Tempting Offer

Tempting, but that’s not what I want from him. “I need an answer to a question,” I say. “Is that possible?”

My choice seems to catch him off guard. I notice it in the way his eyes widen, just slightly. And he doesn’t seem too pleased. “It depends on the question.”

“In that case, I’ll have to pass, Mr. Di Salis.” He looks at me, then laughs, causing several people to glance our way. “You sure make things difficult, Miss Roberts.” He leans closer and whispers in my ear, “Ask away.”

I can hardly believe he agreed. Adrian doesn’t seem like the type to accept anyone’s terms. He must really want that painting. I meet his dark, calculating gaze while my mind runs through several thoughts.

“Why do you need a temporary wife, Adrian? You’re handsome, rich, and powerful. I’m sure there are plenty of women who’d marry you without a second thought. Why spend millions of dollars when you could have a wife for free?”

“Because I don’t want a permanent one, and the business situation right now requires me to have a wife for the next six months.”

“Why six months?”

“Well, that’s a second question,” he says with a smile. “And you only bargained for one.”

Touché.

He gave an answer, but it revealed nothing useful. I should’ve known better and asked my question differently, but it’s too late to change that now.

“So, what do you want me to paint for you? A landscape? Your dog? A bunch of apples, cheese, and some flowers on a table?” Those are the usual requests I get when it comes to custom paintings and it’s the main reason I dislike doing them.

“No, I had something different in mind.” There’s that sly, half smile again. “I want you to paint a self portrait.”

“A self portrait?” I raise my eyebrow. What is he going to do with my self portrait? Why not something simple, like a landscape?

“Yes. Is that a problem?”

“No. Do you have any special requests? Pose? Background?”

He leans in, his face inches from mine, and gently takes my chin in his hand, tilting my head up slightly.

“Just one,” he says, his gaze never leaving my lips. “I want you to be naked.”

I freeze, shocked by what he just said, and I’m so stunned I can’t respond.

“It looks like we’ve become the main attraction in the room,” he says softly, still focused on my lips. “Are you ready, Nila?”

His closeness is making my mind spin, and his scent is driving me crazy. Trying to stay grounded, I repeat in my head: He’s a criminal. He’s a criminal.

“Ready? For… what?” I mumble, still trying to process everything.

“To show me just how good an actress you really are.” He smiles, then presses his lips to mine.

Everything else fades away. One second, I was thinking clearly, and the next, every thought vanished, replaced with a single, overwhelming desire, more. More of his lips, more of his touch, more of everything.

I hear the sound of a glass shattering. Something wet splashes across my feet. I blink my eyes open and slowly begin to piece together what just happened. Adrian’s face is hovering inches from mine, his hand at the back of my neck. My fingers are tangled in his dark hair, holding onto it tightly.

“That was an excellent performance,” he says in a low voice. “The broken glass was a nice detail.”

I slowly pull my hands from Adrian’s hair and glance down to where my wine glass lies shattered on the floor. Red liquid is spilling across the white marble, and some of it has splashed onto my foot and shoe.

Adrian grabs the wheels of his chair and quickly moves it in front of me. “Switch your legs, Miss Roberts. Put your right leg up.”

I narrow my eyes at him, then uncross my legs and cross them again, this time with my right leg over my left.

He bends down, wraps his hand around my ankle, undoes the clasp on my shoe, and slides it off. He gently wipes the wine from my foot with a napkin he took from the table. Once he’s done, he puts my shoe back on and closes the clasp, holding my ankle as he slowly lowers my leg.

I’m only partly aware of the people around us, who have all gone silent, watching us. I’m still trying to process what just happened. That was the most intense, non-sexual moment I’ve ever experienced.

“I think it’s time we leave,” Adrian says, motioning to Sergio, who’s standing against the wall. “Go to your father, tell him you’re coming with me, and make sure a few people hear it. We’ll be waiting for you in the car.”

Adrian guides his chair toward the exit, with Sergio following a few steps behind. People watch them leave, and then their eyes turn to me. I feel like everyone is staring as I walk over to my father and kiss him on the cheek. “Adrian has asked me to join him for a private drink.”

Whispers erupt around us. My father smiles, but it’s a tight, forced smile. I pat his arm before walking toward the exit. The crowd’s eyes are on me. They probably think I’m a slut, but I don’t care. With my head held high and a fake smile on my face, I walk out of the room.

Outside, a large white car is waiting for me, just as promised. Sergio opens the back door for me when I approach. As I get inside, I can’t help but wonder what in the world I’m doing.

I knew Adrian was rich. He had to be, considering he was the leader of the Bratva. I expected him to live in some big, fancy house, but what I saw wasn’t just a house. It looked more like a fortress, and it came with its own small army.

Tall concrete walls surrounded the huge estate on all sides, with cameras mounted on top every ten feet. The car passed through a large automatic gate, with a guardhouse beside it, and then drove along a wide gravel road toward a massive mansion. The lawn was perfectly manicured, stretching around the house. A few trees were scattered around, likely to avoid blocking the view. Security measure, probably.

There were two men in black gear standing at the front of the house with guns at their sides, and more men were patrolling the grounds. I was sure there were others I couldn’t see.

“Do you have cameras inside, too?” I asked.

“If you want people to trust you and be loyal, you have to trust them back,” Adrian said from beside me. “Putting cameras inside would mean I don’t trust my men to protect me ". 

The car stopped at the front of the house, and Sergio opened the door for me while the driver went to get Adrian’s wheelchair from the trunk. I got out of the car and looked at the building. It was only two stories tall, but it stretched at least sixty yards on each side. It was huge.

Adrian rolled up beside me. “Do you like it?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“I don’t like big things,” I mumbled.

There were three stone steps leading up to the main door, and I wondered how Adrian would get up them. But then I saw a narrow ramp to the side. He easily wheeled himself up. Watching him, I felt a little sad. It must be tough for a man like him to have his life change so completely. I walked up the steps to meet him at the entrance, and a security guard waiting by the door opened the big oak door for us.

Adrian led me across the large foyer to the elevator under the grand double staircase. A man in black gear like the ones outside came in from the hallway on the left. When he saw us, he stopped and nodded at Adrian.

“Pakhan,” he said.

“Is Katya still awake?”

“Yes. I think she’s in the kitchen.”

“Tell her I’m back. Have her ask one of the girls to make a quick dinner, then she can go to bed,” Adrian said, glancing at me. “And tell the staff to stay out of the east wing. I don’t want anyone there unless I call for them.”

“For tonight?”

Adrian smiled a little, but it was a mysterious smile. “No. Tell them it’s until further notice.”