4. Kira #2
But God, had it felt right when he pinned me down on that couch. And I wasn’t the sort of woman who dated men that much older than me, but I had brushed off every red flag and let him take me. I gave myself to him. I was so willing, so eager.
But when he changed, the coldness replaced that heat. Like flipping a switch.
He'd planned all of it. Every word, every touch, every moment designed to get me here. To get me trusting him, wanting him, following him home like a lost dog. And I fell for it because I was so desperate to be seen by someone that I ignored every red flag my gut threw at me.
My eyes burned, but I blinked it away and pulled the covers tighter. Beating myself up wouldn't solve anything, and breaking down in tears feeling sorry for myself would only cloud my judgment.
If I knew anything about this life, it was that being alert and knowing your surroundings could save your life.
My father had taught me that. I wasn't about to let Nikolai Dragonov steal it from me.
I stayed like that for a while. Maybe an hour, maybe longer. The house was quiet except for occasional footsteps.
And I must've dozed off because when the lock clicked again, I jerked upright with my heart racing. The door opened and Nikolai walked in.
He looked like he'd had a long day. It was dusky out the window and his eyes were stormy.
His sleeves were rolled to his elbows and his hair was less put together than it had been last night.
And there was blood on his shirt, a lot of it. He shut the door behind him and leaned against it with his arms folded.
"I see you've made yourself comfortable," he said, glancing at his shirt on me.
"You ruined my dress."
"I think you ruined your dress when you decided to tackle my maid."
"I just wanted to go home." I glowered at him, but the rage I felt was mysteriously absent. I didn't see Nikolai Dragonov.
When I looked at that blood and those tired eyes, I saw Niko, with whom I had this great rapport.
It felt so confusing and twisted my chest up until I didn't know what I was supposed to think or feel.
He pushed off the door and walked farther into the room, stopping near the foot of the bed.
I sat up straighter and pulled my knees to my chest, keeping the covers between us like a barrier, though if he wanted to, he could do just about anything with me.
I'd seen those hard planes of muscle on his chest and felt the strength in his hands.
"Kira, I'm going to explain something to you and I need you to listen.
" His voice was calm, like he was giving a business presentation and not holding me prisoner in his bedroom.
"Your father has been pushing into my territory for six months.
He's killed my men. He's taken my businesses.
I've tried to handle it quietly and he's taken advantage of that. "
"So you kidnapped me?" I asked in as snarky of a tone as I could manage. "That's your solution?"
"You're leverage. That's all this is. I don't want to hurt you and I have no intention of doing so. When your father backs off and we come to an agreement, you go home. It's that simple."
"Simple?" I scoffed and slid off the bed, hugging my arms under my boobs. "You seduced me under false pretenses, slept with me, locked me in a room, and now you're telling me it's simple?"
Something shifted in his expression, but it was gone before I could decide what it meant.
He moved toward the window and looked out for a moment with his back to me.
"Your father started this war. I just want it to be over."
"You're a coward," I said, and his shoulders squared. "A real man would've gone to my father directly. Instead, you went after his daughter because you knew you couldn't win a fair fight."
He turned slowly and the look on his face made me want to crawl backward. I held his stare and kept my chin up. But inside, fear spooled to life.
"Careful," he warned quietly.
"Or what? You'll lock me in another room?
" The anger was back and it was louder than the fear now.
It was louder than the stupid sympathy I'd felt when he walked in and I had pity on him.
"You're pathetic, Nikolai. You couldn’t get a real woman if you tried.
That's why you have to steal them off the street like a thug. "
He came around the bed so fast, it startled me.
I tried to step back, but the wall was right there and he was already on me.
His hand slammed against the wall beside my head, his body close enough that I could feel heat radiating off him.
His other hand found my jaw and held it firmly, tilting my face up toward his.
"I don't have to play nice with you," he said through clenched teeth. His grip wasn't painful, but it was tight enough to make the point. "I've chosen to because I'm not the monster your father is. But don't mistake my courtesy for weakness, Kira."
I gathered everything I had left in me and spat in his face, but the asshole didn't even flinch.
The spit ran down his cheek and into his stubble while he glared at me, but his grip on my jaw did tighten.
It made a shiver run down my spine as I remembered the way he choked me while he fucked me.
"My father will never stop coming," I told him quietly, and I was confident of every word I spoke.
"He doesn't know the meaning of the word quit.
He will find me and he'll bring me home, and when he does, whatever territory you're fighting over won't matter anymore because there won't be anything left of you to fight for it. "
Nikolai wiped his cheek slowly with the back of his hand.
Then he let go of my jaw and stepped back, straightening his lapels like I'd wrinkled them.
When his eyes grazed down over my body, then back up to my face, I shivered.
"It's a shame you're so mouthy," he said in a smoldering tone that made my stomach flip despite everything. "You were actually good in bed. I would've liked to enjoy that a little more."
Heat rushed up my neck and flooded my face before I could stop it. I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out. He saw it. The bastard saw it, and the corner of his mouth twitched just enough to let me know he'd won that round.
Then he turned and walked out and slammed the door, and I heard the lock mechanism click.
I stood there with my back against the wall and my heart trying to punch through my ribs, furious at him and furious at myself for the flush that wouldn't leave my cheeks.
He was my captor—my father's enemy.
And he was the worst thing that had ever happened to me.
And I hated that his words still made my body react like that.