Reckless Heir (Underworld Kings)

Chapter

Nineteen

Amara

Nikolai held out the Thai takeout box but I placed a hand on my belly, then lifted my palm toward him and shook my head. “I don’t think I can take another bite,” I said with a grin, then followed it with a soft moan of discomfort. “I don’t think I’ve ever eaten so much in one sitting.”

I had my father to thank for that, a man who would watch our portions and scold us if he thought we had too much to eat. In his eyes all he saw us as was a pawn to use, and his pawns had to be thin and pretty and only there for appearances.

After Dimitri left, Nikolai gave me a tour of his apartment. Although the term apartment seemed grossly understating given his place. The penthouse was two levels, with the lower one housing the living room, kitchen, two bedrooms, and a full bath. There was a modern staircase that led up to the upper level, which was taken up completely by the master suite and bath.

The entire time he told me about the history of the building, how he purchased it years ago, gutted it and had it completely renovated. His apartment was the only one in the building, but he also had some storage space on an upper level, and an office that he used one below. It was strange seeing Nikolai in that latter light… a legitimate businessman and not only as a criminal.

But I supposed those two lives were interchangeable in the underworld.

He told me about all the little details, the mundane pieces of information that seemed so very “normal”, for what a couple shared. He let me know the schedule of the staff who came in and cleaned, and how he had a secretary who came in several days a week and did office work on the lower level.

He talked about how the building was secure, that I was always safe when he wasn’t at home, that he had men who patrolled the perimeter, and security cameras that monitored everyone who came and went.

He assured me no one would touch me while I was here, not even my father.

He explained his schedule could have him gone for long hours each day, but that he’d make sure he was home so we could eat dinner together every night.

Home.

Hearing him say that one word, expressing in that way how we shared the same space, probably shouldn’t have made me feel as good as it did.

After that he suggested I take a bath and relax, and I’d been so stunned to see this gentle side of him that I’d stood there long after he’d left the master suite, just starting after him. Of course I didn’t have much to go off of in being surprised by anything he did, but because he was a man in the same kind of criminal organization my father was, I assumed they were one and the same.

And although I wasn’t a fool in thinking he wasn’t just as deadly—maybe even more so—than my father, in only a few days’ time I was finding out he wasn’t like the evil monster I’d painted him out to be. Not to me at least.

So I’d taken a bubble bath, soaking in that massive tub until the water had become chilled and my fingers had pruned up. Then I’d wrapped myself in a push robe, until my skin had dried, and slipped on some leggings and an oversized sweater.

And here I was, sitting beside him on his couch, stuffed with good food, my head warm and loopy from the two glasses of wine I had, and feeling a different kind of heat fill me.

I stared at the television and let the words roll around in my head until they finally decided to spill forth. I reached for my glass of wine and finished it off, the sweet notes of berries hitting my tongue before sliding down my throat.

“This is all so…” I set my glass down and glanced over at him. He watched me stoically, then cocked an eyebrow as he waited for me to finish. “...domesticated.” I felt my cheeks beat at that admission and focused back on the TV.

“What did you think it would be like?” I shrugged and looked over at him again. “Thought I’d have you chained up in my bed so I could have my way with you any time I wanted?” He grabbed his beer bottle off the table and settled back on the couch as he brought the rim to his mouth and took a long pull from it.

I shouldn’t have felt the burst of humor at his words, but I found myself laughing softly.

“You should laugh more.” He brought his beer back to his mouth and drank deeply. “It’s pretty.”

My laughter died as something deliciously heated took its place.

“It’s just…” embarrassment had my words stalling.

“Don’t go all shy on me now, little doll.” The way he said that, and the look on his face told me he was thinking the same thing I was.

What we shared on our wedding night and on the plane.

“Unless you prefer to be chained up to my bed and at my mercy?” His voice dropped to a rougher octave then, and I physically shivered.

I knew he saw my physical reaction by the way his pupils expanded, his lips barely parting as he sucked in a breath. I was embarrassed by his words, not because he spoke them, but because of how much I wanted them to be true.

I was seamlessly turned on by the idea of Nikolai having his way with me.