Chapter 7 - Maxim

I sit in my home office, watching the security cameras as Chiara walks down the hallway toward the kitchen. It”s been a week since we moved into my place, and she has been exploring the mansion, talking to the staff, and getting to know the grounds and the people who work here.

Honestly, I”m surprised. I expected her to be stuck up, snobbish. I thought she would treat my staff as though they were there to serve her, and nothing else. But she has not shown one ounce of the diva attitude I was anticipating, and has been incredibly friendly to everyone. She even offered to help the chef cook dinner one night. The bodyguards I have assigned to her report that she is pleasant to have around and treats them with a lot of respect.

Right now, she is carrying her empty coffee mug back to the kitchen, even though she knows we have people to take care of those chores for her.

Nothing about her is as I expected it to be.

I switch cameras as I see Darya arriving and the housekeeper opening the front door for her. She insisted on coming over to meet Chiara properly, as she did not have a chance to talk to her at the wedding with all the commotion and so many people around.

She is carrying a gift bag as she walks into the house.

I watch the kitchen camera as the housekeeper enters, Darya close behind her.

“Chiara, miss. Darya has come to visit you,” she announces, then nods and steps out.

Chiara stands awkwardly for a moment, looking tense and unsure.

Darya rushes right over to her and hugs her. “It’s so nice to meet you properly. The wedding was so incredible, and you looked drop-dead gorgeous in that dress. Did you have someone make it especially for you?”

Chiara smiles tightly. “My father had it made for me.”

“Well, he has excellent taste. Come on, let’s grab a cocktail and have a chat outside on the patio. I would love to get to know you better. I hardly said two words to you at the reception. I can’t believe Maxim is married, and I didn’t even have a chance to meet his wife beforehand.”

Darya grins and gets to work making some cocktails for the girls.

I lean closer to the camera, studying Chiara’s expression. She seems wary, almost cautious of my sister.

I should go down there and try and ease her discomfort instead of leaving her in the company of someone she doesn’t even know. But then I realize she hardly knows me, and maybe it will be good for the two of them to spend some time together. Darya is the sweetest person, and can make anyone feel at home in her presence.

I have hardly spent any time with Chiara since she moved in with me. I”ve been trying to give her space to settle in; also, I know the real reason I married her, and I don’t really want to get caught up in the feelings I have when I am around her.

I struggle.

Because all I want to do is hold her against me and kiss her again.

That night we shared after our wedding was absolutely incredible.

I can still hear her soft moans and picture the way her lips parted slightly as I thrust into her.

I want that again.

But she asked me to leave right after, and even though it offended me, I didn’t want to push my luck with her or be where I wasn”t wanted, so I left.

When she moved in here, I made sure she had her own room, set up with everything she might need and made comfortable for her. I haven”t been in it, not even once, and when she goes to sleep at night, she locks the door.

It hasn”t been easy, controlling my urges around her, stopping myself from pushing her against a wall as we walk past each other in the hallways.

So I have resorted to watching her on the security cameras and staying out of her way.

I switch cameras as the two girls walk out onto the patio.

As they sit together, Darya dives into a hundred questions about who Chiara is, what she loves doing, what her dreams are, where she has traveled, what she studied.

I realize that I know none of these things about my own wife.

I listen intently, and watch in wonder as Chiara starts to relax, smile, and enjoy the conversation. I wish I could speak to her like that and look so comfortable and relaxed doing it.

Darya stands up, excusing herself to use the ladies” room, and Chiara grins and nods.

I keep watching my wife as she leans back in the patio chair and looks out over the garden, wearing the soft smile on her face that I am already becoming so fond of.

“What, exactly, are you doing?” Darya’s voice makes me jump right out of my office chair, as though I have been caught red-handed with my hand in the cookie jar.

“I”m watching,” I say defensively.

“Watching?” she echoes, sounding curious as she pushes her way around my desk so that she can see my laptop screen.

“The security camera? Are you joking right now? Why?”

“I”m watching Chiara, seeing what she is doing.”

“But why? I don’t get it,” she laughs.

“So that I can get to know her.”

Darya starts laughing in earnest. “You are such an idiot. Maxim. You can’t get to know someone through a video camera. You have to talk to her, interact, have dinner with her, go for a walk, anything. Just spend time with her. This is absolutely ridiculous.” She waves her hand at the screen.

She has no idea why our brothers arranged this marriage. She doesn’t understand that I need to spy like this to see if she does anything sneaky or makes a phone call that I need to hear. It’s not just about getting to know her, although I really do want that.

“Stop this right now.” She pushes my laptop closed, grabbing my arm and pulling me away from the desk. “Come and have a drink with us.”

“Not right now, I”m busy with—”

“Don’t even try it. You were busy spying. Now come spy in real life and watch her in person,” she grins. ”She”s gorgeous, I absolutely adore her.”

I reluctantly follow her out onto the patio, and Chiara stiffens when she sees me arriving behind Darya.

“Look who I bumped into,” Darya smiles sweetly.

“Good morning,” I say, nodding towards Chiara, and then, after a brief hesitation, lean down and kiss her cheek.

Darya carries on the conversation from where they left off, as casually as ever, and slowly we all become a little more relaxed.

She is right. I should get to know my wife in person instead of through the camera. She is a beauty to look at; her smile and her laugh keep me fully focused on her.

I find myself enjoying the morning and decide that I will definitely try and have lunch and dinner with Chiara every day.

After Darya leaves, Chiara turns to me, an awkward smile on her face.

“I am going to my room for a bit, to read.”

“Sure, I hope you have a good book? I can have anything you need ordered?”

“No, I have a good book, thank you.”

She turns to walk away.

“Chiara. Before you go, would you like to join me for dinner tonight? There”s a lovely restaurant that makes the most amazing seafood—do you like seafood?”

She shifts her weight. “Yes, that sounds nice, thanks.”

I nod, awkwardly.

She smiles tightly. “I’ll see you later, then.”

“Later.”

She walks away from me, and I watch her body as it sways.

My phone rings loudly in my pocket, pulling my attention from her and the thoughts I was about to get lost in.

“Paval, how are you?”

“Good, and you?”

“Things are going well,” I say.

“Kiril and I wondered if you had any updates for us. Regarding information, you know.”

“Nothing yet, but I”m working on it.”

“Alright, well, please do, because we need to find out what”s going on.”

“I know. I”ll be in touch soon.”

I feel guilty when I hang up the phone, knowing that I have not been properly focused on the entire plan. I have to step up my game. Spending more time with her will help me do that.

At seven o”clock that evening, Chiara walks down the stairs toward me, wearing a gorgeous tight black dress that shows off her beautiful long legs in taunting ways.

“I’m ready,” she says politely.

Outside, I hold the car door open for her, then climb into the back seat next to her. The driver takes off toward the city, and we sit silently in the back. The tension feels awkward, but what feels worse is the heat from her body and the way her leg brushes against mine. I want to run my hand up her thigh and slip my fingers beneath that short skirt of hers.

“How have you been enjoying your new home? Are you settling in alright?”

“Yes, thank you,” she replies, looking out of the window.

Dinner at the restaurant is good because it”s nice to get out of the house with her, but at the same time, she”s quite cold towards me, keeping a distance, and conversation doesn”t flow naturally since she keeps her answers short. She seems wary of me and refuses to open up, not the way I saw her chatting away to Darya, and it disappoints me.

When we arrive home, I go to kiss her goodnight. She turns her cheek toward me, and as my lips brush over her warm skin I hear the softest moan escape her, but she goes straight to her own room afterward, politely wishing I sleep well and closing the door.

I sigh in frustration as I make my way to my bedroom alone.

The next day, and in the days that follow, I make sure to have lunch and dinner with her every chance I get, but nothing seems to change between us. Nothing except the heavy sexual tension that continues to build in me.

Her body brushes against mine and electricity shoots through me. She pauses as I press her against the kitchen counter when I reach past her to pick up the cutlery, and I know she feels it as well, so why is she resisting everything? Her body is tight against mine, and just for a moment, she pushes her hips toward me, and the fire between us increases. Then she moves away, pretending to reach for the plates.

“I’ll take these through,” she says as she walks away from me, leaving me with my cock pressing against my pants.

I close my eyes and take a slow breath, then pick up the cutlery and follow her out onto the patio where we plan to eat tonight.

“The sunset is quite beautiful tonight,” I say, but my eyes are on her, noticing how the glowing light reflects on her hair and shines like precious stones in her eyes.

She nods. “It is very pretty.” Beneath the table, my legs are touching hers, and my body is begging me to take her.

We eat dinner quietly as I wonder how, exactly, I am going to break through the guarded barriers that she has up around herself. I won’t find out anything about her, or her family, at this rate. And even though I know she feels this tension as well, I doubt she will let me share her bed anytime soon.

I keep glancing over at her, flashes of our wedding night playing through my mind. She enjoyed it, every moment of it, I know she did. She must think of it, too.

Her eyes lock with mine, and the intensity of her stare, the way her gaze drops to my lips, tells me I am right.

Sex with her was incredible.

I have to feel her again.

I don’t know how much longer I can wait.