At the sound of the door, I drop my hands and straighten my spine. I put on a brave front to show I am comfortable and hold zero regrets about this outfit. Alexei steps inside and stops dead in his tracks the second he looks at me. “What are you wearing?”
“What?” I look down at myself. “Don’t you like it? It’s a dress.”
“Where’s the rest of it.”
“This is how it came.”
He stares hard at me. “I know for a fact that’s not how it’s supposed to look.” His eyes drag over the low neckline, the high slit, the hem doing the bare minimum to cover me, and snap right back up to my face. “Where is the bottom half? Where is the top?” He drags a heavy hand down his face. “Fucking hell, Zoya.What do you want me to do with this? I can't go around killing my own associates over a glimpse of your tits or your ass. I'll have no men left.”
"That's on you," I say, keeping my tone light as I pick up my clutch. "If you want to lose business partners over a dress, that's your business."
He stares at me in silence, his jaw flexing while he runs the math in his head.
"That isn't a dress," he groans.
“It’s a fucking handkerchief with delusions of grandeur.” He steps closer, hooking his fingers into the neckline to tug at the flimsy straps with pure spite. "One wrong move and your tits are joining the party. I gave you a dozen fun ways to kill me, Vedma. Why the fuck are you picking the slowest, most painful one?"
I force a sweet smile. “Watching you suffer is my new favorite thing to do. And yes, I’m keeping this on. You asked to marry me? Congratulations, pakhan. This is your life now. Figure out how to live with it.”
I spin around to leave. His hand shoots out and locks tight around my wrist.
“Change.”
I take my time turning back to face him, arching one eyebrow. “Excuse me?”
He leans forward, his voice dropping into a heavy threat. “You heard me. Change. Right now.”
I step straight forward, pressing my body flush against his front. I drag my hand up his chest, feeling his muscles lock tight under my palm, and reach his jaw to tilt his face down to mine.
"Make me," I whisper, keeping my mouth just a breath away from his. "Or is the ruthless pakhan terrified another man might look at his property? You can't handle the competition, Alexei?"
A dark, starving look takes over his expression.
His hands grip my waist hard before sliding down to flip the hem of the dress up in one rough motion. Both his palms squeeze my bare ass, his fingers digging deep into my skin to claim me. I bite the inside of my cheek to trap the gasp caught in my throat.
“If we weren't running late,” he growls against my ear, “and if I hadn’t made that stupid fucking promise, I’d rip this pathetic excuse for a dress off you and fuck that attitude out of your system.
He squeezes my ass hard enough to leave a mark.
“Keep pushing me, Zoya. Your mouth gets bolder every damn day. One of these days I'm going to stop playing the gentleman.”
I grab his wrists and peel his hands off my ass, smoothing the dress back into place to restore my perfect facade.
"Gentleman?" I let a short breath of laughter slip out. "We both know that ended the second you shoved my hands around your throat and begged me to kill you."
I pick up my clutch and head for the door, tossing one last look over my shoulder. "I'll be downstairs. Try to keep up, big guy. And do try not to have a stroke when people look at me. It would just be embarrassing."
The elevator opens into the lobby. As soon as we step outside, the freezing Moscow temperature drops over me. The cold slices straight through my flimsy dress and bites deep into my exposed skin.
“Someone’s cold,” Alexei points out, his tone thick with amusement.
“I’m not,” I shoot back. “I’m actually sweating. Must be all the hot air you’re breathing out.”
He glances down at me, but I keep my gaze fixed straight ahead and hold my jaw tight so my teeth stop clicking together while we wait for the car to pull up.
He keeps his eyes straight ahead and lowers his voice. “I still hate how fucking skimpy that dress is.” He pauses for a second. “But as much as I want to burn that scrap of fabric, you look incredible tonight.”
The compliment catches me off guard and sends a rush of heat straight to my cheeks before I can stop it. I open my mouth to fire back a sharp response, but my mind goes blank.