Quietly, Vadim and I escape her room, shutting off the light and closing the door behind us. Once we reach the bedroom, however, Mommy and Daddy lose the “E for everyone” rating.

My thoughts instantly shift to Irina, and a question about her is already on the tip of my tongue when I sense Vadim come up behind me.

“Merde.” He grabs me, wrenching up my sodden dress and cups me directly between my legs. The desperation with which he does so tempers the answering lust sparking to life inside my belly. He’s more possessive than sensual, yanking me around so swiftly I have to clutch his shoulders just to stay upright. His mouth finds my throat, lips parting, teeth latching with a searing nip that makes me gasp.

Lust ignites my blood like liquid fire—so potent that I almost forget the world-shattering event at the forefront. Almost.

“Irina,” I rasp as he strokes me, applying devious pressure to my clit, enhancing the placement of my piercing. Holy crap. I nearly lose my train of thought, and then I realize as his eyes hungrily watch me bite down a moan—that’s what he wants.

To distract me.

“Tell me what happened.” With difficultly, I break away from him, backing up to put distance between us. My body hums, craving him, but I force myself to deny the desire and meet his gaze with what I hope passes for a stern expression. “Tell me. What did she want? Is she still holding up the adoption?”

He turns away, putting his back to me. A heavy sigh betrays the exhaustion he hid so well in front of Magda—and the alarming instability that has become his hallmark. How he rakes his hands through his hair. Trembles with emotion. Gets that hard, low note in his voice I’ve come to associate with some impulsive gesture—like tying me up. Twice.

“I will tell you everything,” he swears, his shoulders hunched, body radiating tension. “If, you tell me something first…”