I don’t comment on it.
I could try and ease her fear. I don’t because I know she won’t appreciate it. She has to do this on her own.
When we pull up to the house, Nelson is there to help her out. I notice her holding onto him.
I don’t like seeing her lean on another man. I like even less that my reaction is immediate.
If he forgets his place, I’ll remind him.
“I’ve got her,” I snap.
“We’ll be here,” Kirill says.
I lead Sofia inside. She’s nervous.
I head straight for the bar. “Drink?”
“Yes.” Her voice is barely above a whisper.
I pour us each a scotch. I don’t want her drunk, but she needs to take the edge off.
I watch her drain the glass before she sets it down with shaking hands.
“Sofia.”
She looks up at me. I see the fear she’s trying so hard to hide.
“I think we need to establish some boundaries,” she says. “We’re married. That’s what I agreed to. That’s it. Nothing else.”
I could force the issue.
But I won’t.
She needs this control.
“I don’t expect anything from you tonight,” I say. “Or any night. This marriage is about protection. Nothing more. Unless you want more.”
“I don’t,” she says quickly.
“Then we’re clear.”
I finish my drink and set the glass down. “You’ll need to sleep in my bed. At least for the first week or two. My staff is loyal, but we can’t afford rumors.”
“Your bed?” she whispers.
“It’s a large bed.”
I’m a dick. She could sleep in the guest room. But I want her in my bed. That’s something I decided about five minutes ago. And thereisa real risk of rumors.
“I’ll give you the full tour tomorrow,” I say.
She hesitates. I see the fear, but she’s pushing through it.
I lead her upstairs and into my primary suite that dominates the second floor.
Her eyes take in my bedroom. The large bed. Fireplace. Seating area. Bathroom door. Window. Distance between the bed and the door. She’s calculating her escape routes.
Good girl.I’d be more worried if she weren’t.