but they had loved each other. Together to the very end. Was I actually marrying solely for money?
No. It was more than that, though not losing my chance at an education and ending up destitute on the street was a bonus. I was sticking to my moral code and doing the right thing by not accepting Aleks Fokin’s blood money.
Right? Wasn’t I doing the right thing? Or should I get up and run? A glance at Lev showed him looking at me, a very proprietary look in his eyes. One that gave me shivers, and they weren’t completely bad. Just relaxing on a chair that was much too small for him, in a grungy courthouse hallway, he dominated the space with his big, muscular frame. The hardened criminal types who kept pacing back and forth while waiting for their time in front of a judge were even giving him a wide berth.
And I was going to marry this big, scary guy? If I kicked my new heels off, there was a chance I could make it to the stairwell before he noticed what I was up to.
Vera hurried over from where she’d been talking to a clerk. It was our turn. I missed my shot. In a matter of minutes, I would be Lev’s wife. A man I hardly knew, whose deep blue eyes were unreadable as he took my hand and led me inside the courtroom.
My heart was about to break through my ribs, and spots danced in front of my eyes. Then I remembered his laughter on our date; that wasn’t a date, but then it turned out it was. He told stories about the mischief he got up to as a kid with his brothers. He listened to me as if what I said was worth hearing. This would be all right.
It had to be.
Without registering anything, I repeated what I had to and signed where they told me to, and the next thing I knew, we were back out on the street. Mr. and Mrs. Volkov. Vera waved goodbye as Lev helped me into the backseat of another chauffeured car, and we were heading back to his apartment.
It was at the top floor of probably one of the city's most sought-after buildings, with full, sweeping views of the bay. The fog did nothing to diminish the stunning view. There was somuch of it due to three of the living area walls being entirely windows from floor to ceiling that I felt dizzy. Or maybe that was Lev, standing behind me, close enough I could smell his cologne and feel his heat through the back of my dress.
The furniture was modern, but sparse, with only a large sectional sofa, a dining table covered in work Lev must have brought home, a few comfy chairs, and a desk that seemed utterly ignored. I felt a strange sense of kinship because I always preferred studying at our kitchen table. It drove Katie nuts since I had a perfectly good desk in my room, but there was just something about being able to spread everything out.
A few splotchy paintings that were probably worth more than everything I owned hung somewhat haphazardly on the cool, pale gray walls, and a thick wool rug covered most of the floor, but other than that, it hardly looked lived in.
“I haven’t been here for long,” Lev explained, noticing me taking everything in. “And I’m mostly only here to sleep or catch up on paperwork, so I didn’t put too much effort in. You can feel free to decorate however you like until we choose a house.”
A house? Was he planning to buy me an entire house? In San Francisco? It boggled my mind how rich he must actually be. The apartment we were standing in was already bigger than my old house in LA, and despite not having much by way of decor, I wouldn’t have minded staying there forever. When I thought about the commute to Berkeley on days I had classes, I let out a small groan.
“What? Is it that bad?” he asked with a teasing smile as I finished the tour around the place.
“I was just thinking about the bus ride to school,” I told him. “I love it, though. It’s so airy and bright, and that view is just…” I trailed off when he started laughing.
“You don’t have to take the bus anymore, my little bride. I’ll arrange a car and driver, so just imagine yourself relaxing in the backseat without a care in the world.”
My mouth dropped open, and I started to protest. It was way too much. He stopped me with a shake of his head. Apparently, it wasn’t much to him at all. Wow, the idea of not being crammed into a crowded tin can on wheels that smelled like the fish market more times than it didn’t was almost more exciting than the prospect of him buying us a house. I could get in extra studying and not have to guard my bag with my life. I was so happy, I put my arms around his neck.
Then, I stopped, dead, halfway to kissing him when I chickened out. His hard chest pressed against me, and my overworked heart started thudding overtime again.
“Thank you,” I whispered, sliding away, my cheeks flaming.
He graciously ignored my awkwardness, pulling me into the kitchen where a lavish meal awaited in the fridge. He explained he had a cook come in once a week and leave him several lunches and dinners, but he mostly ate out. Once again, he told me I could change whatever I liked. In my desperation to save money, I’d been living off instant noodles, canned tuna, and hard-boiled eggs, so I assured him I was perfectly content with whatever was in front of me.
He looked a bit disgruntled. “It’s time to aim higher, Jenna. Think about what you want, and I’ll make it happen.”
My blush increased as he heated up the roasted chicken, shoving aside his paperwork to clear a spot for us. He scratched his head, rumpling up his sandy blond hair and making me want to reach over and smooth it back down for him. His generositywas beyond anything I’d hoped for, only grateful to be out of my dire predicament. He just kept surprising me.
And he looked so handsome in his dark gray suit. His tie was loosened, and the top two buttons on his crisp white shirt were undone, revealing tan skin and a smattering of chest hair. I leaned against the counter while he put our dinner together, and he seemed to make a point of needing things in the drawers or cupboards near me, and kept brushing against me with his hand or arm.
Every time he got close, I breathed him in. He smelled even more scrumptious than the chicken, and by the time it was all laid out on the table, and he’d lit a candle, I was too worked up to eat. Nerves still gnawed at my stomach lining, but they had shifted to something else. No longer worried about the ceremony and making this official, I was now thinking about what came after dinner.
Our wedding night.
Lev poured us each a drink of sparkling grape juice, clinking his glass to mine. “To my gorgeous bride.”
“Am I really Mrs. Volkov now?” I asked.
Putting his glass down, he leaned across the table, his eyes going dark. His lips curled into a smile with a slightly feral edge. “I like the sound of it,” he said, so close that my breath hitched in my throat. My eyes dropped from his ravenous gaze to his lips.
