Page 52 of Forced Mafia Bride

Paris?

Now, reeling back to the present, we sat in an uncomfortable, awkward silence, facing each other in one of his private jets.

“You’re staring.”

I blinked, playing with my fingers and bouncing my sneakers on the beige cabin rug. “No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m not.”

He turned off the iPad, slid it to the messenger bag, and folded his arms across his waist, looking up at me. Mirth lingered in his gaze, and he shrugged a shoulder.

“Yes, you are.”

I shifted my foot, crossing one leg over the other, and faced him squarely. The jet jerked under a wave of mild turbulence, and I glanced at the roof, calming my racing heart before responding. That quick scare somehow made me even more nervous.

“How would you know?”

“Easy. I could feel your eyes on me.”

“I was looking out the window.”

“Then, I guess, I’m the window.”

A small smile tugged on my mouth. He was just so full of himself, wasn’t he? “You’re just proud. You think you’re the center of attention.”

Mimicking me, he crossed his legs and knitted his fingers over his knees. The conversation might have been a spacey thread of a continuous back-and-forth baseless argument, but it was the most we’d had since we’d gotten in the jet three hours ago.

“I don’tthink. Iam.I am the center of attention. Literally.”

Literally,he was.

It was just the two of us in the spacy jet. No Anatoly. No Hannah. No Timur. Just us two in the cabin, with privacy offering us many opportunities to do whatever we wanted.Or maybe just talk. Like we were doing now.

“You know, I can assure you that it is not an abomination to find your husband attractive.”

In a heartbeat, I responded, “But I don’t.”

His brow hit his hairline. “You don’t?”

“I don’t find you attractive.”

Nikolai burst out laughing. It was so sudden, so abrupt. No warning signs to brace myself for impact. So, when it came, the thick, hearty sound of his voice left first-degree damage. I felt myself melting under his charm.

When I didn’t react—because I couldn’t—he comported himself, shaking his head. He swiped a thumb over his lips, giving me a look that put me on the defensive.

“That was not what you said last night.”

I almost bit my tongue.

Another quick trip down memory lane?

Yes, I did say that, and in these exact words:

“Why are you so handsome, Niko?”

The rich mountain-brown sea in his eyes sparkled when he crooked his neck to the side. “Surprised?”