Page 82 of Weeping Roses
“It’s bad, isn’t it?” Her eyes are wide and full of concern, and I nod gravely. “As bad as it gets, malyshka. I believe we have found what we are looking for, and now the most important thing is to head home.”
“To London?”
She sounds concerned and I shake my head.
“To Russia. It’s time you met the rest of my family. We are returning home.”
It doesn’t take long. When I set my mind to do something, it happens at a fast pace and within the hour, we are heading to the international airport and Polly is hyperventilating beside me.
“I can’t go to Russia. I don’t have my passport.”
“I have your passport.” I reassure her and she gasps, “How?”
“As soon as we met, I sent the guards to your home to remove any personal documents. They are now with mine.”
“I’m sorry. Did you just say you instructed your men to break into my flat in West Sussex and rifle through my belongings?”
The expression of horror on her face makes me smile. “Of course. What’s wrong with that?”
“How dare you? I–” She struggles to speak. “That is my personal space. You could have fucking asked me.”
“Please refrain from cursing, malyshka. I expect my wife to behave at all times.” I can’t resist adding to her anger and she gasps, “Behave! Are you freaking kidding me?”
“What’s the matter? Don’t you like it when I put you in your place?” I tease, loving how every word I speak is taken literally and is bringing her blood to boiling point.
“Why did I marry you?” She shouts and I can’t resist and pull her angry lips to mine and kiss her as if she is the only thing that can keep me alive. Right now she is because what I have learned and the problems my family now face are insurmountable and she is a welcome distraction.
Despite her anger, she kisses me back with the same hunger, and as I press her down against the leather seat, I hitch up her skirt and push aside her panties.
She is so wet and I dip two fingers inside her and she moans against my mouth as I pump them in and out, loving how she pushes down onto them.
We turn off the motorway and I pull away, loving her flushed expression and dilated pupils. She is beautiful most of the time but as she responds to my touch, it transforms her into a goddess. My goddess and I stare at her in admiration and whisper huskily, “We will continue this discussion on the plane.”
“We will not.” She sits up rearranging her clothing with a guilty expression on her face and says heatedly, “Just because you’re good at—well, sex, it doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven you for burgling my home.”
“Good at sex.” I laugh out loud. “I’ll enjoy showing you just how good at it I am on the journey home.”
“But my things. I haven’t even packed.” Her face is a picture of concern, and I shrug.
“You don’t need anything. I can provide it all, so calm down and enjoy the experience.”
“Calm down!” She makes to deliver another verbal tirade but stops as the window lowers and a security official peers inside. “Passports please, sir.”
Polly stares in amazement as I reach inside the briefcase on the floor and pull out both of our passports. As the official checks them, Polly appears to be in shock and then he nods and hands them back to me.
“Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Romanov. Enjoy your flight.”
He steps back and as the window closes, Polly grasps the passport from my hand. “Give me that.”
She glances through it and says incredulously, “How? I mean, when did you change my passport into my married name?”
“The day we married, of course.”
“But how? I mean, I didn’t authorize this.”
She holds it in her hands and stares at me in confusion and I shrug, gathering my things as I say, “I am your husband. I don’t need your authorization.”
Before she can reply, we stop outside the aircraft and as the door opens, she gasps, “What’s this?”