Chapter 17

A loud crash of silverware scares me awake.

"What is it?" I scramble to jump out of bed, getting caught up in the sheets and fall to the floor.

"Shit." Sergei is at my side, grabbing me and pulling me out of the twisted sheets. "Are you alright?" He yanks the sheets from my legs and settles me back on the bed.

I blink a few times, the fog of sleep still hovering.

"Yeah. I think so." I rub the heel of my hand into my eyes. "What was that?"

He rubs my knee where it hit the floor. The ache fades beneath his touch.

"I knocked the damn tray off the dresser." He looks at my other knee before getting to his feet. "You're unhurt."

I tilt my head back so I can see him better. He's too damn tall. With him standing in front of me like this, I'm practically level with his cock. Though his jeans are hiding it at the moment, I know it's there. Right behind the zipper.

Which makes me remember how good it felt last night.

And this morning.

"Of course I'm not hurt. I just fell from the bed, not the roof of the house." I pull my legs up, feeling the blush bursting across my face. I untangle the bedding as best I can then slide beneath it, yanking a blanket up to my chest and tucking it around me.

It's past noon and I'm still not dressed.

He drags the back of his knuckles across my cheekbone. "You blush so easily."

"I blush when I'm the only one naked in the room." I brush his hand away. "Can you hand me my nightgown? I need to shower." I point to the garment he tossed to the foot of the bed this morning when I tried to put it on.

"You don't need to get dressed just to walk across the room to the bathroom." He ignores my request then goes back to the mess he made. Silverware is strewn about the floor and a plate is upside down on the carpet, the grilled cheese sandwich it held several steps away from it.

"Was that my lunch?" I ask, wiggling down with the blankets tucked around me so I can get to my shirt.

"It was." He picks up the plate and silverware, dropping both on the tray he's put back on the dresser. "I'll get a new sandwich."

"You don't have to. I'll go downstairs after I shower." I pop my head through my nightgown to find him glaring at me. "I need to get dressed, Sergei. I can't stay in bed all day," I argue with him as I slide off the bed, my feet hitting the plush carpeting below.

I've never felt anything so soft before. The carpeting at my apartment was basically one-ply toilet paper compared to this. Even growing up, we had a nice home, but this is like walking across clouds.

"Why can't you stay in bed when that's where I want you?" He drops the small bowl that held cut-up watermelon onto the tray.

If he keeps looking at me this way, I'm going to combust.

"I have things to do."

"Like what?" He snaps the question but softens his stance. "What do you need to do?"

"Well, check on Mom for one. And get back to applying for jobs." I rattle off the last sentence, knowing what he's going to say.

"You don't need a job," he says with concrete finality and a look that suggests I don't argue with him on the subject.

"Sergei." I take a breath. "You've been very generous. It's kind of like living in a dream, but in a year from now, I'm going to have to wake up from this dream and find a way to support myself and Mom. So, it's better if we just start off the way we mean to go on." I start my dramatic exit toward the bathroom, but only get three steps before his arm anchors around my middle and he hauls me off the floor.

"Very good point," he says, plunking me back in the bed. Before I can swat his big paws away, he grabs hold of my nightgown and yanks it over my head. "This is how we mean to go on. You doing what I say. And I say no clothes."

"I was getting into the shower!" I argue, grappling for the bedding again.

"You can shower once you promise you'll stop planning your life a year from now." He climbs on the bed, settling himself over me, pushing me back against the pillows.

"You're not being reasonable," I say just before his mouth brushes against mine.

"I don't have to be when it comes to you." He moves to my throat, nuzzling me in the little sensitive area he found last night behind my ear.

"Krista told me something about your family."

He stills and shifts backward to look at me. "What did she say?"

"She said that Petrovs don't divorce. That you're not going to ever let me go."

"And what did you say?" He cocks his head.

"I said you wouldn't do that. You made a deal." I lick my lips. His expression flattens and I'm suddenly aware that I've ventured into a topic I'm not sure we should be walking into.

"She's right. It is a tradition in the Petrov family never to divorce. Marriage is forever." He sinks back a little more.

"But you said."

"Why do you waste time worrying now about what will happen a year from now?" He leans in, kissing my throat, my cheek. "Only worry about today, Cora." He nips at my earlobe.

"You're trying to distract me from the subject. You can't stop me from getting a job, if I want one."

He growls and leans away again, leveling a sizzling glare on me. "You told me you had to quit school to take care of your mother. Yes?"

He's trying to be patient; I can give him points for that. His eyes are all stormy and his jaw looks ready to crack, but he is trying.

"That's right." I nod.

"So, you don't need a job, you need to finish school." He snakes his hand around my neck, pulling me to him and stopping the whole world by kissing me until my toes curl.

When he breaks the kiss he stares at me, waiting probably for me to argue, but I'm too lost in the tingling his kiss left behind to remember where the conversation went.

"Shower and dress. I will bring back food."

"I can?—"

He covers my mouth with his hand. "You can, but you won't. I want you in my bed today. All day. So, whatever clothes you insist on putting on, understand I'm going to be ripping them off after I've made sure you've eaten."

I blink as he hops off the bed and stalks to the door. He's barefoot.

Sergei is walking around the house barefoot in a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt. Like any other ordinary person would.

But he's not ordinary.

Nothing about this is normal.

As I climb into the hot stream of water, I freeze.

Did I win the argument or not?