Chapter 13 - Maxim

Pearl sweeps into the room like an angel descending from the heavens, her skirt trailing on the floor. The little crop top she wears shows off the slip of skin between the hem of her shirt and the top of the skirt.

Heads turn as she passes them, but she's a woman on a mission, her mouth set in a grim line as she heads straight toward my table.

"You could look a little happier to see your future husband," I say, mocking her as she draws closer to the table, not paying attention to the dozen or so men still staring after her.

Briefly this morning, I'd considered making this a calm meeting, taking our time to talk instead of arguing with each other. Maybe seeing what it would take to get her to be more agreeable.

After all, she is the only one who could save me from Irina.

Except when I see her, I can't resist the urge to get under her skin, to fire her up, and see those flames flash in her eyes.

Pearl drags out her chair and sits across for me, one leg loping over the other. Her foot bounces in time with the music as she looks around, spying on the men I have in the corner watching over us. "You think you need protection from me?"

"Maybe. I think we've established that I still don't know you and I pissed you off a few nights ago. I don't think you're going to take too kindly to talk about my proposal. And if you try to jump me and strangle me, I'd like somebody to try to get between us."

"I'm more of a poison girl."

I snap my fingers, pointing at her, smirking when the corner mouth twitches as if she's trying to hold back laughter. "I knew you didn't hate me as much as you pretend to."

"I never said I hate you. I am pissed off with you. You decided to fly back. You decide to cut me off. Then you decide that we're going to get married. We're in this process have I made a single decision?"

"You're the one who decided to talk today."

"Only because I was certain you'd come breaking down my door soon if I didn't give you an answer."

"I might have. That all depends on whether you've been seeing other men or not."

Her eyelashes flutter as her eyes widen with shock. "No. I haven't been on a date since that night you and I went out."

For a moment I study her, trying to determine if she's lying to me or not. There are no micro-expressions that change. No twitch of a muscle here or a quick glance away that would suggest that she's making stories up or telling me what she thinks I want to hear.

If she hasn't gone out since the night, we went out together, then maybe there is something redeeming between the two of us.

Maybe this doesn't have to be a union neither of us wants.

Pearl rolls her shoulders back, her gaze drifting toward the tin ceiling above us as she avoids looking at me. "If I agree to marry you, there's something I need you to do."

I lean against the booth, my arms stretching out over the back of it. "I had assumed as much. You always seem to have conditions."

"Can you blame me? Most people would have those when making a deal with the devil."

"I'm honored you think my work is as good as his," I smirk and lean forward, taking her hand with one of mine, my finger tracing along her pulse. "You're nervous about being here with me. You don't have to be. I'm not going to hurt you. "

"I don't think you are." She pulls her hand from mine, wiping it on her skirt. "But I also don't know how much I can trust you. How are you as a husband going to be able to protect me? I know you have enemies."

"You'll go to the shooting range. You'll train with my men. If you want to, I can assign people to watch over you."

I settle back into my seat, watching her, waiting for something to jump out. Something odd about her behavior that doesn't quite line up with what she's saying.

Nothing comes. She might not be happy about being here and having this discussion, but at least she's calm.

Pearl reaches for her water and takes a sip. "You think that's enough to stop your enemies? What if it turns out to be somebody close to you coming after me? I'd be your wife. They'd want to kill me to get to you."

"I mean this in the kindest way possible, Pearl, but have a survival instinct. Between being a wild animal and being as charming as you are, I think you'd be just fine. I was out there with you in the woods, remember? On the way back to the house, you picked up on tracking other animals like a pro. You are a little huntress. So, do I have to worry about you being able to handle yourself? I don't think so. But maybe I should watch my back." I lift my eyebrows, challenging her.

She smirks. "Seems like you have more faith in me than I have in you."

"That doesn't surprise me." I grab the menu and flip it open, glancing through the options. "Now are you going to tell me what you need from me, or are you going to keep dragging out this little bullshit game you like to play?"

"I want you to help me find someone. If you want me to marry you, you're going to help me track that person down."

That's all she's asking for in exchange.

She wants me to help her find a certain person when she has money to hire a private investigator if she wanted. She could find whoever she wanted in the world without my help, she doesn't need me.

And yet she wants me to be the one to help her. I'm more intrigued than I've ever been before about her and what she's hiding from me.

When we're married, she won't have these little secrets. Sooner or later, she'll have to open up to me.

"Come sit next to me." I nod to the booth seat beside me. "If we're going to be talking business, we shouldn't be shouting over the table at each other. Come over here, sit down, and we can talk about our marriage."

With an annoyed sigh as she stands up and moves over to my side of table, sitting down beside me. It's only when she moves that I notice the slit in the skirt that climbs high to her upper thigh almost to the point of her hip.

That's going to be the first skirt she stops wearing out in public. It's going to find a permanent home on my floor, and she'll never be able to get out of the house while she's wearing it.

She takes her menu, flipping through the pages until she finds one with seafood dishes on it. "What are your expectations for me in this marriage?"

"You're going to be loyal to me and nobody else. There's not going to be another man in your life."

"If I have to be loyal to you, then you have to be the same for me. No whoring around. No affairs. I won't tolerate it."

My hand falls to her thigh, fingers slipping just beneath her slit to her bare skin. A deep red hue climbs up her chest and neck, slowly tinting her cheeks.

"What are you doing?" she hisses as she reaches beneath the table to swat my hand away.

I clamp down tighter on her thigh, not moving. "Nothing."

"You are. You wanted me to come and sit here so you can feel me up."

"I thought it would be more conducive to my side of the conversation if I kept you on your toes."

"If you want to keep your fingers, I suggest you stop touching me and start telling me what this marriage is going to look like for you."

"The normal way a marriage looks. You're going to be my wife and you're going to stand by my side in all matters. When the time comes, we're going to have children, though that has to be handled sooner rather than later due to the interests of the Bratva."

"And why do the interests of the Bratva play into our lives?" She squeaks as my hand climbs higher up her thigh, hidden beneath the charcoal grey tablecloth. "You need to stop doing that. People are going to think you're fingering me under the table."

"Let them think whatever they want."

She shoots me a glare before pressing her thighs closer together and scolds me. "Maxim."

"I prefer it when you moan my name."

"You're causing a scene. You know that, right? Look at that poor waiter over there. |He knows exactly what you're doing, and he doesn't want to come over here."

"I don't give a shit what he thinks he knows. What's happening between us is none of his business. |And we both know that you're enjoying it right now. I wonder how wet you are for me. You were soaked the last time I was touching you."

With a nod to the waiter, I sit back in the seat, my hand still on her thigh.

The waiter comes closer, and as he weaves around the last table on his way to get to us, I lean closer to Pearl. "You're going to place the order."

My fingers climb higher up her thigh as the waiter stops at the edge of the table and pulls out his notepad.

"Welcome to Evergreen. What can I get for you tonight?"

Pearl bites down on the inside of her cheek hard when my fingers brush against the fabric covering her core. "We'd like to start with the whipped feta please."

The waiter scribbles it down as she shifts against the seat.

I can't tell if she's trying to build more friction or get away from me, and I don't care. Not when I can feel her arousal soaking through her thong. But the way I know her, she likes the thrill, and doing something naughty excites her as much as it does me.

She gasps softly as I slip my fingers against her clit, pressing down and swirling. "We'd also like the teriyaki salmon with braised vegetables for me, and he'll have the bacon and brie burger with fries."

I press my lips in the hollow just below her ear. "Good girl."

As her reward, I pull my fingers away from her pussy, waiting until the waiter has turned his back to us before sucking her juices from my finger.

"You taste as sweet as you look right now."

Her bottom lip quivers slightly, a question burning in her eyes.

As much as she pretends, she doesn't like what just happened, she wants me.

I drag her earlobe between my teeth. "I told you that if you wanted me to fuck you, you were going to have to beg for it."

Pearl reaches for her water, downing half of it in one long gulp, but she would probably prefer a cold shower.

I know that when I get home the only thing, I'm going to be doing is fucking my fist to the thought of her.

And then, I tell Yegor to plan the wedding.