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“I was wrong about that. You should wear what makes you happy, within reason.”

Wearing a garbage bag would make me happy if I was standing next to a man who loved me. Ugh! Why am I so needy? Hoping a man will fall for me has only led to trouble in the past. That asshole Dario wanders into my thoughts, but I swiftly kick him out again.

“So, what’s on the agenda for this afternoon?” I assume Piotr dropping by to see me is a mere interlude in his day.

“We can do whatever you want.”

We?He intends to spend the afternoon with me. He was serious about trying to be a husband.

“Uh, well, I was thinking of visiting the Louvre, but the line was insane when we passed by earlier.”

Piotr shakes his head and tuts reproachfully. “Olivia, you were a Volante. You’re now a Reznov. A woman of your status does not wait in line.”

I grimace. “It’s obnoxious to cut the line.” I mean, I’ve done it at clubs and restaurants back home, but it seems rude to do it in a foreign country.

Rolling his eyes, Piotr gets out his phone and lifts it to his ear.

“Sev, are you still in touch with Minette at the Louvre? Yeah. I want a private tour tonight at seven-thirty. Perfect.” He ends the call and puts his phone back in the pocket of his jeans.

“Do you always speak to your friend like he’s a servant?”

Piotr shrugs lazily. “He isn’t some wilting flower,malyskha. He doesn’t care how I talk to him.”

“I’ll bet he does. Even Bratva assholes have feelings.”

“You thought I didn’t.”

“True, but Sev is… uh… he seems like he has a sensitive side.” I spoke to him last night about his art collection. He said the paintings reminded him of some woman I’m pretty sure he’s pining for.

“Does he?” Piotr sounds unconvinced. “Should I send him flowers to apologize for my tone?”

“If anyone needs flowers from you, it’s me.”

“Who needs flowers when I’ve organized a private tour of the Louvre? I assume you heard that while analyzing my tone.”

“Yes, I did, and I’m looking forward to it, so thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“So what are we going to do until seven-thirty?”

“Well, first we’re going to split that éclair you’ve been hoping I didn’t notice. Then I’m going to take you back to the apartment, tie you to the bed, and fuck your beautiful ass.”

“Didn’t you say this afternoon was about what I wanted to do?”

“I did,” Piotr concedes. “Do you have a better suggestion?”

I try to come up with something, but my mind draws a blank. As much as I dread the idea of him taking that last piece of me, a part of me really wants to give it to him.

“Nope,” I say resolutely. “There’s nothing I’d rather do.”

CHAPTER 17

Olivia

When Piotr said he would tie me to the bed, I thought he would improvise, using whatever came to hand, like his belt or something. Instead, he’s come prepared with wide leather cuffs in a pretty shade of rose gold. They have shiny clips for them to be attached to something. I don’t know what he’ll fasten them to. Perhaps they clip together.

“Did you just have those lying around?” I ask, trying to lighten the mood, which has become unbearably intense.