14. Konstantin
14
KONSTANTIN
Emily is as beautiful as when I last saw her. The shadow of a sunburn tinges her pale nose and shoulders with a light pink hue. She’s let her hair drift loose, and one of the strands sticks to her forehead, begging for me to brush it away.
A thousand emotions roll through me at once. Trying to catch them is as pointless as collecting every drop of rain.
What the hell is she doing here?
I kick the knife away from both of us and glance around the tiny bedroom, searching for signs of danger, or even another person.
Other than the dead man beside us, she’s alone.
And judging by how quickly she grabbed the knife to stab that man, she definitely came alone.
But that doesn’t calm my pulse.
If she’s alone, then that means she came to this apartment by choice.
Which means …
Is she connected to this place? To Alisa’s kidnapping?
She took my suitcase in Italy. She snubbed me that same night. She’d been alone with me with so little effort. I force myself to tear my gaze away from her intoxicating sapphire-blue eyes to the bloody knife on the floor, and an unsettling realization congeals in my stomach.
She could’ve killed me.
And now she’s here? Where Alisa’s trail ends?
I don’t believe in coincidences.
Not after this.
“What are you doing here?” she asks.
Her trembling voice brings my attention back to her and I can’t help take in just how close she is to me. Her familiar scent— honeysuckle and brown sugar—fills my nose and I feel my cock springing to life in her presence.
She slips her foot an inch backward, as if trying to run away from me.
I tighten my grip around her wrist to keep her close.
“I should ask the same of you,” I demand. “Tell me right now. I’m not playing games with you.”
“Games?”
“Whose apartment is this?” I growl.
Emily crinkles her nose and stays silent. Right away, I know she’s not going to tell me anything. A police siren wails in the distance, growing louder with every passing second. Errant Ferrata soldiers aren’t the only problems facing me right now.
Who knows how many cops are working for them?
Who knows if Emily is working for them? I can’t risk staying here to find out. So, say the only thing I can say in the moment.
“You’re coming with me.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” she says curtly.
“You don’t seem to understand, Kitty Cat,” I tell her as I step closer. “You don’t have a choice anymore.”
As my grip tightens on her wrist, she suddenly spins and swings at my face. I snatch her wrist, but I’m too slow—something she’s holding slashes across my cheek. It’s a shallow cut, but it fucking hurts.
Kitty Cat has some claws. I don’t know why, but the idea that she’s even capable of hurting me leaves me feeling excited.
I tuck my gun into my back pocket and wrench at the offending hand that hit me. She yelps, and a key tumbles to the ground.
She had a key to this apartment? Who the fuck is this girl?
“Stop fighting!”
“Let me go!” She screams, and I cup my palm over her mouth to muzzle her.
She bats at me with her free hand uselessly, but I refuse to let go.
Gravity shifts and the two of us fall into the bed.
The weight of my body presses against her small frame. Loose strands of her dark chestnut hair spreads across the green covers, and my cock turns rock hard from the sudden proximity.
Her eyes widen and she stops struggling. But the look in her eyes isn’t fear.
It’s anger.
“If I release your mouth, promise me you won’t scream.”
Her eyes narrow in defiance, and my cock hardens at the sight.
Fine, I think savagely. Have it your way.
I release her mouth and she immediately shrieks at the top of her voice. “HELP!”
Wasting no time, I grab the handkerchief from my pocket, ball it up, and shove it into her mouth to gag her. The irresistible scent of honeysuckle and brown sugar invades my nose again as she struggles.
I can’t waste any more time here. I’m vulnerable if I’m attacked right now.
More importantly, I know there’s no way I’m getting any answers in this apartment.
With a single swift motion, I flip her over. Panic seizes her and she starts flailing even harder. I undo my tie and quickly tie her hands behind her. In the process, my fingers brush against the soft curves of her ass—bouncing as she struggles—and I feel a familiar savage desire rushing through me. It’s the same one that had set my blood aflame after I returned to the house and found her gone.
And now she’s here, gagged and bound.
Her screams are muffled through the gag, and her feet flutter kick uselessly underneath me. She wrenches her head this way and that, but there’s nowhere to go.
“I’m not the one you need to worry about!” I lean down and whisper savagely in her ear.
But is that true?
Who am I trying to convince? Her? Or myself?
There’s no more time to waste.
I flip her back to face me, sling her over my shoulder—the same way a Viking might carry his newly conquered prize—and start making my way out of the apartment.
She kicks hard against my chest and I’m forced to tighten my grip around her soft milky thighs to keep her still. Her scent is overwhelming now, and I feel the tip of my cock growing wet as endless thoughts of what I could do to her right now—each imagined act filthier than the last—rush through my head.
Focus.
I slip on one of the stairs, bumping my shoulder roughly on the wall. The peeling wallpaper shreds from the impact. Another door opens, a new face eyes me. I ignore them as I make my way through the front door and spring towards the car.
I yank the door open, and Sima glances up, doing a double take at the sight of Emily. “What the fuck is?—”
I shove Emily into the back seat and bark at him in Russian. “Go! Now!”
I’ve barely closed my door when Sima slams on the gas, and sends us rocketing down the street.
Once the car is safely in motion and the doors are locked, I reach over to pull the gag out of Emily’s mouth.
As soon as her mouth is free, she scrambles away from me, scrunching into the corner with her head against her window.
“Please,” she pleads, her lips trembling. “Please let me go.”
Her chest rises and falls as she stares at me with a wild expression in her sapphire-blue eyes.
Slowly, I reach over to brush away a strand of her hair. The tip of my finger grazes her skin and she gasps from the contact.
“I can’t let you go, Kitty Cat.” I tell her truthfully as I pull back. “Not after this.”