Chapter 7: Her Terms

The door opened before I could knock.

Matvei stood in the doorway in his shirtsleeves with his collar undone, and he looked at me without surprise.

"I heard you on the stairs," he said.

"I didn't try to be quiet."

"No."

He didn't move out of the way.

"You told me to come to you," I said. "Those were the terms. Nothing happens unless I walk to it."

"And you walked."

"I'm here, aren't I?"

His hand tightened on the doorframe until the wood creaked.

"Sorrel. If you go back down those stairs now, I will never say a word about it."

"Don't give me a speech."

"It isn't a speech. It's the last time I'll ask."

"Then stop asking," I said, "and let me in."

He stepped aside.

The room was plain, with a bed too large for it and a fire burning low.

I crossed to the middle of the floor and turned around.

He closed the door and stood against it with his arms at his sides.

He was waiting. That was what undid me.

Every hand that had touched me in my life had belonged to a buyer, a doctor, or the Madam. Not one of them had ever waited.

I walked back across the floor and put both palms flat on his chest.

His heart hammered under my hands.

"You're shaking," I said.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I want you so badly I can barely stand here."

It came out rough and low, and it went through me from my scalp to my heels.

I took hold of his collar and pulled his mouth down to mine.

He made a sound against my lips that I felt in my teeth, and then his hands were in my hair.

The kiss went deep and hard, and neither of us was in charge of it.

He tasted of smoke and wine.

My back met the door.

His thigh pushed between mine, and I gasped into his mouth and ground against it without shame.

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