Chapter Twenty-Five #2
He made his way through the crowd, and those who didn’t part on their own were tugged out of the way by their friends. Dmitri stepped onto the dais, raised an eyebrow at the couple still in the midst of their frenzy, and moved to stand in front of Keira.
She twisted a length of hair around her finger. “You’re blocking my view.”
“And you have something of mine.”
She finally looked at him and smirked. “Considering you didn’t cancel your cards, I took that as tacit permission. They’re at the bottom of the Charles now.”
He hadn’t canceled his cards because he’d been curious to see what she’d do. She’d maxed out his cash withdrawals, which she shouldn’t have been able to do without him there, and then she’d gone on a shopping spree. “One woman should not need ten thousand dollars’ worth of lingerie.”
“Shows what you know.” There went her foot, bobbing again.
He took in her clothing. “How much of what you’re wearing did I purchase for you?”
Keira gave him a wicked grin that didn’t reach her eyes. “I guess you’ll have to strip me down to find out.”
It was all too easy to picture doing exactly that.
Her black tank top was more holes than fabric, showing long slices of skin and a flash of black lace covering her breasts.
Her pleated skirt was the traditional schoolgirl plaid, but that’s where the similarities ended.
The thing was as much of a tease as her shirt; what little fabric was there was riding up and making no effort to hide the tops of the fishnet thigh highs and garters she wore.
“We covered this during our last encounter.”
“You don’t fuck children. I remember.” She arched an eyebrow. “Tell me, Dmitri, do I look like a child to you?”
What she looked like was a woman in need of a thorough fucking, rough and uncontrolled—the kind of fucking that caused property damage.
He gave himself a shake, forcing his body back under control. “You look like a spoiled brat.”
“That’s rich coming from you.” She laughed and shifted, giving him a glimpse of red lacy panties as she righted herself on the throne and leaned forward, her face at the same height as his cock. Keira eyed him. “Tell me something.”
“I’ll consider it.” He stared at her sinfully curved lips, doing his damnedest to remind himself why he was here to begin with. He turned, finding the man he’d had following Keira in the first place, and nodded.
Mikhail strode up to the dais and grabbed Keira, tossing her over his shoulder and marching for the door.
Dmitri followed, staring down anyone who looked like they might protest. There weren’t many.
An entire crowd full of people and exactly two appeared as if they weren’t okay with witnessing a kidnapping.
These are the people she surrounds herself with. Unforgivable.
His driver had the door open and waiting, and Mikhail deposited her in there and shoved her back when she immediately tried to claw her way to freedom. He glanced askance at Dmitri, but he wasn’t in the mood for an audience. “Go.”
Mikhail shoved Keira back one last time and slammed the door shut.
Dmitri strode around the car and slid into the backseat, listening for the driver to engage the locks once more and for the car to lurch into motion.
Satisfied they wouldn’t be interrupted, he turned to Keira. “Now we can have a conversation.”
She shoved her hair out of her eyes. “I know kidnapping worked out well for James Halloran, but he actually had the decency to fuck my sister before he took her.”
“I—”
“Don’t fuck children. You keep saying it.
” She took a slow breath and he could actually see the walls come back up, the panic disappearing and being replaced by arrogance.
Keira leaned back against the seat and crossed her long legs, making her skirt ride up even farther. “You want to know what I think?”
He found that he did, which didn’t suit his purposes one bit. “No.”
She tossed her hair over one shoulder. “I think you can chant that I’m a child all you want, but we both know that I’m not. For fuck’s sake, I haven’t been a virgin for years.”
The thought of some sweating teenager fumbling at her panties wasn’t one Dmitri relished—and the thought of a grown man taking her in that way before she was eighteen made him downright murderous. He knew himself well enough to recognize that for the warning sign it was. “The fact remains.”
“Does it?” She leaned over, taking his hand and sliding it up her thigh to cup her. He hissed out a breath to find her panties soaked. Keira met his gaze. “Take me home and this is yours.”
She’s bargaining her body for her safety .
He jerked his hand away, though he could still feel her against his fingers, the barest barrier of lace between them. “I am taking you home.”
She frowned. “I never pegged you for a liar. Murderer, yes. Torturer, most definitely, but not a liar.”
“I don’t lie.”
Her gaze cleared and he realized for the first time that she was startlingly close to sober.
“It’s a power play. You’re going to dump me on my family’s doorstep to make a point that you can get to their dearest baby sister whenever you want to.
” She crossed her legs. “Are you going to rough me up a bit first? Or—”
“No.” He shouldn’t have let her take his hand. It was a mistake. Now all he could think about was how close she sat and how few barriers there were between them. He glanced out the window, checking their progress. Not fast enough .
“Some criminal mastermind you are.”
He turned and pinned her with a look. “I would think you’d be relieved that you’ll be left unharmed.
” It was the memory of her on his fingertips that had more words escaping, words he had no intention of giving voice to.
“Or would you rather I rip off that pathetic excuse for panties and take what you’ve been waving in front of me since we met? ”
Her eyes went wide and her breathing picked up. “You’ve said that you wouldn’t.”
“And you’ve pointed out that my primary defense is inaccurate.” He touched her knee, the barest of pressure causing her thighs to spread. She watched him the way a deer watches a hunter, all wide-eyed and frozen with indecision on whether she should run or fight or welcome him.
Dmitri shifted, sliding his hand higher.
“I could stroke you like this and have you coming on my hand before you decided if you wanted it or not.” He cupped her, not bypassing the lace, his entire being focused on her reactions.
Her quick breaths, her gaze focused on his mouth, her hips subtly arching up to meet his touch… All of it indicated desire.
I’d be a right bastard to take what she’s offering .
He didn’t care in the least.
He leaned in, his lips touching the shell of her ear with each word. “Or I could hold perfectly still and let you ride my fingers. Would you like that, Keira? The control you desperately crave would be in your hands and your hands alone.”
Her hand closed around his wrist, holding him in place. “Dmitri, I—”
The sound of his name on her lips broke the spell. “But unfortunately neither is an option.” He sat back, taking his hand and leaving her splayed across the backseat, blinking at him. “I don’t fuck my enemies.”
He said it to remind himself as much as to remind her.
In her presence, Dmitri was having an increasingly difficult time cleaving to his own personal code.
Keira might be more woman than child, and she was an asset of his enemy’s, but the true reason he couldn’t take her up on the offer she kept waving in his face was that she was a broken thing.
Walking wounded. She’d fuck him and then she’d hate herself all the more for doing it, and he refused to be party to her self-destruction.
More the fool he was.