42
CORA
I have no clue what is going on.
Champagne, fleeing, mysterious voices, and now… kissing?
I don’t have even a second to make sense of it all before Ivan whips me into a corner, presses every inch of his muscled body against mine, and kisses the hell out of me.
I hear male voices grow louder and then retreat, but I’m not sure if they’re actually gone or if the thrum of blood through my veins is drowning everything else out.
All night, I’ve felt a buzz under my skin. A sense that I’m too big for my body. Now, with his soft lips on mine and his hands sliding along my waist, I’ve been unleashed. The monster crawling under my skin takes over, fisting the collar of his shirt and hauling myself up because no matter how close I am to him, it isn’t close enough.
He loops a hand around my waist and presses me more firmly into the wall. I can feel every inch of how much he’s enjoying this against my inner thigh.
His tongue flicks across the roof of my mouth and I shudder with animal pleasure. I bite his lower lip and curl my fingers through his hair, holding him against me, trying to stretch this moment on and on and on.
But I can feel him retreating. His hands have gone still over my ribs like he doesn’t dare move another inch higher. He’s drawing back, putting space between our bodies that leaves my flushed skin cold.
One last brush of tongues and lips. Then it’s over.
“Cora,” he murmurs in a husky snarl.
If he’s trying to stop this, then he shouldn’t say my name like that.
Reluctantly, I let him go and slide to the floor on shaky legs. He’s looking down at me with glowing amber eyes. Then he glances up and down the hallway, and it hits me…
This kiss was a cover.
A strategy.
Ivan didn’t want us to be seen, so he kissed me until those men left.
And I turned feral. I practically sprayed him in my attempt to devour him in a dark hallway between public restrooms.
I’m grateful for the dark because it hides the shame that burns across my face as I back away from him, straightening my dress.
He starts to say something. “Cora—”
“Anya would be proud of that performance,” I say, slapping on a cheery smile to keep the tears from welling in my eyes. “I don’t know about you, but I think we made this fraud of a relationship look pretty real there for a second.”
His expression doesn’t change, but the light in his eyes flickers and dims.
“I don’t think chemistry is our issue.” Ivan steps back and shoves his hands in his pockets. “If I could fuck you in front of everyone, there wouldn’t be a soul on Earth who could doubt that this marriage is legitimate. It’s everything else that is the problem.”
Well, then. That's certainly one way to put it.
My lady bits applaud the idea enthusiastically. The rest of me tells them to zip it.
I try to come up with something—anything—to say. But there isn’t time. I’m still in danger, and Ivan still swore to protect me. Which he is doing, even though I was content to risk my life to get in his pants.
He leads me through the exit door and onto the sidewalk. I see someone leaning against a lightpost and I jerk back, only to realize it’s Yasha.
“Evening, lovebirds,” he croons.
“What are you doing here?” I ask him. Then I turn back to Ivan. “I thought we were leaving.”
He reaches around me and opens the back door of a black car. A driver is sitting in the front seat. “You’re leaving. We’re going to look more into the champagne bottle.”
I want to argue with him. But what would I even say?
Our date can’t end like this. You were supposed to drive me home and kiss me on the front porch. I was going to invite you inside.
The fairytale version of this night blooms in my mind and then withers in a single second.
Reality is a lot uglier.
I let him help me into the backseat. But before he closes the door, I reach out and grab his hand. “Be careful, okay?”
He stares at me. I see a flicker of that light come back. A small spark of hope in his eyes that makes me wonder if there isn’t something else going on here.
Then he slams the car door closed and walks away.
Yasha gives me a small wave and follows him.