Page 27 of Prince of Control

She relaxes a bit more now. “Yeah, I’ll be sure to keep my mouth shut around all my other Russian bratva contacts.”

“I mean it.”

She mimes zipping her lips and throwing away a key. “All right. Well, I would never mess with a married man, so no worries.”

I nod. “Glad you understand.”

Hearing the voices of my friends, she tries to look past me into the house. “You can’t come in here,” I reiterate.

“What about for parties?”

Ugh. I don’t want to ruin her social life, but I also don’t want any attention on Baranov House. I relent. “Twice a semester. For the biggest parties only.”

She rolls her eyes. “You’re a dick.”

As she turns to walk away, the part of me that needs to protect everyone around me surfaces. “If you’re ever in trouble–”

She looks back over her shoulder and sends me a forgiving smile. “You’d be the first guy I came to.”

I enter the house and find Lara stationed in front of the large picture-glass window. She’d seen everything.

Had she overheard? No. No way. We sound-proofed the house for parties. Sound wouldn’t carry in or out.

“Who was that?” she demands.

I hide the satisfaction her question brings. She cares. I doubt she’s jealous–she doesn’t care about me enough for that yet–but she staking her claim.

I walk over and lightly rest my hands on her waist. She skitters to the side but then settles, letting me touch her. “That’s Melinda Tracy.” I know the more truth I can offer Lara, the sooner she will learn to trust me.

“Her dad is running for Vice President, so I banned her from the house this year. She was pissed off about it.”

Lara stares up at me. Her eyes are the most stunning shade of blue, enhanced by the dark brown shade of her hair. I want to kiss her again.

Desperately.

I want to break down her walls as much as I want to strip off those clothes.

“Because illegal things happen here,” she surmises.

I shrug. “I don’t want undue attention on us. I would also hate for anyone to draw connections between her father and mine.”

“You’ve slept with her.”

“No,” I answer instantly to put her mind at ease.

Lara’s eyes narrow. “You showed her your ring.”

Right. She saw that. I consider my next words. While truth is the best policy, I’m not sure she’s ready to learn about the dungeon and the things I do–or used to do–down there.

“I did. She wanted something from me. Something I’ve given her in the past. But as you saw, I showed her my ring and ended things. You’re my wife. I’m not going to fuck around on you.”

Confusion scrambles her forehead. “What did she want from you?”

Gah. I hesitate.

She pushes my chest, and I drop my hands from her waist. “Hang on,” I say, but she’s already moving away from me.

She marches up the stairs, her perfect ass swaying with each step.