“No.” It was a harsh word.

My throat burned, making my voice bitter. “Why are you telling me this?” Why are you making me feel this way?

“You hate me for that night.”

“I don’t—” I cut myself off. Because there was a part of me that resented him for acting like he’d cared and then disappearing, leaving me tied to another unwanted marriage. It wasn’t rational—none of it had been his fault—but, still, the feeling was there.

We stared at each other as that awareness settled between us.

“I still don’t understand why you’re telling me this,” I told him. “It’s not like it matters anymore.” Right?

He shook his head, letting out a disdainful noise through his teeth.

My heart beat hard against my ribcage.

His eyes lifted to mine, and they were filled with fire: violence, confliction, and a flash of possession. “Ask me why I kiss you.”

I couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe.

I shook my head.

Because I was suddenly terrified of the answer.

With his handsome, aristocratic face, he looked like a pissed-off prince who was darkly amused to be denied what he wanted. “I thought you were braver than this, Gianna.”

I wasn’t. I’m not.

“Remember that the next time you offer me your body, malyshka,” he bit out. “Because next time, I’ll take it. Regardless if there are still tears on your face. Fuck, I won’t care if you cry the whole way through it.”

I swallowed.

He’d once insinuated I was breakable, like a flimsy piece of glass. And that truth was suddenly loud in my ears. I needed to keep my distance from this man; nothing good could come from this chemistry between us. It was explosive and addictive but forged in hate and mistrust. He had always won, and I knew, if I explored this attraction further, he would be the victor in the end.

My silence was my forfeit.

He shook his head. “Get in the car, Gianna.”

He took me home, and we didn’t say another word to each other on the way.

“I think it’s too small,” I groaned.

“What do you expect, eating all that junk lately?” Magdalena chastised, yanking on the laces of my dress. “There are chocolate stains on all of your clothes.”

“I can’t help it if I eat my feelings.”

“If you aren’t careful, querida, you’ll look like a busted can of biscuits by Christmas.”

“Everyone should put on a little weight for the winter,” I countered, turning to look at myself in the mirror. My dress was a slim-fitting sheath style, with a lace bustier and a corset that tied up at the back. It was beautiful, but maybe not that practical.

I placed a hand on my stomach. “I can’t really breathe that well.”

“Don’t be dramatic. Now, let me put the finishing touches on your hair. Then, you need to leave. Roberto is coming over.”

I was going to complain about this being my apartment but couldn’t get all the air in to do so. Consequently, when I could speak, what came out was, “Hide the chocolate, Magdalena.”

It was Ace’s club’s fiftieth anniversary, and the place was easily overcapacity. But that was probably the lesser of the illegal activities taking place tonight.

“Really, Val?” I sighed. “My husband’s funeral was two days ago.”

“Oh, come on. You have to jump back into the saddle sometime! Let’s be honest, how long has it been since you’ve been laid?”

I ignored that question and eyed the blind date she’d brought along. Handsome, dark hair, lean build, a couple of inches taller than me in heels. He was exactly my type—or, at least, what I would have preferred not long ago. Though, now, I couldn’t help but feel like everything was wrong with him.

Frustration ran through me. I’d been abstinent for so long it felt like I was a virgin again. And now that I was finally free to do as I wished, I couldn’t find any interest in men. Well, besides one. Christian had reintroduced me to sex, and it only made sense I was feeling a little attached to him because of it.

“At least give him a try, Gianna. He’s been anxious to meet you.”

The truth was, I needed touch and sex and affection. I lived for it. And I didn’t believe I could stand to be without it anymore. Maybe if I forced some interest in this blind date of mine, it would eventually become genuine.

“Fine. Do introduce us, Val.”

“See, I knew this was exactly what you needed.” She grabbed my arm, and we walked toward a table where her husband Ricardo and my date were talking. “By the way, loving the dress. Very classy steampunk. Can you breathe?”

“Not at all.”

She chuckled as we reached the table.

“Van, this is Gianna. Gianna, this is Van.” She shoved me toward him like I was a nervous teenager meeting a boy at a dance. I rolled my eyes but stepped forward and offered my hand.

“It’s nice to meet you.”

He smiled. “I assure you, the pleasure is all mine.”

His smile was beautiful, and his voice was rich and deep. The kind of voice that made you feel like he’d seen you naked just from the way the syllables poured off his lips.

I must have been off the saddle way too long.

Because I actually blushed.

While he kissed the top of my hand, I passed Val a wide-eyed glance.

She winked.

A hot sensation trailed down my spine; I turned my head toward the door. My gaze collided with Christian’s and stuck there. My heart slowed, each beat incinerating as fire licked beneath my skin.

He’d always been out-of-this-world handsome, and I’d never reacted to him like most of the other women in the room. But now I knew the way his hands felt on me, the intoxicating way he kissed, the sound of his groan when he came. And I wanted all of it again, even though I knew it would be terrible for my mental—and possibly, physical—health.

He took in the blush still evident on my cheeks. Then, his eyes flicked to the side, to my date, and narrowed.

That was when I noticed the woman beside him. Aleksandra Popova was even more beautiful in person, in a classy red evening dress and gold heels. She would be the perfect pin-up model. I’d even bet, behind closed doors, she’d embody the fifties housewife by serving her husband a glass of cognac on a silver platter, all while cooking a turkey and wearing an apron.

Her hand was on his arm.

I looked away, fighting off a sudden bout of heartburn. I frowned. I hadn’t even eaten much today while trying to fit into this dress. It seemed my health was always in question whenever Christian was present. That should be enough warning to stay away.

“Sorry to break it to you like this, Val, but it looks like your pockets are going to be much lighter soon.”

She glanced toward the door, and when she turned back around, it was with a smirk on her lips. “I’m not worried.”

Ricardo arched a brow, probably wondering how much of his money his wife had bet.

“I am warning you, though,” Val said, eyeing Aleksandra with worship sparkling in her eyes, “I’m about to fangirl really hard.”

I wasn’t sure which game this was, but I didn’t want any part of it.