Page 17 of Jewel of the Assassin

But something else, something deeper than blood and bone,wantsto kneel before him.

After I finish the last bite, he finally unlocks the shackles.

But before I can even stretch my arms, hescoopsme up into his arms, stealing my breath. His body, his chest, is like a slabbed fortress of muscle.

“Where are you taking me?” I whisper, heart thundering.

His voice is a promise carved in stone. “It’s time for a bath.”

It’s not a bath.

It’s more like a hot tub on steroids.

The bathroom is a cathedral of stone, marble, and steam.

My breath catches as Roman carries me through the arched doorway. Thetubis carved directly into the marble floor, the white stone gleaming beneath the golden light.

Thick steam curls from the surface, and I breathe in the fragrance of the rose petals, reds and soft pinks across the surface. The water glows faintly, reflecting light from the high sconces above. My worn body aches for it.

But the view captivates me most.

The far wall is entirely glass. Three massive panes stretch nearly floor to ceiling. Just beyond them, the Alaskan wilderness unfolds with a sea of evergreens standing sentinel on the clifftop, needles coated in frost. The gray Bering Sea churnsbelow, so alive, crashing against the cliff face. The morning sunlight glistens off the surf, turning the caps as white as snow.

I stare, throat tightening.

It’s like standing on the edge of the world.

Roman sets me down with infuriating care beside the bath. My shackled heart clenches. All this primal beauty…it suitshim.

“Was this inherited or did you earn it?” I wonder softly.

“Oh, I earned it,” he says, circling behind me. “Through blood.”

So, he doesn’t just own the house. He owns the world that bleeds into it.

He owns me.

I’m so swept up in everything, I don’t notice until his hands are on my shoulders, pushing the straps down my arms, freeing me of the silk nightgown. I gasp, covering my chest with my hands until he grips my wrists and forces them down, chaining them at my belly.

“No,” he says with a dark warning, sharp and unrelenting. “You are mine, Valentina. Every inch. If I want you naked, you will be naked. And you will not hide from me.” I shiver, tears burning my throat. One hand chains my wrist while the other reaches up to cup my chin. He lowers his head to purr warm breath along my face. “In fact, you will present yourself with pride. Not one scrap of your flesh holds shame. You are more than beautiful, Moya Koroleva. You areglorious.” It leaves his mouth in thick Russian, sounding like ‘glor-ee-oos’.

His delighted and dangerous tone and his deeply hooded eyes staring with predatory intent all conspire against me, surging heat to my center.

“Now, I am going to release your hands, maya Valya. And you are free to tremble. But you will stand here while I explore my wife and praise her assets.”

I blink, lips parting. It feels like a small shockwave has detonated in my chest. I don’t know how to respond to this infuriatingman who is both a gentleman and devil with a leonine gaze prowling and devouring me.

I’m shell-shocked.

After inhaling deeply, nostrils flaring, Roman’s eyes stroll down my body. My nipples stiffen while hunger coils between my legs.

I mask my fear, burning my eyes against his. Arrogant asshole just smiles. Not arrogant. Just irritating authenticity and dark masculine intent.

His breath grows labored as his eyes stroke me, and that gives me a sliver of power. I stretch that power, lifting my chin and steadying my hands at my stomach. But when he opens his mouth, I hold my breath, heart in my throat.

“Every goddess who has ever walked the earth would shudder with the greatest envy at the sight of you, Valentina Makarova.”

I force my knees to remain strong, though my heart pounds.