8. Alfie

8

ALFIE

“ P ut us down here, Salvatore,” I command into my aviation headset.

My pilot’s head snaps in my direction, a show of momentary surprise as we hover over the south pasture of my new estate. The green grass ripples below us, mimicking the airwaves caused by the metallic bird. Salvatore knows better than to question my orders, but even with his eyes covered by dark lenses, I can see the unspoken question in his glance, considering we’re still a good distance from the barn.

“Yes, sir,” Salvatore confirms belatedly, facing forward once more.

A moment later, the helicopter starts to descend toward the uncut grass.

I hired a contractor this morning to install a helipad in the south pasture, as Mika requested. The work won’t begin until they can get the materials delivered—something my contractor assured me will happen within the next day or so. Once it’s installed, I can leave a car parked for the drive to and from the barn. In the meantime, it won’t hurt to land in the pasture and walk.

The seat jostles minimally beneath me as Salvatore makes an expert landing on the unpaved ground. Then the propellers slow, the thrumming whomp ebbing as the motor shuts off. It’s another bright day in a sunny week, and the heat of the morning seeps through the open helicopter door as I step down to the ground.

Marco and Vincent follow, falling into step behind me without a word.

In the distance, I can just make out the dark roof and white eaves of the barn that peek over the rolling hills between me and my destination.

A slow smile creeps onto my face when I think of Mika—and the fiery temper I’m sure to be met with. She doesn’t know I’m coming. This is the first time I’ll be dropping in unannounced, and I get the distinct impression that Mika does not like to be caught by surprise.

But I couldn’t stay away, so I’m here to discuss my new horses’ racing schedule. It’s a weak excuse to spend time with her, though I do need to decide when I’m going to reveal Nina’s surprise, and I think race day will make the news extra special. So, in that regard, my visit is as legitimate as it gets.

Still, that’s far from the only reason I’m here. As the tall grass whispers around me, brushing against the tailored legs of my trousers, I contemplate how to broach the subject again. Mika said she won’t be my mistress. But I can’t get our last encounter out of my head. The lean curves of her body molding perfectly against me—they haunt my every waking thought, and at least half of my dreams.

I felt how much she wanted me. And even if she wants to deny it, I intend to see just how serious she is about that line she refuses to cross. I get the sense that, behind all her sharp-tongued rejections, she craves orgasms and physical pleasure just like any other woman. I just need to convince her that being my mistress wouldn’t mean she’s any less significant to me than my wife.

Especially since breaking off my engagement with Ana Kapranov isn’t much of an option. Doing that would have severe consequences—ones I’m not overly enthusiastic about facing, not if I can convince Mika otherwise. Which is why I’m hoping if I give her a bit more of a nudge, we can reach an understanding.

Because I don’t like the alternative .

But whether I can convince Mika or not, I’m confident of one thing. I can’t control myself around her. Usually, I pride myself on my restraint, my ability to look at a situation objectively and stick to the most logical outcome.

I agreed to my engagement in the first place because I knew it would be best for our family—not because I particularly wanted to get married. And while I’ve heard she’s quite beautiful, that’s all just rumor until I see her walking down the aisle. After all, it’s in Nikolai’s best interest to have the world believe his daughter is exceptional. How else is he supposed to reap the most benefit out of her betrothal? It’s the way our world works, and I went into this arrangement willingly because I’m getting plenty out of our alliance as well.

Better trade opportunities, for one. And I’ll have far less challenges to face without having to sneak past the Russians every time I want to do business on the east side of the city. Not to mention, Nikolai’s daughter would be able to provide me with an heir.

But all of that feels inconsequential when it stands in the way of this thing between me and Mika. And I fully intend to have her—one way or another.

I can hear the familiar trill of Spanish before I reach the barn alley. It’s similar enough to Italian that I can make out the topic of conversation—even if I don’t actually speak the language. The hands are discussing the sale of the barn, their curiosity over what could convince the Carvers to sell when they were sure the couple would take this place to the grave with them.

Laughter echoes down the aisle as someone suggests that they would have found their graves a lot sooner than expected if they hadn’t sold the property. It’s familiar gossip—nothing I haven’t heard before. And I don’t mind the rumors. It’s a lot easier to get business done if people believe I’m capable of just about anything to get what I want.

The laughter stops abruptly as I take a step inside the barn, the heel of my dress shoe snapping smartly against the concrete. Several sets of eyes drop to the ground, the grooms busying themselves with cleaning the stalls they were working on .

“Morning, gentlemen,” I say, pretending I don’t know what they were talking about in the slightest. I don’t really want one of my first impressions here to be tyrannical. And I know from experience the gossip will die down after they’ve had some time to adjust to the new management. “I’m looking for Miss Harper.”

“She’s in the arena,” one of the grooms says, pointing toward the wide doorway halfway down the aisle.

“Thank you.” Heading in that direction, I catch the sound of Mika’s voice, muffled from the walls that stand between us. But I can just make out her directions to whoever’s riding—or rather, trying to wrangle what must be a yearling just learning to accept a saddle.

Rounding the corner, I catch my first glimpse of her. Hands planted firmly on her hips, she has her back to me. Her thick head of blonde curls is tied up in a messy bun once again. And today, she’s wearing a racerback top that shows off her mild farmer’s tan along with the hard muscles of her shoulders.

“Get your heels down, Max, if you want to stay on—and don’t let him put his head between his knees like that. If you keep his nose up, he won’t catapult you,” she commands.

But as Max leans back, anchoring herself in the saddle so she can bring the horse’s head up, he seems to think better of it.

“There you go. Now, just talk to him. Let him wrap his mind around it for a minute,” Mika coaches.

The rider does as she’s told, murmuring softly, though she keeps an iron grip on the reins.

“First time under saddle?” I ask, stepping up beside Mika.

Her head snaps in my direction, her hands falling to her sides as her captivating eyes find mine. “When did you get here?” she asks harshly. “I didn’t hear you land.”

“We walked in from the south pasture,” I say, smirking at her look of shock. “Landed about twenty minutes ago.”

“You walked all that way?” she echoes, her eyes dropping to my Italian leather dress shoes, like she can hardly believe I would do so in a suit. Then, her gaze flicks back up to meet mine. “I didn’t realize you were coming. Did I forget a meeting we set up? ”

“Not at all.”

“Then how can I help you, Mr. Bonetti?” Mika cringes, as if she regrets asking the question like she did. “Why are you here?” she rephrases before I can answer.

“I plan on attending some of the races this year. I’d like to know the schedule you’ve mapped out for our horses—which ones you intend to take which horses to.” Sliding my hands into the pockets of my trousers, I study Mika’s body language as she turns to face me.

Her shoulders sit about an inch higher than usual, her hands flexing as her back remains ramrod straight. She’s definitely not over the way we left things the last time I was here. And she’s not happy that I came without warning her.

“You didn’t need to make the trip up here for that,” she says, confirming my assessment. “I could have emailed you the schedule.”

A loose curl dances across her cheek as she speaks, finding the corner of her mouth. And before she can reach up to move it, I step closer, slipping my hand from my pocket to brush it behind her ear.

“I know, but seeing as I own the place now, I may as well indulge in all it has to offer,” I whisper, but Mika jerks away from me, taking a half step back.

Color infuses her cheeks, and she glances back toward the arena, where Max is now gently scratching her horse’s withers without allowing slack in the reins.

Clearing her throat uncomfortably, Mika gives me a sidelong glance before raising her voice. “Great job, Max. I think we can call that a success for the day. Why don’t you take a break before switching out? Tell Hector he can get Titan ready for you next.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Max says, and she casts a quick glance in my direction before slipping from the saddle.

Her yearling jolts, jumping sideways when her feet hit the soft arena sand, but Max is ready for him, her grip on the reins firm. And, after a moment, she has him back under control.

“She looks like she’ll make a good rider, with a few more lessons from you,” I note, trying to keep the smile from my face.

“She’s already a great rider,” Mika says flatly, gesturing for me to lead the way back into the barn alley. “She just needs more experience working with the babies.”

“Ah.” Shifting to the side, I place my hand on the small of Mika’s back, guiding her ahead of me. I feel her tense instantly.

As soon as we’re out of the narrow viewing platform along the side of the arena, Mika sidesteps me. It’s the same maneuver she used to get away from me the other day. Clearly, whatever attraction I uncovered when we were in Cosmic Fate’s stall has no bearing on today’s meeting. If anything, she seems more guarded. This is going to be a bigger challenge than I anticipated.

Mika leads me to her office once more, and as she steps inside, she leaves the door open wide. I follow her in, leaving my bodyguards in the alley as I take the doorknob from her grasp and close it behind us. Then I compress the lock so no one will disturb us.