Page 9

A week had come and gone since the wedding, and in all honesty, I had no idea what to do with myself or all of the pent-up agitation inside me.

I was restless, like I was wound up too tight, and I was just waiting to implode. It gnawed at me in the pit of my stomach, and it only seemed to get worse the longer I was around her.

Tia’s presence in the house was constant and maddening, looming over me, dangling there like a treat I couldn’t have.

It’s not that I didn’t want her near me. The opposite was true.

I wanted her more than anything. I needed her, and something about that was incredibly frustrating, especially given how she wanted nothing to do with me.

Initially, I thought I’d be able to get over it, and that with time, that need would calm down.

But of course, that was far from the truth.

While I knew well enough going into it that she would try to avoid me, I didn’t anticipate just how incredible she was at exactly that.

I did my best to go about my business and to seem unbothered by it, but every time I came across her somewhere in the house, I couldn’t help the way my resolve faltered.

Even with her scalding looks aimed at me, revealing how much disdain she felt, it made me want her more.

I didn’t know why. I couldn’t understand why it was Tia specifically who got me so riled up, but I couldn’t deny her.

Regardless of how long I had been on my own before, denying any desire to have something long-term, she was piercing through to my past self and making me realize how worthless those convictions had been.

I didn’t want to resist, and I certainly didn’t want her to, either, but I couldn’t flip a switch to change that.

Tia was all I could think about, which only made everything else in my life that much harder.

That fierce independence of hers was maddening, but at the same time, her pride and resistance were the perfect challenge. It was sexier than I cared to admit, and not helping my plight in the slightest.

Given how it was an arranged marriage, and how Andrey clearly blindsided her with it all, I expected her to put distance between us. Yet she seemed to throw herself into it much harder than I expected, and she was fighting me at every turn.

It would’ve been in my best interest to not care and continue like the marriage made no difference to me, other than acquiring Andrey’s partnership. It would’ve been easier, too. But I just couldn’t help myself.

That need inside of me was so intense that I couldn’t shake it, regardless of my efforts.

Beneath it all, I wanted her. That was plain enough. But feeling her scorn went against everything I wanted. Her stubbornness was the one thing stopping me from getting to truly have her.

Each time she shut me out with that usual iciness, I just wanted to break through it even more. I wanted to push and push until she finally gave in.

It wasn’t good for me, but Christ alive…I just needed some kind of relief.

Having to see her, to be near her, and not be allowed to touch her was pushing me to my absolute limit.

Even if she didn’t know it, Tia had this unstoppable power over me, and the weight of that reality was pushing me further down with every passing day.

As much as I wanted to pass her off as being some kind of conquest, I knew that wasn’t true. It ran deeper than that, much to my dismay.

That first week was brutally tense, and I was hoping for any sign that she was starting to see me as something other than her enemy, but of course, that hope was in vain.

It left me with only one angle for me to exploit…the one thing I knew about her.

In an attempt to get on her good side, or at least to encourage her to loosen up a bit, I had her art supplies brought to the house.

Since I didn’t have a single artistic bone in my body, there was nothing of mine I could offer her, so everything was arranged accordingly.

It was supposed to be a nice gesture. A way for me to prove that I wasn’t going to snuff out her passions like she assumed I would. That I had every plan to encourage her, rather than force her to be a docile, emotionless doll.

After our first meeting, art was obviously important to her, so it seemed like a good place to start.

To get on her good side, I needed her to feel more at home, and if that didn’t help, then I didn’t know what would.

Tia seemed surprised when some of my men came in through the front door carrying armfuls of paint, canvases—some blank and others containing her work, and whatever else she had lying around.

Upon recognizing her things, she jumped up from the couch and followed the guys upstairs while they put everything in one of the spare rooms. I could only assume she wanted to make sure they didn’t ruin anything.

When I made my way up a few moments later, I found her standing in the middle of the room, watching closely while everything was dropped off.

Then, she turned to face me with a glimmer of shock in her features.

“What is this?” she asked after a moment, looking somewhat hesitant, as if afraid I might tear it all away from her without any explanation.

With my hands in my pockets, I shrugged and took a few steps into the room. “Consider it a peace offering.”

She blinked back at me while processing my words, and then that genuine surprise slipped away, and her walls went back up again.

As much as I didn’t want that to be the case, I anticipated that reaction.

Tia didn’t trust me, and I had the feeling she didn’t trust anyone else, either.

If I was in her position, I’d likely feel the same.

“A peace offering,” she scoffed to herself, and gave me an incredulous look. “Is this just another part of your game? Trying to win me over with my own things?”

A game. She still thought that was all the arrangement was—our tense back and forth.

Of course, she wasn’t going to let me off easy.

Maybe I should’ve been more careful about my choice of words.

“This isn’t a game…I just thought it might help you transition to your life here,” I said, hoping to sound as sincere as I felt. Sure, there was an underlying motive to get her to like me, but my intentions were hardly cruel. “I know it means a lot to you, and I can only assume you’ve been wanting to paint again.”

“I never asked for this,” she muttered, narrowing her eyes slightly. “And I don’t want your…charity.”

Her words stung, and those daggers she was throwing from her eyes felt even worse. But I schooled my expression and returned, “It’s not supposed to be charity. It’s me trying to be half decent.”

“The bar’s a lot lower than I thought.”

As much as she was scalding me with her resistance, a small part of me was amused by her claim—she wasn’t wrong.

“Sure it is, but consider it a stepping-off point,” I murmured, keeping my tone as steady as possible. “You don’t have to thank me, and you don’t need to praise me for trying. You can take it or leave it; it doesn’t matter to me.”

Tia seemed to consider my words for a moment, then she crossed her arms. “Knowing you, you’re just trying to manipulate me. You just want me to accept the situation, but I won’t.”

Damn her…she was making things impossible.

But at the same time, I couldn’t deny how her stubbornness excited me.

I was sure it wouldn’t be the last time she’d accuse me of manipulating her or the situation, but something about it hit me differently then.

I did have my reasons for having her supplies brought over, and in a way, it was selfish. But I wasn’t the villain. I didn’t want her to suffer.

Sure, I enjoyed watching her squirm, but I still wanted her to be comfortable.

For Christ’s sake, I wanted her .

With that thought coursing through my mind, reminded of how badly I needed her, I risked any potential progress by stepping closer.

“I see why you might think that, but maybe, just maybe, I’m trying to give you back something that was yours to begin with. Something that has absolutely nothing to do with me, or us,” I began, looking her over with an undercurrent of longing moving through me. Its presence was heavy and demanding. “Hate me all you like, take your anger out on these canvases, but don’t say I tried to take this from you. And don’t let your disdain for me stop you from pursuing the thing that separates you from so many others.”

Tia’s brows went up almost indiscernibly at my words, looking vaguely surprised once more, like she couldn’t believe that I’d care about her interests, even a little.

She didn’t say anything for a moment, then she regained herself and narrowed her gaze again. But this time, her voice came out a touch softer. “Don’t assume this will make me forget about everything.”

“I’m not asking you to forget,” I said quietly, stepping close enough to feel as those inches of space between us dwindled. “Maybe I’m asking you to see me differently than you have been…”

At that, her lips parted, but nothing passed them other than a shallow breath.

At once, I felt a shift in the air, a subtle crackle that hung over our heads.

Despite myself, I became more aware of every beat of my heart while I looked at her, watching every gentle rise and fall of her chest.

She was right there…close enough for me to touch.

She was almost too close. Certainly too close for me to restrain myself.

Unable to help myself, I drifted even closer, bending down until my face was near hers. Until our breath mingled.

Reaching out, I gently ran the side of my finger along her jaw, feeling the soft skin there.

When she didn’t pull away, I hummed.

“You don’t have to like me…hell, continue hating me if you want,” I said just above a whisper, letting my eyes rake over her gorgeous features. “But you can’t resist me forever…”

Something moved through her eyes then, giving away the faltering of her defenses. It happened so quickly, but it didn’t escape me.

With the faintest catch of her breath, her guard seemed to slip, and when she didn’t pull back, I took that as all the confirmation I needed.

She could pretend like she despised me until she was blue in the face, but I had every reason to believe at least something in her wanted me all the same.

Pressing forward, I let my lips ghost over hers. The barely-there brush of her skin against mine left me needing more. That trickle of sensations wasn’t enough.

“I admire how stubborn you are, Tia…but do you really want to deny yourself this?”

At my whispered words, she shivered, and yet, she maintained that semblance of space between us. “If that’s what it takes to prove I won’t give in to you…”

She was good, but I was prepared to be even better.