Possession Ch. 04

Beth felt her cheeks begin to redden and bit her tongue in an effort to keep the blush down. If she were going to survive the next two months with any shred of pride or dignity intact, she would have to stop being so ashamed of herself, so prone to embarrassment.

"You're learning," Masha commented, observing Beth closely.

"So all of these clothes are in my size?" Beth thought a change of subject was safer, unsure of whether or not she could take Masha as a confidante.

"Approximately. Most of this we'll send back." Masha reached out and lifted a strand of Beth's hair. "Ivan forgot to tell me you had such a vivid complexion. Some of these tones will be thoroughly unacceptable. They just will not suit."

With renewed fervour, Masha set to work attacking the piles of clothes, sifting through as she put together Beth's new wardrobe.

"Here," she thrust an armful of black dresses in Beth's general direction. "Try these on."

"All of them?"

"Yes, all of them." Masha confirmed with a roll of her eyes. "What do you think I meant?"

"But there are so many!" Beth exclaimed. "Do I really have to do this? Is this necessary? Can't I just get my clothes from home?"

Masha snorted. "Ivan took me to that place - your 'home'. Your stepfather let us in. He was surprisingly eager to sell us your old clothes but when we looked at them, we concluded they are not suitable."

As if she had just been stung, Beth recoiled. "What's wrong with them? Dmitri liked me well enough in them before."

"He saw you once," Masha rolled her eyes again in what Beth would soon learn was one of her signature expressions. "When it comes to a pretty woman, Dmitri wouldn't care if they were wearing a boiler suit, so long as he could take it off her and check all of her parts are accounted for and in the right place. So don't think about him - he's just a man. You need to start dressing for yourself and those bitches who crowd around him. If you're going to be in this world for any time at all, you need to look like you belong. When you're Dmitri's woman, any female you meet could be and probably is plotting to bring you down."

Beth snorted. "Because he's that much of a catch?"

"He's good-looking, he's intelligent and he's not a brute," Masha ticked off Dmitri's allegedly 'good qualities' on her fingers.

"Of course, threatening my family so that I'll be his plaything means he's not a brute."

"He could have made you watch them being tortured until you agreed - be grateful it was just a few threats. And he's rich. So if the man doesn't mind buying you a new wardrobe, spend all the fucking money you can on whatever you want. He can afford it, believe me, and you will feel much more comfortable when you're at his side. Now start trying on those dresses and show me when you find one that fits."

"But I don't own any underwear," she argued weakly.

Masha handed her a shopping bag. "There are a few sizes in there. I think Ivan was a little too scared of me to properly estimate what bra you needed - or to admit if he already had."

"Thanks," Beth slipped back into the bathroom.

When she emerged, she was once again wearing a black dress, but what a far cry it had been to the cheap second-hand shift she had the day before. She had never felt so sophisticated in her life. It was exquisitely cut, as if it had been made for her. It would have been modest enough for a nun, had the back not been cut out and replaced by a transparent panel of sheer material.

Masha nodded when she saw Beth. "Nice. Turn."

Beth did so.

"Wait. Stop!" Masha was frowning. "There are marks."

"Where?" Beth worried she had ruined it already.

"All over. This will not do. I brought this from Harrods - it should not be marked!"

Masha reached out and gently pressed against the see-through material over Beth's back. Beth flinched and jerked away.

"The dress isn't dirty." Masha said, half to herself, and grasped Beth's wrist firmly. "Come with me."

Before she could utter a word, Beth found herself dragged along the corridor and downstairs, back into the library where Dmitri had greeted her the previous night.

"Dmitri Voronov!" Masha raged. "You son of a bitch - this time you've gone too far!"

Dmitri was sitting in the same armchair he had occupied last time Beth had seen him. He looked up, startled when they disturbed him.

"Masha," he addressed her calmly. "What are you doing here?"

"My husband said that you needed my help with the new woman in your life. I thought she just needed clothes, not someone to accompany her to a battered woman's shelter!"

Masha," Dmitri seemed to unfold as he stood, squaring his shoulders off against the fuming woman. "What are you suggesting?"

"This!" Masha manhandled Beth so that her back was towards Dmitri and tugged down the dress.

The fresh bruises had only the evening before been barely visible. Now they stood in stark contrast to Beth's creamy skin. The pale expanse of flesh was mottled black and blue.

Dmitri approached. Beth tried to twist away but Masha held her firmly in place. For such a petite woman, she certainly had a grip of iron.

Beth sensed him reaching out for her, knowing he was about to make contact. Instinctively she braced herself - she hadn't noticed how tender she was until Masha had accidentally hurt her. But it was unnecessary - she heard a stinging crack as the other woman slapped Dmitri's hand away.

"That was not me," Dmitri asserted firmly.

His voice had darkened. Beth almost imagined he was angry.

"Then who was it?" Masha demanded. "If you didn't hit her, who did?"

"Perhaps we should ask her?"

The pair of them turned to Beth. She had no desire to reveal the intimate details of her private life.

"I fell," she mumbled.

"See," Dmitri glared at Masha. "She fell."

"Bullshit, Dmitri. I've seen enough women who've been victims of domestic violence to know the difference between a fall and being hit!"

"I wasn't hit," Beth said.

Strictly speaking it was true. The bruises on her back weren't from being struck. Luckily her cheek hadn't marked.

Masha looked sceptical. Clearly she didn't believe Beth.

"I'm warning you Dmitri," she pointed at him viciously. "If you harm her in any way, I will tell Ivan that unless he stops dealing with your crap, I'm walking out."

"Stop being so melodramatic, Masha," Dmitri drawled. "Go and play with your pretty clothes."

Masha huffed but began to usher Beth upstairs.

"And Masha?" Dmitri added. "Find her something sexy to wear for tonight. Anything that hides those bruises. I may decide to take her to bed after dinner - I do not want to be distracted."

Beth froze. Heat suffused her body. This time nothing she could do could suppress her blush. But if Masha noticed her discomfort, she tactfully pretended to be oblivious.

Only when the two women were out of earshot did Dmitri's tight control on his temper slip. He slammed his fist against the side of a bookcase with enough force that it rattled and four of the tomes fell to the floor.

Bending down, he carefully straightened the pages and replaced the books. Then he set about doing what he did best - finding someone to do his dirty work for him.