The nerve of this bastard. I try to free my chin, but he only tightens his grip, sliding his thumb up to press on my bottom lip. “No,” he whispers. “You’re still not talking. Not right now, not while I’m within ten feet of you, or I might toss you out the fucking window.”
I clear my throat, his thumb moving across my lips. Despite his order, I speak anyway. “The windows don’t open.”
“Oh, I can be very creative. You have no idea.”
I’m not sure why that statement causes things to tighten my belly, and lower. A wash of heat flits along my bare skin, leaving goosebumps on my legs.
“Why are you so invested in driving me crazy?” he asks, no menace or malice in his voice, not a bit of what has driven him since I first got out of bed.
“You say that like I actually care and consider what you think or want.” I match his flat tone.
“Hm.” He presses my lips into my teeth until I have to open my mouth for him or risk pain. “That sounds about right. Same as every other councilmember. You don’t give a shit about anyone but yourself.”
He flirts with sliding his finger between my lips, but abruptly releases me and steps away. “Get ready. We are leaving in a half hour. I won’t be waiting for you. If you’re not by the door, I’ll go down myself and tell this bastard to fuck himself right off a cliff.” He walks out of my room without a word or even a look back at where I’m still sitting, flushed and angry.
How dare he? Every step of this journey has been him yelling at me, bodily forcing me around, or complaining about my presence in general. At this rate, I’m not convinced I would have been better off staying in Chicago to deal with everything myself.
“Twenty-nine minutes,” he shouts from somewhere beyond my door.
I sigh, forcing all my frustration into a long puff of useless air. It does absolutely nothing to ease my frustration.
With nothing else to do, I get dressed and ensure I’m standing by the door under Michail’s deadline.
He gives me a cursory look, and I’m glad I listened to my gut and wore a dress he’d have vetoed off the bat. It’s black, and so short I have to be careful how I sit. Best of all, it hugs every inch of my body. It was tailor-made to knock people on their asses, but he barely spares me a glance before throwing open the hotel room door and holding it for me to precede him.
It doesn’t matter. I’m not here to impress him, or hell, even this man I’m about to meet with. I dress for myself, and occasionally to weaponize what stiletto heels do to my ass.
Even on the ride down in the elevator, he’s quiet, and I can’t tell if he’s waiting for me to say something or just continuing in his usual dick mode. Either way, I’m not the one who will break the porcelain silence precariously balancing between our pride.
We ride down in silence, and he tugs me out of the elevator, tight fingers wrapped around my bicep. I only allow him to pull me along because he knows where we are going. The second he marches in the crowded restaurant and stops at a table, I jerk my arm from his hold.
With a glare, he unbuttons his suit and pulls the chair out for me. And with an equal glare, I take the seat and meet Emmanuelle’s eyes over the white linen tablecloth.
The soft drone of the restaurant around us makes me feel safer. As does Michail at my side, even if I want to punch him in his smug face.
“You’re alone tonight,” I say, pulling the napkin off my plate to drape over my lap. A server fills water glasses, then wine glasses with whatever Emmanuelle chose before we arrived.
I’m focusing on the councilman when Michail’s fingers play down the nape of my neck. I shiver under his touch, my concentration splintering.
“I am. I decided I can do this meeting alone, even if you haven’t. I see you still brought your friend with you.”
I risk a glance at Michail and find him playing the sulking, jealous lover, looking younger than he has any right to look. Despite the death stares he’s casting at Emmanuelle, he’s slipped into the part the same as he does every time we are out in public together. It would be disconcerting if I didn’t do something similar myself when I’m faced with literally anyone. I don’t think my family even knows the real me.
“Well, as you know, there have been many threats on my life. He’s not just eye candy…he’s functional too.”
Michail dips his warm fingers into the top of my dress at the center of my spine. A tingle rolls through me under the patterns he traces against my skin.