Page 20 of Prince of Control

There’s a sliver of me that also loves the way he takes care of me, but I want to stomp that piece of my heart into the sidewalk and grind it under the heel of my boot. I can’t let myself be attracted to him. I can’t allow myself to be seduced by his courtesy.

Although I may be feeling as possessive about him as he is about me because when the girl at the cafe blushed and spoke his name for one brief moment, I thought he’d slept with her, and I wanted to scratch his eyes out.

Is he a player? And what is this party everyone’s talking about? What is the dungeon? I meant to ask him about it at breakfast but forgot.

I exit my class and round the bend only to have a short, round young man barrel into me and drop his books.

“Blyad’.” He looks up from under a mop of unkempt hair. Then says in accented English, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right,” I reassure him in Russian, stooping to help him pick up his books and the papers that went flying everywhere.

His face lights up. “You’re Russian?”

I hand him the papers I collected. “Da. YA iz Moskvy.”

“I’m Denis,” he says as we both stand. He shifts his mess of books and papers to one arm and extends a hand.

I clasp his hand. “Lara. Nice to meet you.”

“I just started here. It’s a relief to know I’m not the only Russian on campus.”

“You’re not. I just started here too, actually.” I draw in a long breath and sigh it out.

It’s been a day. Considering how early I woke up, I’m ready for it to be over. Too bad I still have a marriage ceremony to get through.

“Actually, there are a bunch of Russian-Americans as well,” I tell him, thinking of the occupants of Baranov House.

“Not the same.” He dismisses them with a wave. “I guess I’m homesick.” His apologetic smile is lopsided.

My stomach twists. “So am I.”

“I don’t mean to be too forward, but I would love to get a drink or coffee with you.” He sends me a hopeful puppy look. “–just as friends,” he adds quickly. “I know you're out of my league.”

Aw, the guy is a dork but totally likeable. I hesitate. What’s the harm? Denis is homesick and needs someone he can talk to. I suspect Baron won’t like it. But that’s his problem, isn’t it?

“Sure,” I say. “Let’s do it.”

“Tonight? At Whisper’s End?” He names a corner street bar I saw near the bakery this morning.

“Not tonight. How about tomorrow?” I suggest.

He beams at me. “Tomorrow it is. Five o’clock?”

“Sure. See you there.”

I round the corner only to find Leo with his back propped against the wall. He’s looking at his phone, but a chill washes over me. He must’ve been standing there listening the whole time.

He sends me a white-toothed smile. “Privet, Lara.”

I stare back at him. I can’t think of anything to say because my mind is churning over the fact that I’m being spied upon.

“How’s your first day? Need help finding anything?”

“Nyet,” I snap and toss my head, walking as quickly away as I can without running.

My eyes burn as I push open the door and stumble outside, dying to be free. Not of the building but of my life.

Of this crazy situation.