Chapter 29 The Spare Key #2
In the amount of time it’d taken her to utter the words, Mikko crossed the foyer, his black jean clad legs eating up the distance. The air was sucked out of her lungs, his presence both frightening and overwhelming. Her finger barely pressed on the trigger, but she was too slow and he was too fast.
“Ow–what the fuck!” Before she could get a shot off, the barrel was securely in his hand, her wrists aching from where he’d squeezed hard enough to force her to release.
“That can be our next lesson, malyshka,” he damn near gloated all while tucking her gun into the waistband of his pants at his back. There was that word again, only this time she knew the meaning: baby.
“I don’t think I want any more lessons from you—”
A gloved hand wrapped itself around the expanse of her neck, squeezing the rest of her sentence out.
His muscular body pressed itself against hers, her sleep clothes making sure she felt everything, and the scent of rain had followed him in.
The fragrance of petrichor clung to his damp clothing, wafting into her nose as she huffed in irritation.
“That’s too bad because I’m about to teach you one right now,” he spoke again, fingers tightened in warning.
Although it was dark, Anika glared up at him as her teeth clenched in silent anger.
She observed the dark shirt covering his skin, hiding the telltale tattoos she knew lingered underneath.
And that wasn’t accounting for the black balaclava pulled over his head, concealing his face from her. But not his identity…
Only a sliver of his countenance was on display. His eyes.
And it was like her nightmares—her body frozen in time, her own gaze locked with his.
A flash of lightning swept across the sky outside, painting her foyer in bright, white light. It disappeared as quickly as it came, but she saw all she needed to.
Sun dappled forest floors.
Frost covered blades of grass.
Will I die with each of his fickle moods painted in the back of my skull in the form of his ever changing eyes?
“And if I refuse,” she finally managed, his hand still allowing room for her to speak.
“Anika,” his voice was deep, conveying authority, “this isn’t negotiable.”
“Why wear the mask?” His free hand came up and rested on the door next to her head, caging her in. “I already know who you are.”
“Is that so?” A smile was evident in his words even though she couldn’t see his mouth. “Is that why you didn’t run? Thought you could talk me out of it?”
“Talk you out of what?”
A clothed thumb ran over her bottom lip. “Getting what I want.”
She gritted her teeth. “I’m not following.”
“Don’t tell me your cleverness is slipping, malyshka.”
“YA nachinayu dumat’, chto tvoy,” she sneered. I’m starting to think yours is. “Pretty bold of you to come back here.”
A soft chuckle filled the space as he bridged the remaining gap between them. If her fluent use of Russian surprised him, he hid it. Her rage burned even hotter. A few stray raindrops dripped off his clothes, splattering onto her exposed skin.
“What can I say, something about this place feels like home.”
“If you don’t get out, you’re going to wish I shot you.” She reached for where he’d tucked her gun away.
The hand by her head snatched her wrist, halting her movements. “Not so fast, Anika. At least ask for my consent first.”
“You’re infuriating.”
Boots met the tips of her socks as he leaned in, unable to be close enough to her.
Underneath the rain’s musk, she smelled his cologne—a wash of bergamot layered in smoke, leaving her feeling lightheaded.
“Watching you press your thighs together at the gun range was infuriating. This tiny sleep set is infuriating.”
Heat rushed over the surface of her skin, every exposed inch suddenly feeling vulnerable to his blatant perusal.
So he’d noticed that. Fuck. “Tiny is…subjective.”
“And so is obsession, yet here we are.”
“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” she said, her body wiggling against his in search for space to slip through and run away. His muffled groan had her pausing, the movements way too close to something else. “But I do think you’re losing it.”
His laugh cemented her words. “Is that what you’re going to tell everyone when the details of Ivan’s death come to light?”
Her throat bobbed, his hands unmoving. “What? Maybe if you weren’t so busy obsessing over me, you could’ve found the actual perpetrator.”
“I tried, Anika, I really did. This all started as a precaution, but now…” Mikko’s voice trailed off, “now, it’s spiraling out of control.”
Another shiver threatened to overtake her as Mikko’s body heat mingled with her own, her skin prickling with goosebumps. She fought against his hold if only to prove her point. “And who’s in control right now?” She pointedly looked at his hands and body compared to hers, but he shook his head.
“No,” he huffed, his fingers trembling against her neck. “Not when you’re in my head”—Mikko rested his forehead against her own—“not when I can’t get you out.”
“Not. My. Problem.” Her voice was stern, but she didn’t dare move, his own body way too close. And the same feeling that had woven itself beneath her skin at the range had returned. Tenfold. The heat of his gaze was unbearable in this small of a space.
“It is your problem because you started this.”
Anika tugged her arm from his grasp. “You’re crazy.”
“Should’ve done better research on me.” Mikko’s hand released her throat, slipping down, down, content to trace the line of her collarbone. “You should’ve known that I can’t just ‘move on.’ I get too…attached.”
“Stop touching me.”
“You didn’t care when we met all those weeks ago.” Her lips pressed into a thin line. She wouldn’t rise to the bait; instead her hand inched back toward the door knob. “You didn’t care when you walked up and touched me.”
“Is that what this is all about?” She tried to lean away from him but there was nowhere to go.
“Depends…why are my men going missing?” His hands wandered back up, trailing up the side of her face, outlining her lips. “And don’t lie. It only started happening after we met. I’m not stupid like Levi.”
A fire erupted in her chest, chasing away the ice gathering there. She stayed quiet, hoping he’d take her silence for an answer all on its own.
“Oh, don’t be shy now, malyshka, I know how much you like to tease.”
“You know nothing,” she spat.
“I know it was your DNA on the piece of gum securing the note to my bike’s windshield.” His hands planted themselves back on the door, bookending her head between them. “I know you singled me out in the club. I know you’ve been taunting me because I’m a Romanov.”
“You’re going to have to try harder than this to get answers from me, Mikko,” Anika countered, fingers closing around the door knob.
“You think I won’t do what it takes to protect what’s mine?”
“Is this what you call protecting? Storming into a random person’s house and demanding answers when you don’t even know the whole story.” Her words were dripping in venom.
A gust of wind rushed through the trees outside while she stood there, trapped, waiting for him to reply.
“If you were anyone else, my methods would be…different.”
“Is it because I’m a woman? Are you scared to hurt me?
Finally find someone you can’t beat answers out of?
” Anika laughed, the sound bright and loud despite the gloomy atmosphere.
“Or is it because you’re a fucking mutt of a man and can’t control the urge to stroke and shove you measly little cock into—”
“Shut up.”
“Looks like your father’s habits really did rub off on you,” Anika sneered.
Something in the air shifted. Mikko’s desperate mood evaporated, replaced with a more palpable anger.
“You don’t know what you’re saying…who you’re talking about.” His voice was strained, the leash on his emotions barely keeping everything in check.
Anika yearned to push him a little more wanting to see what happened when he broke. “Oh, but I do. Alek would be so proud—”
Mikko caught her jaw between his fingers, squeezing painfully tight. The rest of the words died on her tongue, adrenaline freely flowing through her veins. Her stomach tightened in anticipation. Teeth cut into soft tissue, but she refused to yield even when rusted copper coated her tongue.
“Wrong thing to say, little moon,” the words were spoken through his teeth.
“Now, I consider myself a patient man, one who is willing to wait for something they want—investigate those who are behaving suspiciously—but you–you’ve been a persistent, little problem.
” His shaky inhale set her teeth on edge. “But I intend to rectify—”
Anika’s knee wrenched up, connecting with his groin, cutting his speech short.
“Ungh!”
Mikko folded, his hands finally free of her body.
Shoving him back, she used the distraction and distance to yank the door open.
It opened a couple inches, the feeling of victory swelling in her chest. Rain splashed on the concrete sidewalk right outside, beckoning to her slip out.
She needed to feel the fresh air on her skin and in her lungs. She couldn’t think with him that close.
Slam!
The door closed within inches of her nose and foot, her thoughts of escaping him dashed. A prickling heat pressed against her back, shoving her into the now closed door. Her cheek smashed against the wood, blood freely flowing across her taste buds.
“Now why would you try that?” he growled in her ear.
The lump forming in her throat now sunk to the pit of her stomach.
Fuck.