The rest of the meal drags on. Every time I try to make a space between us, he closes the gap. He moves his chair closer, and his hand seems to keep finding mine. When the maid refills my wine glass, I take only the tiniest sip before tipping the rest into the plant when he glances away to check his phone. I'm counting the seconds until I can get out of here when he pushes away from the table and holds out his hand to me.
"Let's go to the living room and sit. It's more comfortable for talking."
I glance at his hand and then back to my plate where only a few bites of food are missing. He hasn’t even noticed that I haven’t touched my food. There's only one thing on his mind tonight.
I don't want to go sit with him, but refusing would only make things worse, so I let him lead me out of the dining room and across the hall to his living room.
This whole night has been so uncomfortable. I want to go home and bathe and wash the feeling of guilt off my skin, but Maksim leads me to the sofa where he sits, pulling me down next to him so close, I'm practically on his lap. Then his arm comes around me, pulling me even closer. I'm forced to put my hand on his chest to keep from falling over onto him, and he leans down to speak.
“You're so beautiful, Marina." As he whispers, his breath dusts my ear. I turn slightly so it doesn’t tickle, but it makes our moths so close he could kiss me. “I've been looking forward to this evening all week. To having you here... just the two of us.”
His free hand rests on my knee and slowly slides upward. I tense, every muscle locking in place. Pushing him away isn't an option. He's supposed to be my husband in three and a half months. What will I do then, when it's our wedding night and he expects me to climb into that bed with him? But I'm so stiff and he sees it.
Maksim leans in, his lips grazing my cheek. “Relax. You're going to be my wife soon. There is no reason to be so shy.”
"I'm uh... I've never..." Lying directly to him isn't an option, so telling him I'm a virgin would just blow up in my face. Besides, he'd know it the instant he does fuck me and I'm not a virgin.I can't make the words come out, but I can let the bile rise and maybe I'll vomit.
"An unplucked flower?" he asks, and I see the flash of lust in his gaze, but I quickly douse it because God forbid that make him even more hungry for me.
"No, it's just, I..." I feel my stomach rolling, and now my heart is pounding so fast, I feel dizzy. My eyes blink rapidly, pushing back tears as his hand moves higher, resting on my hip. The touch feels invasive, wrong in every way. My skin crawls and I turn my face away when he tries to kiss my mouth, and his lips land on my jaw instead.
“Stop,” I whisper, but the word comes out too weak. Tears burn my eyes as I push on his chest hard enough that he should get the point, but he doesn't even slow down. Maksim's fingers dip under the hem of my dress and slide upward on my thigh now, dangerously close to my panties, and I press my eyes shut to make the tears stop.
He can't do this, can he? We're not married yet. I don’t want to do this with him. But Elira's voice echoes in my head. If I let him have me, just once, the war inside my head over this baby is gone. Maksim will believe he's the father, and I can pretend it’s true. It's my salvation. So why do I feel like slapping him, clawing his eyes out, screaming and running away?
"God, do you know how badly I want to taste you?" His teeth sink into my neck as his hand squeezes my bare thigh, but I still push at his chest, ready to start striking him if I need to.
"Please," I whimper, wishing he would let me go. He's so strong, his arms so tight around me, there's no getting out of this. If I did what Elira suggested, Maksim would claim the baby as his ownand the alliance would stay intact. I could protect my family and keep my secret safe.
But the thought makes me sick. I can't do it, not when every part of me still aches for Stepan.
Maksim’s fingers push my dress higher while his mouth moves down my neck, sucking lightly. “You're mine now,” he says against my skin. “Let me show you how good it can be.”
Finally, I muster the strength to squirm away, pressing my back into the cushions. “Maksim, please. I am not ready.”
But he's back on me in a flash, now pressing me into the cushions as I squirm farther away. "Stop moving, Marina. When your husband tells you to do something, you do it. Do you understand?"
His hand grabs my hip and holds me down, but when he tries to kiss me again, I turn my head sharply. His lips miss my mouth and land on my cheek, and I push at his chest with both hands.
“Maksim, stop. I mean it.”
Instead of stopping, he shifts his weight, pinning me more firmly against the couch. “Stop being difficult. You're not leaving until I taste you."
He's scaring me, making my pulse race so fast, I see stars and feel a rush of adrenaline. I push hard on his shoulders, forcing him back, and before he can react, I'm on my feet moving. But the room starts to spin. Black spots dance at the edges of my vision as I stagger toward the door, but the blackness begins closing. My lungs burn as short gasps for air consume me, and then I see Stepan's face flash in my mind.
Tears rise, but before I feel a single one on my cheek, darkness takes me. The last thing I remember is my body hitting the ground hard and Maksim's shout for the maid.
18
STEPAN
Icircle the mat inside the gym ring with my feet bouncing while Angus bounces across from me on his toes. Kazimir stands outside the ring, barking orders at us both. He's trying to keep us both in shape and on our toes, and this match was supposed to be pretty even, but I'm getting my ass handed to me time and again because my head just isn't in this game right now. I haven't heard from Marina in a week, and I'm afraid she's decided to pull back.
“Elbows in tighter, Stepan,” Kazimir grumbles. He sounds annoyed. “You’re telegraphing that right arm again. Keep your chin tucked and circle left when he pressures you."
I give a quick nod and try to lock in, but my focus keeps slipping. My thoughts keep drifting back to Orlov and the way he’s holding Marina like some kind of trophy. I've been picturing my hands wrapped around that fucker's neck for days now, and the only thing that does is to make me want to kill him even more. He doesn't deserve her, and if I have anything to say about it, he won't get to enjoy her at all.
Angus pops in with a quick cross, which I slip, but I’m a half-second slow on the cross that follows it, and it glances off my shoulder. He follows up fast before I can reset, and a clean left hook catches me square on the jaw. The impact snaps my head back. The gym lights blur as my legs buckle, and I drop hard onto the canvas. Everything spins around as black spots crowd the edges of my vision. I’m pretty sure I almost blacked out.