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Cold harsh light shines from the computer screen illuminating the harsh angles of his features as he waits for her arranged call. Time stretches far apart between them creating the most horrible hours for conversations. Steaming tea sits in his glass cup rimmed with gold while his finger trace over her curved signature.
If Siberia would be forged into a woman she would be an epitome of Claire Underwood. Magnificent but rugged in her beauty with punishingly cold core. Some nights he dreams about her standing besides him waving to the marching crowds. She would suit to the Kremlin perfectly.
First time he visited the White House, he only came to gloat and display his power with nothing real to ask from the President. The most joyous surprise he wasn’t aware of was the treasure that the White House had hidden.
What he didn’t expect to walk in was the seduction that is Claire Underwood. He was briefed about the Underwoods by the KGB but pictures paled in comparison, only showing the half of her enigma. Her statuesque appearance veiled by the silver silk made her look like a marble statue from the Roman empire knocking his breath away. She has always been a big tease ever since the first night they met at the White House.
It was supposed to be a simple game: seduce the President’s wife and rail him up for the upcoming negotiations.
‘’Viktor, are you in love?’’
Toasts were made as it was his turn to rise up and glorify their union. Leaving the Cold War behind them, he toasted for her and the spring of enchantment.
The real enchantment of Claire Underwood he was slowly starting to slip under.
The soft shell of the First Lady could fool everyone. Her carefully crafted mirage of perfect wife worthy of any President. Warmth of her voice that masks the ice in her eyes although the smile that graces her lovely lips never quite reaches her eyes. She was always hiding from the spotlight in the shadow sneaking through people’s defences.
He was feeling bold and audacious, gaining courage from every sip of the wine but it was her presence that made him feel intoxicated. Their flirtatious lines were over the top and tire like they were two common people meeting in a bar instead of the Yellow Oval. Instead of a night that would forever remain in history.
Witty eyes sparkled in the low light, her tongue sharp as she struck back at his mock.
‘’A deception that elevates us is dearer than the host of low truths.’’
It was refreshing to talk to someone who doesn’t cover in front of him. He tested her through the dinner. Bluntly through carefully laid antic he called her a whore. It’s the truth. She must have been aware of how her husband uses her, leaving all the hard work of seduction for her. It was a nice try but he could see through the polished steel surface. Even the Underwoods use the most classic ways of manipulation. Like he could be bent into their will just by her smile.
What hurt her was his comment of her incompetence. He could see where to strike next. There was no need to lie to Claire. Everyone in the room knew she made a much better wife than an ambassador.
Their banter continued and with the increasing flow of vodka the desire inside of him grew. A hunger which gnawed his insides to get to taste those hypnotizing lips of hers. As she mockingly toasted for his ‘’little pickle’’, the challenge was set. He couldn’t help but wonder how talented she would be in the bedroom.
Smooth jazz and blues did nothing to soothe his racing mind. The true smile that lighted up Claire Underwood’s face from the music was celestial.
Unfair.
Maybe it was jealousy. Maybe it was the basic male instinct to dominate, to dismantle your rivals and show everyone who the alpha is.
It was not a planned or shrewd move. He wanted to push them more and to see what happens, how would they handle something so unorthodox.
It’s cultural heritage after all.
His voice rang out inside the residence loud and clear. Other quests joined in the familiar song hands clapping along to the beat. It was too late to stop it. Eyes locked in with Claire’s he prowled closer and pulled her up by dainty hand leading her to the empty floor. Voices around them blurring together as the song got faster and faster. Their gazes stuck to ice blue eyes as the people behind started to blend into a mass of colours.
With the last beat he grabbed her roughly by the jaw and pulled her into a kiss. It was a brief one, only a small taste of venomous Claire Underwood. For a second she was about to fight back. He could feel the muscles tensing on her jaw as she gritted her teeth. Her hands ready to shove him and break away as his powerful arms held her against his lips. Fists clenching as she surrendered into his forced advantages.
Frank cited they couldn’t have ended the night in a higher note, that he agrees on. Arrogant smirk carved on his lips. The party dispatched soon after the kiss and the backdoor deal with Frank was cut short with the plane waiting for him. Frank’s empty promises hastily ignored as the jet’s wheels rose from the ground. What he hasn’t forgotten is the taste of Claire Underwood’s lips.
Sipping on the steaming tea he thinks about her fondly. The blue shift in the lights gets him to raise his gaze back to the screen before him. Wide smile curves on his lips as he greets her icy gaze satisfied: ‘’Good evening Claire.’’