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“Um. No. I’m-I’m fine. Thank you.”
I’m more than fine. Even with our exchange ending awkwardly, I used it to stimulate myself—more than once.
That was unheard of only last week. I’ve never been interested in self-pleasure, but knowing a man as powerful and handsome as Ark self-stimulates made it less daunting.
I made myself come—multiple times. It didn’t feel as good as it did when Ark made me climax, but I won’t be so quick to turn down the idea if it were the only thing on offer.
Ignoring the grumble of my stomach, which I’m not entirely sure is based on actual hunger, I ask, “Are you okay? Things s-seem a little…tense.”
He smiles, wordlessly expressing his gratitude for my concern, before he plucks the surface spray out of my hand and heads for the servants’ entrance. “It isn’t anything I can’t handle.” He dumps the bottle onto the cart before spinning to face me. “Have you eaten today?”
His growl when I shake my head forces my thighs together.
“I’m not m-much of a breakfast eater.” That’s a lie. I tell Tillie a minimum of once a week how important breakfast is. I just skip it when things are tight. Tillie’s birthday party made things tight.
Ark folds his arms in front of his chest before asking, “Did you read the employment contract I forwarded with your schedule?”
I nod. “Yes. M-multiple times.”
“So you saw that lunch is provided for all employees?”
Again, I nod.
“That term now includes breakfast.” I try to interrupt, but he speaks too fast for me to keep up with. “Starting now.”
When he flattens his hand on the small of my back and guides me toward the exit, I stammer out, “I’ve only just s-started. I can’t stop for breakfast.”
I learn he is watching me more closely than I realize when he says, “Despite popping into Val’s office to ask about her weekend, you still arrived thirty minutes before your shift. That’s plenty of time to squeeze in some breakfast.”
We make it halfway to the kitchen before Ark’s long strides halt, and his hand falls from my back like he was scorched from our near touch.
I don’t know the woman standing across from us, glaring at me, but Ark most certainly does.
“Mother, what are you doing here?”
19
ARKADIY
“What happened to not judging a book by its cover?” I thrust my hand at my office door as if Mara stands on the other side. Its shake is unmissable. I’m not scared. I am furious about the way my mother ignored Mara’s offer of an introduction before dragging me away from her as if she has the plague. “You don’t know Mara. She’s?—”
She cuts me off with the same excuse she gave me multiple times the past forty-eight hours. “Going to ruin your political career. Your campaign for the presidency is just taking off. Being involved with a woman who has a child will complicate things.”
“How?” Not needing to hear her answer to know which direction she will take, I issue the poorest excuse in the book. “Mara is an employee. I’m not…fuckingher.”
She looks at me like she knows all my sordid thoughts, her lips pressed into a thin line. “You’re not seeing that woman?—”
“Mara,” I snap out. “Her name is Mara.”
She doesn’t fold as easily as Veronika. “You’re not seeing that woman for who she is. The similarities between her life and Karolina’s have distracted you from your objectives.” Anger surges through me when she says, “You choose a life of solidarityfor a reason, Arkadiy. You know the odds if you were to become a family man, yet you want to play with fire like there’s no possibility you will get burned.”
I step closer, my voice trembling with fury. “It is a little too late to worry about me getting burned, wouldn’t you say, Mother?”
She scoffs as if my anger isn’t valid. “People will talk, and they will judge. Then once their curiosity rises to a point they can’t ignore as to why you picked her out of all the women in the world you could have settled down with, they will dig and dig and dig untilallaspects of both of your lives are on display for the world to see. Is that what you want, Arkadiy? Do you want your dirty laundry aired for the masses to sniff?”
Just the prospect of my secrets being shared would usually have me backing away instantly with my hands held in the air, but it isn’t as easy to do this time. Mara fascinates me, and every red-blooded man knows obsession is the most potent drug on the market.
As my mother stands, her eyes flashing with determination, I suck in the scent of Mara’s shampoo, hopeful it will cool the fire raging inside me when she says, “This is not about your happiness, Arkadiy. It is about the image you agreed to present on behalf of our family when you made the decision you did years ago. Certain things are expected from you. Being involved with a single mother won’t fulfill those expectations. It could ruin everything.”