To Have and to Master (Masters Unleashed 3)
“Some,” she answered in the same language. “But I am not so good.”
“You’ll need to practice.”
“Yes.” The word “sir” hung in the air and she wondered why. This wasn’t one of her papa’s friends. This was possibly going to be her husband. She didn’t need to call him “sir.”
They fell into an uncomfortable silence again. Ugh, she was ruining this. Her mind spun, trying to think of clever things to say, but nothing came to mind. She wasn’t witty like Antonia. Or smart like her other cousin, Lina. Why Baba Nina had chosen her for her beloved Konstantin over all the other girls was still a mystery. She would try to make her proud, and her father as well. If she messed it up, they’d all be disappointed with her.
“Do you miss Russia?” she asked. People liked talking about themselves, so if she could keep him talking, maybe she could learn more about him and not seem so awkward.
“In English,” he ordered.
From someone else it might have seemed rude, but from him it was sexy.
He wanted her to practice already? She stared at the road, biting her lip, afraid to embarrass herself. She could feel his gaze on her, hot and uncomfortable. Something about him made her feel like her insides were melting. She couldn’t deny he was attractive—probably the most handsome man she’d ever met—but danger lurked under the charm. Part of her felt slightly afraid, but part was intrigued. What would he be like in his own home?
“Sorry, that came out rude.” He switched back to their native tongue. “I’m not asking you to give up your heritage. I want to see how well you speak English so I know if you’ll need a tutor, and so I know if you can go to the bank or the grocery store without someone to translate for you.” Placing a hand on her arm, he stopped her in place. “Do you understand?”
She nodded. “Do you miss Russia?” she asked again, this time in English. Her pronunciation wasn’t perfect, but she could tell he understood.
“Very good.” He smiled encouragingly, and she wondered why pleasing him gave her such a good feeling. “Yes, sometimes. I’ve lived in America so long that it feels more like home now. I would visit more often if I had a Russian wife who wanted to visit her family.”
“Baba Nina would like that.”
“Probably.” He laughed sheepishly, as though it was something Nina hounded him about regularly.
“The tattoos? Do you have a brother?”
He lifted a brow at her and she wondered if he’d think she was prying. “Two. They’re not brothers by blood, but they’re the family I’ve chosen and mean just as much.”
Varushka was tempted to ask him about the men, but she didn’t want him to think she was meddlesome. If he wanted to tell her more, he would.
She craned her neck to look up at him. He was so big and made her feel so tiny. The day after tomorrow, she was going to travel with him to a foreign country. She’d be completely dependent on this . . . stranger. The weight of what she’d agreed to came crashing down on her.
What if he discovered he didn’t like her? What if she wasn’t what he wanted? Would he abandon her there, alone with no job, no money? Would he ignore her, letting her live in his house only out of obligation? What if he was cruel or abusive? A million ways this could end badly came to mind. Her chest ached.
Then she remembered what Antonia had told her—the one way guaranteed to win over a man. It would be bold move, and so unlike her, but the panic was too much to bear. If Antonia’s idea would help her win his affection, and survive, she could make herself do it.
Standing on tiptoe, she stretched up and kissed him. She’d never kissed a man on the lips before. It felt strange but pleasant. His lips were soft and tasted like wine. She wasn’t sure where to put her hands so she just let them dangle at her sides.
His lips moved against hers, as though he enjoyed it as well. Maybe Antonia had been right. But a second later, he pushed her gently away.
“Whoa,” he mumbled, staring down at her. “Slow down there, sweetness.”
Panic struck. Had she done something wrong? Had he not liked the kiss? Oh god. Her heart was in her throat. Had she messed things up already? She pressed her hand to her forehead and stumbled back a few steps.
“I’m sorry,” she muttered. “I apologize, Sir. That was too forward of me and—”
“Sir?”
She cringed. “I mean, I’m sorry, Konstantin. Antonia told me American men liked when girls were . . . When they were . . .” Her cheeks burned as she fumbled for words.
“She told you we like forward girls?”
Her gaze flew to his face in shock. She expected anger, but he smiled in amusement.
“You’re not upset with me?”