Chapter 24
S amara
I was slipping my feet into the kitten heels as I pulled the dress up over my waist when there was a knock on the connecting door. Without waiting for my response, it swung open.
Holding the dress up over my breasts, I spun around.
Oh. My. God.
I forgot my anger at him arrogantly just barging into my pretty prison cell the moment I saw him.
He was dressed in an expertly tailored tuxedo that highlighted his broad shoulders.
His jet-black hair was slightly damp, which made it curl at the ends more than usual.
His dark grey eyes practically glowed silver in the soft lighting of the bedroom.
He looked like a gorgeously dangerous Bond villain.
Without saying a word, he motioned with his finger for me to turn around.
Like a transfixed doll, I obeyed.
I sucked in a breath when his warm fingers caressed my back. A tremor ran over my body, as he slowly zipped up the back of the dress. Leaning down, he placed a kiss on my bare shoulder, before whispering in my ear, “Ty vyglyadish' prekrasno.”
My cheeks flushed the moment he called me beautiful.
I tried to turn back but his warm hands stopped me. Something cold and heavy touched my collar bone before sliding upward to clamp around my throat. My fingertips skimmed across metal and stone.
Spinning around, I pushed my hair away and reached for the clasp. I didn’t want to even see the necklace. I knew what it stood for, and I wanted no part of it.
Gregor snatched my wrists and shifted them down, imprisoning them in one large hand as he pressed against my lower back.
Placing his finger under my chin, he tilted my head back. “I mean it, and I’m a bastard for not saying it sooner. You are without a doubt the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on, Samara.”
My heart lurched before reality crashed in, shattering the fantasy.
I narrowed my gaze.
Gregor chuckled. “Those eyes of yours give you away every time, malyshka. I can see you don’t trust what I’m saying. I’ll just have to prove it to you.”
“I won’t be around long enough for that. I don’t want jewelry from you. I don’t want anything from you.”
I jerked my arms, but he held fast. It was dangerous being this close to him. Feeling the heat from his body, the brush of hard muscle, the familiar scent of his cologne… It was too easy to focus on the man and not who he really was—an Ivanov, a threat to my freedom.
He inhaled deeply before responding. “Careful, malyshka. I’m not a patient or forgiving man. I’m allowing you liberties to give you time to adjust to your fate, but you’d be foolish to test me too far.”
I swallowed. The heavy press of the necklace felt like a tightening leash around my throat.
He ran the back of his hand down my cheek. I shivered in response. Whether it was from fear or in response to his touch, I couldn’t say. Both reactions seemed always to be intertwined, locked in some twisted, macabre dance.
“Now, be a good girl and thank me properly for your gift.”
What did he mean by properly ?
I clenched my thighs together, hating my body’s reaction to the prospect of him just tossing me on the bed and climbing on top of me.
Hating what a fucking turn on it was to imagine his heavily tattooed and muscled arms holding me down while he forced my legs open.
It was wrong on every conceivable level.
This man was my enemy.
A savage bent on destroying my life.
So why did I crave his touch?
The tension in the room was so thick I could barely breathe. My eyes flickered over to the bed again, which loomed only a few feet away. The corner of his mouth lifted. Damn him. He knew the direction of my thoughts as if I had blurted them out loud.
My tongue flicked out to wet my dry lips. His hard gaze zeroed in on my mouth.
Would he kiss me? I clenched my abdomen muscles, bracing myself. My mind was too chaotic to even discern if I wanted him to or not—knowing where it would lead, if he did.
Paralyzed, I stayed trapped within his embrace, my rapid heartbeat pounding in my ears.
Casting my gaze downward, I choked out, “Thank you for my gift, Gregor.”
“You’re welcome, Samara. Shall we?” He gave me a wink before offering his arm.
After a moment’s hesitation, I slipped my shaking hand around his sleeve to clasp him just below the elbow.
I forced myself to concentrate on breathing and putting one foot in front of the other rather than on the dangerous man at my side.
As we walked down the hallway, I glimpsed us in a gilt-framed mirror.
A string of large emerald cut diamonds set in platinum circled my neck.
Jewelry was one of the few things my mother ever taught me.
There wasn’t a doubt in my mind I was currently wearing over a million dollars in diamonds.
Unfortunately, I knew it wasn’t a gift. It wasn’t even really a necklace… it was a collar.
As we reached the entryway, I expected him to open the front door. Instead, he turned right to lead me into the dining room.
At my confused look, he shrugged then answered, “Safer. Besides, this way I get you all to myself.”
Safer?
He was still worried I’d bolt at any moment.
He should be… because I would.
As he led me around the large, polished mahogany table to my seat, I noticed a small envelope propped up against my empty wine glass.
I barely noticed when he pulled out my chair and then tucked it behind my knees.
The moment I was seated, I snatched the card up.
I recognized Yelena’s handwriting on the front.
Tearing into it, I read then re-read the contents.
Samara,
Time to stop running.
Going to Canada will have to wait.
I’m with Damien right now.
I’ll see you very soon.
Tell Gregor I hope he’s well.
- Yelena
Closing the note, I glanced at Gregor who was watching me closely. He lifted the bottle of red wine at his elbow and poured me a glass.
“I figured you wouldn’t trust a text but you would trust a handwritten note.”
He was right. I wouldn’t have trusted a text.
Folding the note in half, I took a sip of wine to wet my dry mouth. “I’m assuming you’ve already read it.”
He didn’t even look ashamed of the fact. Picking up his glass, he nodded before taking a swallow.
We watched each other closely. Two opponents squaring off.
Still, I couldn’t tell if he realized her note was complete bullshit or not.
Yelena, Nadia, and I had a code. We had used it since we were in grade school to protect the notes we passed in class.
If the first line started with a consonant, then it meant the opposite.
What she was really telling me was that our escape plan was still in play. She was heading to Montreal, and soon.
I should have been elated.
Yelena was safe.
I had a plan of escape.
And yet….
I peeked at Gregor from under my eyelashes.
The man both infuriated and terrified me but there was something else there.
He was just so big and strong and handsome.
When he took me in his arms, the whole world just disappeared.
It was hard not to be drawn into his dark energy, to submit to his will.
It was everything I had been afraid of three years ago before I ran.
This feeling of losing all sense of identity and self when around him.
Now that it was happening, I was too caught up in his seductive web to care.
I was beginning to crave his attention, his touch.
It was like a drug. When he turned that dark gaze on me and pulled me into his arms, I forgot to breathe.
There was no denying the electric charge between the two of us.
It was like nothing I had ever experienced before in my life—this compelling connection to him.
As if despite all the bad blood and anger, he was destined to claim me.
Despite everything, I was destined to be his bride.
I gave myself a mental shake. Stop it. That was just what he wanted me to think and believe. Don’t buy into his charm. He was still the same monster who’d been haunting my dreams and lurking in every shadow these last three years.
You are just a means to an end for him.
Collateral on a loan.
A family name.
Nothing more.
Rose entered and placed two plates in front of us before silently leaving.
The meal looked delicious: Oscar Filet Mignon.
The lump crabmeat on top of the filet was covered in a buttery béarnaise sauce with some poured over the steamed asparagus as well.
Picking up my fork and knife, I cut a small piece off the filet.
I placed it between my lips, but then had to reach for my wine glass to wash it down.
It tasted like sawdust in my mouth. Extreme nerves would do that to a person.
“So, you have a big decision on your hands,” said Gregor, breaking the silence.
I started.
Had the man read my mind?
I wouldn’t put it past him.
It was infuriating how he seemed to know what I was thinking before I knew my own mind. He had proven he definitely knew what my body wanted despite my repeated attempts at denial.
My hands shook so badly I had to bury them in my lap. Refusing to meet his gaze, I licked my lips and concentrated on the plate before me. “What do you mean?”
I crushed my arms against my side to try to stop my body from quaking.
“Georgetown would be a solid choice and is in the top fifty in the nation, but I have to be honest, based on my research and your unique style, I think George Washington’s program would suit you better.”
I blinked. My mind couldn’t quite process what he was saying. “I… I… don’t understand.”
Gregor finished chewing his bite of steak before responding. “Art programs. Once we return to D.C., I assume you will want to enroll for the Spring semester.”
He reached for a dinner roll. I watched him tear the delicate bread in half with his enormous hands. A small puff of steam wafted up as the dining room filled with a comforting warm yeasty scent.
I picked up my knife, closing my fist around the handle.