6 Chapter 6

Tasha didn't know how it was possible, but sometime over the following month, she went from despising the man determined to ruin her entire career, to not quite hating him as much, to liking him a little, to falling head over heels in love with the shadowy, enigmatic man.

It may have had something to do with the endless gifts he sent her, or the shopping trips he insisted on taking her on. The expensive restaurants he took her to, or the romantic rendezvous he planned for her. Perhaps it was the way he treated her as though she was the only woman that existed in his universe, an act that was certainly hard to resist. Although, if Tasha were going to be completely honest, she would have to admit, the moment she fell completely for her mysterious David was the first time he made love to her, about two hours after they spoke their wedding vows.

It wasn't the sex itself, though that part was quite wonderful in her opinion. It was the way, for the first time, David had been, not quite in control of himself. It showed her, that maybe, just maybe, even though he never said the actual words, perhaps he loved her just a little.

He had walked her straight out of the tiny church with just one witness to their vows, past the priest who seemed to know and fear David and hustled her into his car without his usual finesse. He had closed the door just a little too hard and then driven just a little too fast, which had made Tasha nervous. Not that she thought he would crash. She just wasn't used to this new aspect of David. He was always intense but this was something else. So, she tried conversation.

"Umm so your real name is Alexandr D-" His head whipped to the side, his eyes blazing with some kind of wrath. Not for her necessarily, though she certainly wasn't willing to finish her sentence.

"It is not," he snapped, his voice deep and hard in the small space of the car. Tasha shrank a little against the passenger door and tangled her fingers around the white lilies he'd given her to carry in the church. "I use that name for official purposes. You may continue to call me David."

She worried her bottom lip for a moment, too frightened at first to speak. But she had to know before they arrived at his house. Before they lived as man and wife. Though she did not practice her religion often, she was raised a devout girl. "A-are we actually married then?" she whispered, her eyes glued to the flowers that she was slowly shredding. "I mean if you didn't give your real name at the church."

She flinched when he reached for her, but he only took her hand and pulled it away from the flower before she could do more damage. He brought her fingers to his lips and kissed them, his lips lingering against the engagement ring and the delicate gold band that he had placed on her finger twenty minutes earlier. Warmth flooded through her cold digits with that small caress. She hadn't realized she was even cold until that moment. It always surprised her how cool David could act, yet how warm his caresses were. He'd spent the past month gradually getting her more and more used to his touch. Though he didn't subject her to more passionate embraces like the second night of their acquaintance, he did often touch her. He would place a hand on her back or neck when they were out together or take her hand or arm.

"Our wedding was official," he told her quietly, placing her hand on his leg without releasing her. "The name on our certificate is the name on my legal documents. It is not, however, the name I wish for my wife to use. It gives me no pleasure to hear it upon your lips, Natasha."

She turned her head to watch him. She didn't usually get to see him during the day, in the sunlight. He looked handsomer somehow, less frightening, though his scars were more visible in the light. Over the past month, when they had been dating, he picked her up after dark, after rehearsal or after she finished her part in the chorus, which often finished earlier than her parts as principal had. Though she missed the accolades and fierce competition of principal dancing, she had to admit, there was far more fun to be had in the chorus. The girls were easier going and chattier. Less competitive overall.

Her heart began fluttering in terrified anticipation when he turned the car onto the street that belonged to his house. She tore her eyes away from his face and glanced shyly out the window. He released her hand to open his door. She waited for him to come around to her side. He always insisted on letting her out of the car. She had been brave enough once to question him on the out-dated chivalry and he had said it was to keep her safe. He wanted to be able to shield her with his body should anyone attack them. She'd laughed as though it were a joke, but she knew, somehow, he wasn't joking at all. David didn't make jokes.

He ushered her inside, going about his usual security routine, but she could feel the dark edge of impatience shrouding his movements. He didn't pause to give her time to adjust. He didn't take her coat or invite her to look around her new home. She'd only been there the one time when he vowed not to touch her too intimately again until her wedding night. Until now. She nervously took in the suitcase and two boxes he had picked up and dropped off earlier while the dorm matron and a few of the girls were helping her prepare for the wedding.

He took her arm and pulled her down a long, dark hall. She tried to keep up with his longer strides but stumbled and nearly went down on the smooth concrete floor. Her hand flew out toward the bare wall, barely grazing the surface before he caught her. He turned swiftly and grabbed her, swinging her into his body. The flowers slipped from her fingers, scattering across the floor between them. Neither of them looked down.

Tasha was amazed at how quick he had reacted to her near fall. She slid her hand against expensive fabric of his suit jacket and blinked up at him, her lips quivering a little. She tried to force words out, past her frozen tongue, but nothing happened. She wanted to ask for a reprieve, for a moment to catch her breath and step off the crazy ride he'd taken her on, but she knew he wouldn't allow it. His black eyes didn't hold mercy. They never did. Not for her. Not for anyone. So, she relaxed her shoulders and rested her head against his chest, burrowing against the warmth she knew would be there as he swung her up against him and carried her the rest of the way down the hall and into his bedroom. Their bedroom.

Once inside, he closed the door, shutting out the eerie stillness of his cold, empty home and set her on her feet. Her heeled shoes clattered against the concrete. She wondered why he had bare, concrete flooring in his home instead of wood or carpet. Just as she wondered why there were no pictures on the walls or any small touches that declared a human lived there. Her eyes darted to the bed and widened in dismay.

She didn't want to be a stupid, timid little virgin. She'd had dozens of pep talks with herself over the past weeks, especially in the darkness of her bed after David had dropped her off and kissed her goodnight. Though he never let those caresses get out of hand again, they were still heated, heart-stuttering, butterflies-in-tummy inducing kisses. Tasha had lain in the same bed she'd slept in for six years and slipped her hand between her thighs and marvelled at the dripping wetness he had induced. She had enjoyed the feel of her fingers sliding over her own flesh. Had closed her eyes and pictured his larger, harder hand replacing hers, taking charge of her pleasure. She knew, deep down, he could and he would. He said he could make her like it and she believed him.

But now, looking at that large, intimidating bed, with a stark, utilitarian grey blanket and only a few pillows, she was frightened. The other girls had told her that their first time with sex and the few times after were not very good. But it got better, eventually. One of the chorus dancers, Zoya, had a boyfriend, even though she wasn't supposed to. She said her first time wasn't too bad because her boyfriend cared enough to make it special. But her situation was different. She wasn't like the rest of the girls, taken for their bodies by men that didn't care about their pleasure.

Tasha shivered and stepped away from the bed, her back crashing into David's chest. She whirled around to face him, automatically bringing her hands up in defense. She tried to step back again but he grasped her shoulders before she could, holding her still. The stern look he gave her told her without words that she needed to stand still. Slowly he slid his fingers from her shoulders across to her neck and unbuttoned the jacket that covered her wedding dress. His hand slipped to the zipper and gently slid it down the front of her body, very lightly caressing the tip of her breast with his knuckle. When he finished, he pushed the fabric over her shoulders and let it fall to the floor behind her. She felt the swish of satin against her legs as the heavy fabric pooled against her dress at her ankles.

She felt trapped. She couldn't step back, nor could she step forward. She looked helplessly up at the man that was now in her path. He took her hand, holding her in place as he stepped away to look at her. Not as he'd done in the church, where he'd impatiently recited his vows in his quiet, guttural voice, as though willing the ceremony over with so he could steal his bride away. But he really looked at her. In a way that both soothed and terrified her. He very much made her feel like the only woman in the entire world, like she was the only one for him. Forever. It was enough to make any girl's romantic heart beat into overdrive.

But he also looked at her with those black, possessive eyes as though he was pinning her in place and holding her still. For a time. Like one of those snow globes in the gift store with the beautiful ballerina. She would be locked inside the cold glass cage then picked up and shaken. All the snow would go up and around in a blizzard, but she would still be trapped inside in a frozen dance with him watching all the time. Only him, because no one else is ever allowed to watch now that she has become his wife. She would dance and dance until the snow finally finished falling down at her feet and then bang. No more dancing.

She could feel it in her heart. Though she was falling in love with her new husband, something wasn't right. His eyes were hard and his house was empty. Her hope was in the jealous possession she saw in his eyes, in that he chose her over being alone. Her only hope was that she could perhaps make this cold, hard man love her back. Just a little. Before the snow stopped falling.