The Professional - Page 73/106

He looked like he’d just stifled a wince. “Then that means I should succeed at least in protecting you. I don’t want my past to taint you.”

“Taint? Because I was so wholesome? Hate to break it to you, but I was already leaning this way. When I went online to order my ‘arsenal,’ do you think I didn’t mosey over to the other pages on the site, the ones with braided black leather and shining silver chains? I was already curious.”

For the first time, doubt flickered in his expression. Hope?

I pressed my advantage. “That’s right. Maybe deep down you sensed it in me from the very start.”

He shook his head hard. “This can’t be. I don’t want to discuss it further—”

“Shut up and listen to me! I’m fighting for us, and you’re not even trying to meet me halfway. Do you think I’m stupid?”

“No! What are you talking about?”

“What you described as a sickness . . . you can’t suppress something like that forever. You already threatened to find another woman the last time you didn’t get your way with me. Since you refuse to see me as a partner, sooner or later you’ll go to another to have those needs fulfilled.”

With a sharp shake of his head, he grabbed my arms, about to speak, but I cut him off: “Did you never think that I might go to another too?”

He released me with splayed fingers, as if tossing a live grenade. With a vile curse, he turned toward the door.

On his way out, my fighter punched a hole in the wall.

A lone, still pissed, I’d gotten myself dressed, then picked at some food I’d found in the fridge. Afterward, I’d called Jess—who’d been hungover and out of it. So I’d made my way into the panic room to idly survey pedestrians for mindless hours.

Or, more honestly, to wait for Sevastyan’s return like a sap. What if he had gone to another woman? What if he was whipping her right now, dominating her with that compelling voice and magnificent body?

My eyes watered. I could get past anything, but not infidelity, not when I’d all but begged him not to do it—

I jerked up in my seat when I saw Sevastyan return. I blinked through my tears, watching him enter the kitchen with a large gift-wrapped package.

He’d been out getting me a present? My emotions spun wildly in the other direction. Giddiness. Glee.

As if he knew I was watching him, he glanced up at the camera as he set the box down on the counter. The look in his eyes was filled with warning. And maybe even a little . . . sadness. Then he left again.

Where was he going, and why leave the package? Was it a peace offering—or a parting gift?

I sprinted to the stairs, bounding down them to the kitchen. I tore into the box, finding an emerald-green beaded gown. Lingerie was included—a cropped black satin bustier with a matching thong. Thigh-highs and heels completed the ensemble.

There was even a long velvet jewel case with emerald earrings and a matching pendant.

I swallowed. What was this all about? I spied a card inside, snatched it up. As I read his handwriting, my excitement receded, my stomach giving a lurch.

Nine tonight. Be careful what you wish for.

S

Chapter 33

I finished pinning my hair up just before nine, then checked my appearance in the floor-length mirror.

The gown was nothing short of exquisite. The beading was sophisticated and asymmetrical, the design sweeping up my body, drawing attention to the high slit at the right leg, then to my flaring hips and finally my br**sts, which were on full display.

At first, I’d thought the bodice didn’t fit; then I’d realized my boobs were supposed to bubble up on top like this. The pendant he’d given me nestled right at my cle**age.

This look had called for makeup, so I’d put on lipstick, mascara, and even some shimmery eye shadow that made the color of my eyes pop. I’d snapped a selfie of my getup and texted it to Jess. She’d pronounced me a stone-cold fox. She’d pronounced herself heteroflexible and very interested in sexy funtimes with buxom redheads.

Still, having never dressed in anything like this, I was having qualms about going out in public. But then, I had no idea where Sevastyan was taking me, or even if he was taking me out. My dolling up could be part of some fantasy of his.

Was I nervous? Hell, yeah. That card had spooked me. Yet then I’d reminded myself of what exactly I’d wished for: to explore our darkest desires—together.

And, man, was I game.

Plus, his concession signaled that he was trying to make me happy. I considered whatever he was about to show me as couples therapy, team building for two—

Sevastyan appeared in the doorway of our room. I sucked in a breath at his heart-stopping appearance.

He wore a traditional one-button tuxedo, obviously bespoke. The jacket flawlessly highlighted his broad shoulders and muscular chest. The material screamed expensive, but the cut said conservative.

Understated accessories—stoneless cuff links, a pocket square of dark silk with a barely-there design, a classic tie—completed his spellbinding ensemble.

His clean-shaven jaw made my hands itch to caress those chiseled edges.

He’d retained just one of his rings for the night, that sexy thumb ring. Along with his tattoos, it was a gritty counterpoint to the elegance of the rest of his outfit.

Even in a tux, he was still my street fighter. This man was on his way to becoming mine, was taking steps—albeit strange and mysterious ones—to advance our relationship.

Maybe in time he could feel something deeper for me too.