Beastly Passions (9 page)

He’d come looking for her. Why she wasn’t sure, but he’d obviously gotten tired of waiting as there was no sign of him now. She padded into the restroom and locked the opposite door. With all the extra ones in his residence, Taras shouldn’t be too put out about having this one temporarily occupied. Asha found her favorite products and started the run of her water, waiting patiently as it filled up the oversized claw foot tub. Once done, she sank into it, enjoying the fragrant steam rising and didn’t move for an extended period of time. Only when she felt her skin pruning did she finally lift up and out, careful with her steps across the tiled floors and towards the shower where she washed her hair and properly rinsed her skin.

It was in the midst of drying off that she heard the trudge of steps dragging across the carpeting of her room. She recognized them to be Taras’. Accompanying his choice of cologne was the smell of something else that Asha clocked as a meal. Confused, she grabbed the floor length silk robe hanging on a nearby hook and made quick work of sliding it on before she opened the door.

The room once again remained empty, the terrace however…

“Come,” her husband called, curling a finger in her direction. “Sit.”

There was something about the coolness in his gaze as he reclined back into a woven wicker chair, his right ankle crossed over the opposite knee, the angles in his face stark and unmoving under the low light, that gave Asha pause.

“Asha,” Taras said slowly, his voice no louder than a whisper but lined with titanium. “Come and sit.”

She swallowed and tightened the belt on her robe as she followed the softly spoken command; unable to understand why it had been given to begin with. She rounded the small table barefoot and went do as he said, but before she could he ordered her to stop.

Taras then stood, towering like marble and closed the distance between them. One strong hand clamped onto the back of her intended seat and he pulled it out.

“Now,” he told her in that same quiet tone.

Asha didn’t stop to question the polite gesture, as he’d done this very act many times before. Although, there was something about
this
instance that she knew to be different. She sat down and waited for him to push the chair in, but he didn’t. Behind her, she heard the snap of a napkin as it was whipped out of its carefully folded shape and then it was laid out in her lap. With that done, Taras nudged her chair into place, stepped off to the side and from a nearby serving tray, presented her with a silver dome covered plate, an empty water glass and an empty wine goblet.

She watched this all in silent curiosity while he served her. After he’d poured her water and drink, he uncovered the plate with a flourish and revealed what was beneath. Grilled venison, roasted red potatoes, a peppery flatbread and steamed vegetables stared back at her.

“Acceptable?” he murmured.

A nod was all she gave and he crouched down by her side of the table. The meal smelled more than appetizing but she didn’t make a move to touch it. Taras had no plate, he had no napkin and he had no glasses.

He waved a hand towards the food. “I understand that it may be uncomfortable to eat alone since I was forced to do so myself hours ago when meal was presented to me and you were not here to share it.”

Asha blinked at the sudden change in his demeanor. What she’d mistaken as still and calm before she now knew to be absolute fury. “Taras—”

“I think we need to make things very, very clear between us, wife,” he interrupted, picking up her fork and a knife to slice through a cut of the venison. “Because obviously there have been…miscommunications.”

The meat was raised to her lips and rather than refuse, she took it.

“It is reasonable belief that I have not been as direct as I should have about expectations in this marriage. I intend to fix this.” Potatoes and vegetables came next and again Asha took the bite, incapable of gauging what would happen if she didn’t. “Because I want no confusion. Confusion does nothing but coerce my—what is word?—frustration. And when I am frustrated, I do not always think with responsibility. I do not always choose actions carefully.”

Asha decided to speak then. “If you’re upset that I missed dinner—”

“Fuck dinner,” he cut in candidly. “I do not give two shits about dinner. I care only about my disappearing spouse. The one who stormed away from me like petulant child days ago and decided to then wander about like errant cub on today.”

Her hands fisted in her lap. “I am no child.”

“But you behave like one,” Taras told her. “So now I treat you like one.” He lifted another portion of speared food towards her lips. “Open.”

“Taras—”

He only growled, “Open.”

She took what was given and refrained from slapping the wine from his hand when he offered that next.

“I do not think myself to be unreasonable man, Asha. I like to believe that at times I can be flexible, empathetic even. But what I will
never
be is doormat for you.”

“I never asked you to be a doormat.”

“When you talk to me as though I am lumbering idiot, when you do not have common courtesy to respect me as spouse, you
do
ask this of me.”

“I only wanted a run,” she snapped. “It had nothing to do with you or your infuriating male posturing.”

“Five minutes to tell me this would have hurt you?” he rejoined, his nostrils flaring. “A simple message over intercom to basement would have been so hard?”

“I wasn’t thinking. I needed an escape.”

“And I do not? I am so unfeeling that I can’t understand the need to be alone?”

“You seem to be doing a terrible job of it now!”

Taras’ hand slapped the table and he leaned in. “You. Are. My. Wife. I have every right to know when you choose to leave this property because I am responsible for safety. If something happens to you, it is on
my
head. My conscience.”

Asha’s laugh was acerbic. “Yes, can’t have your prize fleeing to never return, can you?”

His eyes glowed, taking on an edge that made her breath still in her lungs. “You think this to be male posturing and possessive habits alone?”

“I think your ego couldn’t withstand being stood up by someone who should very well fall in line like the rest of your soldiers, so here you are.”

Charcoal lashes lowered. “I do not listen to ego. Ego is for self-important dicks who feel the need to piss circles around everything they touch.” His jaw worked. “No, wife, for me ego has no place. However, impatience does. Intolerance does. And the next time you should so choose to do this again, I will not be accountable for my reaction.”

Asha’s lip curled. “Threatening me to keep me in line?”

Taras’ smile was sharper than his gaze when his lids lifted, his fangs on display. “Take the outrage from voice. I would sooner have hands removed than to use them to harm you. The only thing you should fear from this palm is its promise to flush fleshiest part of your ass red like favored scarves if you
ever
again act as carelessly immature as you did earlier.”

She lifted her chin. “You wouldn’t dare.”

He actually chuckled.
Chuckled!
It was a rolling sound like the disturbance of thunder powering through clouds. Her husband angled towards her until their noses practically touched and responded in a sotto voice, “Because I am aware that you are new here, I will not hold doubts against you.” His grin melted. “Do not make me demonstrate, Asha.” Eyes lowering to her mouth, he mumbled, “Once the line is crossed, there is no going back.”

“Am I to be apprehensive about you now? Cautious about every move for fear of being spanked?”

“No,” Taras retorted simply. “I appreciate stubbornness and iron will. This mulish, unbending attitude is enticing. Do you know why?”

She remained silent.

“Because there is satisfaction in watching it alter under submission.”

Asha’s stare narrowed. “There will be no submission, Taras.”

His brows flicked upwards. “No?”

“No,” she gritted out.

He grunted and suddenly his hand was tangled in her still damp hair, grasping it from the roots as he tugged her head back in a hold that stung deliciously. Instantly Asha’s nipples hardened and her sex moistened.

“I think,” he whispered against her throat, nuzzling it with his nose. “That when the time comes for me to part pretty thighs and feed you cock, I will make you beg first.”

“Delusions of grandeur,” Asha snarled.

His thumb flicked across her nipple through the silk of her robe and her eyes slammed shut in shame.

“Are they?” Taras queried.

She wasn’t given an opportunity to reply as he quickly released her and stood tall again, leaving Asha to gulp in every breath that followed the absence of his hands.

Fixing the cuffs on his dress shirt, he ordered, “Finish meal before it grows cold. Would hate for you to spend the night hungry and unsatisfied.” And then with a rakish and startling smile, he swept out of the room as though he’d never been there.

It was as she sat in a quiet rage, staring down at the food, that Asha realized he had indeed left her both hungry and unsatisfied.
 

Seven

Bangalore, India…

“Intuition 
says that your mate does not find me very…trustworthy.” Grigoriy monitored the noticeable tensing of Nirav’s shoulders and allowed himself to smirk as he sat back in the chair that had been offered to him. He comfortably crossed one leg over the other and announced, “Worry not, friend, I don’t find myself particularly offended by her concerns.”

His in-law released what seemed to be a pent up breath. “Always watchful, that one,” Nirav said with a slight smile. “Which is why I do my best to keep her distracted. Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to do so in ways that she has become accustomed to as of late.”

“And now you seek to change that,” Grigoriy retorted, taking in the opulence surrounding him. Despite the Shankurs’ decline in business relations, they’d somehow managed to retain the lush atmosphere they’d clamored for. Their home was nothing if not lavish and he could appreciate the desire to maintain it. He, himself, had these same desires. To expand his pride, his territories. He wanted more, much more.

The Verochka name had been whispered in fear for centuries since his ancestors had first touched paw to earth and he intended to continue the power in their lineage. However, that required Grigoriy to make certain choices that not all those he’d come into contact with approved of. Sadly for them, their opposition was met with the quick rebuttal of all they loved being set aflame while they watched on in horror, the blaze licking at their skin.

He wasn’t an unreasonable man. Everything he’d done, every choice he’d made, had a deeper purpose; it had a meaning aside from the entertaining fall of his enemies. And now he had an opportunity, one that he wanted to use to its full advantage. And Nirav’s ever shrinking pride played a very miniscule part in the grand scheme. He needed something quite small—access to their trading ports and enough connections that those who had been appointed to uphold tenuous laws could be persuaded to occasionally look away with the right motivation. Thus far, the Asian tiger had proven to be useful. Grigoriy hoped for the other man’s sake that he would continue to do so. He hadn’t come this far to lose control of the reins now.

He was hated by many and feared by twice as much. This was his claim, the thing that would follow him for the rest of his days. He had hoped to leave such a dynasty to his son, however, he found the boy to be a saddening miscalculation. Contrary was Taras’ nature. It has been this way from the time his mother abandoned him on Grigoriy’s doorstep in a basket like some biblical sacrifice. No matter how many times Grigoriy had purposely broken him to rebuild him again he only ever seemed to form wrong. And so, he’d found other ways to manipulate him. It mattered not since he’d gotten what he needed from him and the little bitch he’d committed himself to.

Grigoriy now had a 
true 
network. One that he would use to dominate industries that had been forgotten for far too long.

“And you seek to aid me,” Nirav responded, taking the chair behind his large, antique desk. “Through ways that I must admit I am not entirely comfortable with.”

Grigoriy’s brows rose.

“But I am willing to endure a bit of discomfort if it means obtaining what is needed to make sure my legacy isn’t buried under mounds of debt,” the other man finished.

Smiling, Grigoriy interlocked his fingers. “I ensure you, Shankur, that our venture will be nothing aside from favorable for all involved.”

It was Nirav’s turn to give him a questioning look. “
All 
involved?”

He gestured to the decanter of what he was sure to be brandy. “May I?”

His in-law dipped his head. “Help yourself.”

After pouring himself two fingers, Grigoriy paced across the office, admiring the artistry of its furniture, paintings and the occasional tapestry adorning the walls. “When I came to you with proposition originally, I feared you would disappoint.” He focused on Nirav from across the room. “Particularly because of murmurs that you were not the spine behind your people, but a figurehead in place while pretty girl delivered commands because she is knowledgeable, she is deceptively strong.”