Page 28 of Marrying the Silver Fox

“You must be exhausted from the travel,” Nikolai murmurs, and I could almost swear that there’s some genuine concern in his voice.

I’m still trying to figure out just how much of his care for me is real, and just how much is put on to prove to his father that he truly cares about me.

“No, no, I’m fine,” I reply.

To my surprise, I feel a genuine pang at the thought of leaving this dinner.

Because it’s the first time in a long time that I haven’t felt like a spectator on the outside of someone else’s family, like I’m just clocking in the time it takes for them to realize that they have real relatives, real blood, to talk to. No, it feels like I’m actually part of things for a change, and it hurts to think of just walking away from all of that so soon.

Nikolai lifts his hand to my cheek. “Sleep,” he insists, and he leans over and plants a kiss against my temple. “I’d like to speak with my father before I rest this evening, anyway.”

I smile at him, conceding the point. “I’ll see you later,” I tell him, and I lean over to drop a kiss on his head, surprised at how natural it feels. “Marcus—thank you for having me for dinner this evening. It’s been a pleasure to get to know you better.”

“And you, Andrea,” he replies, rising to his feet and giving me another kiss on the cheek.

A lump leaps into my throat at the sudden closeness with a man who’s old enough to be my father. God, how long has it been since I’ve had something like this, if only for a moment?

I head from the room before my emotions can get the better of me, willing myself to keep it together. I can’t let myself get attached to all of this. I have no idea, after all, how long it will last, what might be waiting for me as soon as Nikolai has convinced his father that he’s a decent husband and that I’m a wife worthy of their family reputation.

My footsteps echo around the corridor as I head back to my room, the taste of red wine on my tongue, and the warmth of something I haven’t had in longer than I’d care to admit in my belly.

Something that, despite myself, I don’t want to lose.

13

NIKOLAI

“Goodnight, son,” my father tells me, as he embraces me outside the dining room.

That’s how I can tell that he’s had a drink too many, when he hugs me like this. He’s a far more reticent man most of the time, but this evening seems to have left him in a good enough mood to ignore his normal reservations.

“Goodnight, Dad,” I reply with a chuckle.

“And get back to that lovely wife of yours for me,” he remarks. “You can’t leave a woman like that waiting too long, you hear me?”

I nod, grinning. It seems as though Andie has made a damn good impression on my father, all things considered, and it’s a relief to see that he seems to have taken to her as well as he has.

“Agreed,” I reply, and he lifts a hand to bid me farewell before he turns to make his way back to his room. I watch as he goes, and as soon as he’s out of sight, I turn to make my way back to Andie.

I’ve made no mention of sleeping in bed with her again tonight, but I’m reluctant to wake up anywhere else but her side. I try to convince myself, as best I can, that it’s about nothing more than keeping up the front for the staff and the rest of the household. No matter what reason I give, I’m sure there will be chatter about the fact that we, as newlyweds, are not sleeping in the same bed. But it’s more than just that. It’s being close to her that has me tempted, the smell of her skin when I rolled over to pull her against me in the middle of the night, the deep, sweet warmth of her body in the bed next to mine.

It has been a long, long time since I’ve shared my personal space with anyone like that, and there’s good reason for it too. Even Natalie, who I was supposed to marry, didn’t stay over at my apartment before the wedding. I had little interest in her physically, beyond doing what needed to be done to ensure that there was an heir eventually, but Andie? There’s something about her that draws me in, something that I would never have noticed were it not for the ring on my finger giving me all the permission I need to see her in a whole new light.

She fits so comfortably into this world too.

I suppose it’s a learned skill from all the families and friend groups she’s had to become a part of over the course of her career. My father clearly adores her already, and he’s not an easy man to please in that regard. I always imagined that any wife of mine or Max’s would have a hard time proving themselves to him, but he and Andie swapped stories about their childhoods as though they were old friends.

I’m about to take a turn up the stairs when a voice cuts through the silence in the rest of the mansion.

“Nicky…”

I clench my jaw. I know who it is at once. Only one person uses that nickname for me. And the way he just said it, I know he means it to hit exactly as it did when we were kids, and he would sneer it across the room at me when I was playing with some toy he wanted or when I got a little more of our father’s attention than he thought I deserved.

“What is it, Max?”

“Nice dinner with Dad?” He stalks out of the kitchen. He’s stumbling slightly, as if he’s already drunk, and I look him up and down with disdain.

“Yes,” I reply. “Thanks for asking.”