Chapter 24

Drink this and take these

My eyes come into focus on the note stuck to the bottle of water sitting on my nightstand.

Even his notes are bossy.

I sit up, immediately regretting every sip I took last night as the first bang of the hammer hits my skull.

After swallowing the tablets and drinking most of the bottle of water, I shove the heavy comforter away and drag myself to the bathroom to get cleaned up.

Sergei's words come back to me in full force and my chest aches with the memory. It shouldn't. I know it shouldn't. We have an arrangement. Nothing he said last night was unknown. Our relationship doesn't involve feelings.

Amazing, mind-blowing sex, yes, and often. But feelings aren't part of the question. I knew that going in.

I have to set my mind right about this. Mom has a safe place to live with the best care I could ask for. I have a roof over my head and my debts are all paid.

What else could I ask for?

Love will happen in my next marriage.

My real marriage.

I tie my hair up off my neck and dress in a pair of denim capris and a soft pink t-shirt. My shoes are nowhere to be found, so I head downstairs barefoot. I probably kicked them off in the living room yesterday and forgot.

Voices carry from the kitchen.

My shoes are not in the living room either.

I need coffee and something to settle my stomach. Then I'll go searching.

"Do you want any more?" Sergei offers a spoonful of oatmeal for my mother.

She grimaces and turns her face away.

"I guess not," he says gently and puts the spoon back into the bowl.

Mom leans back in her chair. Her hair has been washed and brushed already.

"Mom?" I step into the kitchen. "What is she doing in here?" I take in the bowl of half-eaten oatmeal and a glass of orange juice.

"She wanted to go outside." Nora, the morning nurse answers me from the other side of the kitchen where she's drinking a cup of coffee.

"I took her through the garden in the back and then Nora said it was time for her breakfast." Sergei gives me a searching look. "How are you feeling?"

"You took her for a walk?" I step up to the table. "Outside?"

"I did. And we had a nice talk."

"She talked to you?" Mom hasn't said much at all for weeks. A word here and there, but otherwise she's become mostly nonverbal.

"Well, I did all of the talking, but she was nice enough to smile a few times," he explains.

I glance back at Nora who nods, as though to confirm what Sergei is telling me.

"I'm sorry you had to do that," I say.

"I haven't had a chance to really spend time with your mother. This was good." He sounds assuring. "Do you want coffee?" He quirks an eyebrow, like he knows full well I'm not feeling well.

"Let me get Mom back to her room, then sure." I reach for the handlebars of her wheelchair, but Sergei stops me.

"You get a cup of coffee. I'll take her back. She seemed to enjoy the garden, maybe this afternoon we should bring her back outside. The patio in the back of the guest wing isn't as nice."

I blink a few times.

What is he up to?

"I think she'd love that." Nora puts her coffee cup in the sink and joins us at the table. "I can bring her back to her room. She's probably going to fall right asleep once she's comfortable."

I lean down and kiss my mom's cheek. Soft and warm, just like all the memories I have of her. She even has the same lavender vanilla scent as always, but when I look into her eyes, I see the truth. She's not here anymore.

My chest aches. I miss her so much.

She smiles up at me and moves her hand to rest on my arm.

For a moment I think she's going to say something. Her mouth opens a little.

But then she closes it, and her hand slides into her lap.

"I'll be by soon," I tell Nora as she wheels Mom away from the table and out of the kitchen.

"Sorry I slept so late," I say to Sergei as I pick up Mom's bowl and glass.

"You needed it." He stands up and takes the dishes from me. "Sit. I'll get you coffee and some toast."

"I can—" The stern look he flashes at me kills the rest of my sentence.

"Sit." He nods to the chair, and I sink into it.

He's dressed in a black button-down shirt and a pair of dark gray slacks. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, showing off the muscles of his forearms.

I have to avert my gaze. All of his movements are seductive, and I know it's not on purpose.

Which really makes it worse.

"Cream and sugar?" he asks from the kitchen island.

"Yes. Both, please." I nibble on the inside of my lip while he drops one small spoonful of sugar into the mug. "Can you put a little more sugar?"

He looks up at me, then drops in another spoonful. The spoon hovers over my mug as he gives me a questioning look.

"Just a little more." I pinch my fingers together.

The left side of his mouth kicks up just a fraction. It's a tiny movement, but it's enough to make the sexiest little crease on his cheek.

He stirs in the creamer then brings it to me, placing it in front of me as the toaster pops up the toast.

"Butter?" he asks.

"Yes, please, just a little." I cradle the coffee in both hands as I bring it to my lips. Mmm, heaven.

"Enough sugar?" He spreads butter across two pieces of toast.

"Yes. Thank you." I smile into the mug and take another sip. Nothing is better in the morning than coffee.

Well, I guess I can think of one other thing.

He sits across from me once I have the toast in front of me and drinks from his own coffee cup. The first bite makes my mouth water. I must be hungrier than I thought; I devour the first piece in no time.

"I'm sorry about last night." I finish off the second piece of toast and go back to my coffee. "I don't usually drink. And I haven't been that drunk since my first year of college."

He cocks an eyebrow. "You got drunk when you were that young?"

"Oh, please." I sip my coffee. "Tell me you weren't drinking vodka when you were a toddler?"

He lifts a shoulder. "It's different back home."

"Well. Anyway, I didn't mean to get that drunk. I hope I didn't embarrass you at your cousin's house."

"No. You didn't embarrass me." He leans back in his chair, his elbows dropping from the table.

"Good." I push a smile onto my face.

"I saw the articles, Cora," he says after a long pause.

My stomach rolls again.

"Articles?" Maybe if I play dumb, he won't want to tell me all the horrible things that a certain journalist likes to say about me.

"You know what I'm talking about." He splays his hands out on the table, flexing his fingers. I notice his knuckles are bruised on his right hand.

"What did you do?" I pick up his hand, running my thumb over the swelling joints.

"There won't be any more articles like that," he promises me.

"Sergei." I sigh. "Tell me you didn't go over to that guy's house in the middle of the night and beat him up."

"I didn't."

I search his eyes. He's telling me the truth.

"Did you send someone else to do it?" I hedge.

He lifts a shoulder. "I own the company now. He's been let go." He flexes his hand again. "After he was let go, we had a discussion about his opinion."

"You bought the newspaper?" I drop his hand. "Because they said something bad about the way I look?"

He drops his chin. "You know what he was saying is bullshit, right?"

"I know it was his opinion." I nod. "I won't lie and say it didn't sting, but you didn't need to do that."

He stares at me longer, like he's trying to see inside of me. "His words hurt you."

Sergei's words hurt last night, too; should I tell him that? What would he even do about it?

"I know you meant well, thank you for that. But promise me if some other tabloid starts saying stupid things, you won't buy that company too."

He raises a brow. "I can't make that promise."

I guess I should be happy that he's not going to lie to me about it.

"He was right about one thing though," he continues. "I've been hiding you away. But that has to end. You're my wife now, and you need to be seen with me. Kustov Metals works with the government. We have several military contracts. I'm going to be in the public eye more and more."

"Won't that draw more attention to… well, other things you don't want attention on?"

"Maybe for a little while, but that's easy to fix. Once I've dismantled the company, it won't be an issue at all."

I only nod. Destroying the company may feel good to him at the moment, but I'm not sure how long it will last.

"Well, if you need me to go to a dinner or something with you, I can do that."

"Good. There's an event tomorrow night. You'll be going with me." His chair scrapes against the floor as he stands up.

"Wait." Panic crashes on me. "I don't have anything to wear. I need more time than that to find something."

"I know. That's why we're spending the afternoon shopping."

"Shopping?" I blink a few times. Is he ill? "Don't you have work?"

"I have a few things to do before we go; you have two hours to get ready." He walks to the swinging door. "And Cora?"

I turn in my chair to look up at him. His jaw moves from side to side as his eyes bore into me, sending tingles up my spine.

"I already like you."