The first night in my new prison—er, house—was pleasantly uneventful.

I made myself a sandwich for dinner and ate it while snuggled up on the living room couch, where I stared out the windows at the New York skyline. Then I went for a swim in the pool, followed by a dip in the jacuzzi. And let me tell you, that jacuzzi was choice. After I was relaxed to the point of almost falling asleep and drowning myself, I shuffled off to bed and promptly went into a coma. I hadn’t realized how jet-lagged I was.

Not a bad way to spend the evening, I had to admit.

When I woke up the next morning, I was beyond shocked to see it was almost eleven. I rarely ever slept past eight, thanks to my annoying internal alarm clock. Assuming Nico had left for work hours ago, I didn’t bother righting my appearance before going downstairs. I simply dragged myself out of bed and slipped on my favorite thick winter socks that I wore year-round. Not only were my feet perpetually cold, warm temperatures in Russia never lasted very long. Nor in England, for that matter. I was used to dressing for cooler temperatures throughout the entire year.

Glancing out the windows to see another sunny September day, I concluded that fall in Brooklyn might not be too bad. Much warmer than in Moscow. I might actually get to experience autumn, rather than just barreling straight through the season into winter.

I trudged downstairs toward the kitchen, my hankering for a caffeine fix driving me. If Nico didn’t have any tea in his cupboards, I was signing those annulments papers today. That’s all I had to say.

I crossed the threshold to the kitchen, rubbing my groggy eyes, and stopped on a dime.

“Good morning.”

Bloody. Hell.

Nico stood mere feet away, shirtless.

And he was magnificent.

All dusky skin and rippled muscles.

I felt the ridiculous impulse to rub my eyes, like they did in cartoons, to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. Because this exact scenario held eerie similarities to an erotic dream I had the night before—about him.

He grinned knowingly as he tipped his head back to drink from an aluminum water bottle. His defined torso was slick with sweat, his black training shorts riding low on his V-framed hipbones. His abs were rigid and compact, a clearly outlined six-pack proudly displayed. The sparse chest hair between his pecs and below his navel was dark, adding to his brawny appeal. There was a black tattoo on his left pec that looked like some kind of family crest. He also had a line of text tattooed on his right side, stretching from hip to rib, though I couldn’t read what it said.

In short, my husband was a stud.

Even his man bun looked like perfection. The hair at the nape of his neck and around his temples was matted with sweat, yet it only added to the appeal. I was starting to think he only grew his hair out and threw it up like that out of pure laziness.

And my hair looked like a wild animal had made a nest in it.

Just before it ripped its way out and attacked me.

Awesome.

“See anything you want to eat?”

My eyes were wide awake now. They flew up to his like a speeding bullet. “Pardon?”

Clearly stifling his laughter, he nodded down at the stove. “It’s cold now, but it can all be warmed up.”

I took in the skillets and pans littering the stovetop. Were those eggs? And sausage? And…danishes? “You made breakfast?”

Red tinged his cheeks as he glanced away. “Yeah, well, I was hungry. Didn’t eat much for dinner last night. Figured I might as well make extra. If I had known you were that late of a sleeper, I wouldn’t have bothered.”

I attempted to smooth my hair behind my ears, even though I knew it was a lost cause. “I’m usually not. I haven’t dealt with jet lag that bad in a long time.” I waved at him. “You obviously recover much quicker than I do.”

His expression turned pensive as his gaze moved back to me. “I’ve gotten used to it. After this many years, it hardly affects me anymore.”

When his eyes flicked down to my chest, I felt stripped bare. Until that moment, I had forgotten just how revealing my silk jammies were. I wasn’t wearing a bra, which was painfully obvious when my nipples puckered beneath the camisole as he stared intently at them. My matching silk shorts were so tiny that my arse cheeks hung out the bottom.

When I attempted to discreetly pull them down, Nico’s jaw hardened, looking displeased with the action. In fact, his jaw muscle didn’t stop ticking until I removed my hand, leaving the shorts right where they were.

Then I swear, he responded with the smallest, barely discernable nod.

As if saying good girl.

“Are you not going to work today?” I blushed when my voice came out far too husky.

Finally, he removed his gaze from my body, his hand clenching around his water bottle. “I had my morning schedule cleared in case there were any delays with our trip. Thought I’d get a quick workout in before I have to go to my afternoon meetings.”

Oh, don’t picture that.

Do not picture his muscles bulging as he pushed weights over his head. Or his abdominals tightening as he did sit-ups. Or his arse clenching as he went into a squat. Don’t do it or—

Yep, there went my nipples again.

And there went his eyes again, zoning in on them, burning off my clothes with those twin amber fires.

“You have a gym here?” I croaked, unwittingly cluing him in to my arousal.

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “Yeah. It’s downstairs to the right. Feel free to use it whenever.”

“Thanks. I already made use of the pool last night.”

His pupils dilated. “You went swimming after I left?”

He’d told me I could, hadn’t he?

I nodded. “I’d take swimming over a treadmill or weights any day.”

“Good to know,” he murmured, more to himself than to me.

Wait, why is that good?

He shook his head, clearing his throat. “So, uh, breakfast is there if you want it. Be forewarned, it’s all American fare.”

Warmth spread through my chest. He was actually being considerate. Nice. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”

He shrugged. “The eggs were about to expire anyway. Don’t expect breakfast every morning.”

Why did he always have to counter a kind gesture or compliment with a snide comment like that?

I rolled my eyes, that warmth already cooling. “Don’t worry, I won’t. I’m no longer in my spoiled, privileged world, am I? Looks like I might actually have to fend for myself.” I sighed sarcastically. “However will I survive?”

“Good question, legs. Ought to be fun to watch you figure it out.”

He turned to leave the room, then changed directions to grab something from one of the cupboards. He placed the box in front of me, but wouldn’t look me in the eyes. “It’s all I have. I’ll get more when I go to the store.”

I didn’t look inside the box until after he left the room.

It was filled with tea packets.