Chapter Seven
Morning soon arrived. Lena woke first, and for a moment, she didn’t move.
The events of the previous night returned in fractured pieces.
She remembered the sound of gunfire, the blood, rough hands dragging her away.
Most of all she recalled Maksim cutting through men like death itself to get her back.
Her pulse quickened faintly at the memory.
Then she became aware of the warmth beside her.
Maksim lay half on his stomach beside her on top of the blankets, one arm stretched near her waist like even asleep some part of him refused to let her drift too far.
His dark hair was slightly disheveled, his breathing deep and even.
The sight unsettled her more than it should have.
She had never seen him asleep before, not truly. Awake, Maksim was all sharp edges and controlled violence. Even when calm, he carried tension beneath his skin like a loaded weapon waiting for an excuse to fire.
Sleeping stripped some of that away, but not entirely. Even unconscious, he looked dangerous. He rested one hand close to the gun on the bedside table by instinct alone. His brow was faintly furrowed, like his body had forgotten how to fully relax years ago.
But there was exhaustion there too now. Bruises darkened his ribs beneath the edge of the blanket. The fresh bandage at his shoulder stood out starkly against tattooed skin.
There were scars everywhere once she truly looked. Thin white lines, older injuries, evidence of a life built on violence. Somehow, despite all of it, he saved her life last night. Lena stared at him longer than she meant to.
Last night kept replaying in her mind. The moment those men grabbed her. The sheer certainty that she was about to disappear into something terrible, and then Maksim turning toward her instantly.
Her throat tightened unexpectedly. Maksim had looked at those men like they had committed something unforgivable simply by touching her. The memory sent heat curling low through her stomach before she could stop it.
God, that was dangerous. As if sensing her staring, Maksim shifted slightly. He opened his eyes immediately. Maksim looked alert, predatory awareness snapping into place in under a second.
Lena’s breath caught. His gaze landed on her instantly, and for a moment neither of them spoke. Then his eyes moved slowly over her face, as though checking she was still there. That she was still unharmed.
“You’re staring again,” he said, his voice roughened by sleep.
Heat crept into Lena’s cheeks.
“You make it difficult not to.” The words slipped out before she could stop them.
Something dark flickered behind Maksim’s eyes. He pushed himself upright slowly, wincing almost imperceptibly from his injuries. Even hurt, he looked unfairly imposing.
Lena looked away before her thoughts betrayed her further. Maksim noticed anyway. She could feel his amusement.
“I should probably be offended you’re objectifying your captor,” he murmured.
“You kidnapped me. I think I earned a few stares,” Lena pointed out.
That low almost-smile appeared again briefly.
It changed his face too much, and softened it in dangerous ways.
Lena hated how much she liked seeing it. Maksim stood and moved toward the tiny kitchen area, slower than usual because of his injuries. She watched him fill the kettle one-handed before lighting a cigarette by the sink.
Smoke curled lazily through the muted morning light. The apartment was quiet except for the hum of old pipes and distant city noise somewhere outside.
Strangely, the silence between them no longer felt suffocating. That realization frightened Lena almost as much as the attraction growing between them.
She should still hate him. Hell, she ought to still be searching constantly for escape routes and weaknesses, but right now, that was the last thing she wanted to do.
Maksim handed her a mug of coffee without a word. His fingers brushed hers briefly in the exchange. They felt warm, rough, and admittedly a little nice. The touch lingered longer than it should have.
“Your wrist,” he said quietly, noticing the bruising left from the kidnapping.
Before she could react, he reached for her hand gently. Lena’s pulse skipped traitorously as he brushed his thumb against the darkening marks there. His expression hardened immediately at the sight.
“They hurt you.” The words came dangerously flat.
“They tried to kidnap me,” Lena pointed out softly. “I think hurting me was implied.”
Something cold moved behind his eyes again.
“They shouldn’t have touched you,” he said.
Heat bloomed through her chest at the possessiveness in his voice. She absolutely should not like that, and yet she undeniably did.
Maksim released her wrist slowly, though his fingers lingered for one unnecessary second.
“You should eat,” he said.
“You always feed me after traumatic experiences,” she pointed out.
“You complain less while chewing.” She laughed before she could stop herself, and the sound startled both of them, because it sounded absurdly normal.
Maksim stared at her for a second too long after the laugh faded. Something unreadable crossed his face. Lena looked down quickly, suddenly hyperaware of the intimacy building quietly between them.
It wasn’t just attraction anymore. That would have been easier. This was becoming familiarity, dependency. Something warmer and infinitely more dangerous.
The kettle hissed softly behind them. Maksim leaned against the counter, watching her over the rim of his coffee cup.
“You were scared,” he said suddenly.
Lena frowned. “Last night? Obviously.”
“Not then.” His voice lowered slightly. “When they took you.”
The memory of guns, strange men, and the panic choking her alive tightened her chest instantly. Underneath it all, was overwhelming fear. That Maksim wouldn’t get to her in time. Lena swallowed hard.
“I thought...” She stopped.
Maksim waited silently.
“I thought you might let them take me.” The confession came quieter than she intended. Something shifted in his expression immediately.
“No.” That one word felt certain and absolute.
Lena looked at him helplessly. Maksim stepped closer, he wasn’t quite touching her yet, but he stood close enough that she could feel the warmth rolling off him.
“When they put their hands on you,” he said quietly, “I stopped thinking clearly.”
The air changed between them. Lena felt it instantly. That invisible line they had been circling for days finally beginning to snap. Her pulse thundered now.
“You barely know me,” she whispered.
Maksim moved his gaze slowly over her face, lingering on her mouth and throat.
“I know enough.” The way he said it made her stomach twist hard with heat.
Lena should step away. Instead she moved closer without realizing it. Maksim noticed immediately. He raised his hand, brushing his fingers lightly against her jaw. The touch was almost unbearably careful for a man capable of such terrifying violence.
“You should hate me,” he murmured.
“I probably should,” Lena admitted.
“But you don’t.”
Lena’s breathing turned shallow.
“No,” she admitted softly. “I don’t know what I feel anymore.”
That seemed to affect him more than she expected. Something hungry flickered behind his eyes, desire that had been restrained too tightly for too long.
“You’re dangerous,” she whispered.
Maksim brushed her trembling lower lip with his thumb.
“Yes,” he said.
The honesty of it undid her. There were no lies, and no pretending to be better than he was. Lena liked that he was honest. Lena reached up before she could second-guess herself and touched the cut near his brow gently. Maksim went completely still beneath her fingers.
Was this really happening? Lena thought to herself.
Then Maksim tugged her close and kissed her hard, like his restraint had finally broken apart. Lena gasped softly against his mouth as he pulled her against him, one hand sliding into her hair. The kiss tasted like coffee and smoke and danger.
Heat surged through her violently. She kissed him back without hesitation this time. Maksim made a rough sound against her mouth, deep enough to send a shiver down her spine.
His hands moved carefully despite the intensity between them, like some part of him still remembered how easily he could overpower her. That control somehow made everything hotter.
Lena tightened her fingers in his shirt as the kiss deepened. The world outside the apartment seemed impossibly far away now. In here, there was no danger, no escape plans, only her and him.
Maksim pulled back only enough to look at her, breathing hard. He rested his forehead briefly against hers.
“Tell me to stop,” he said quietly.
Lena stared at him, seeing the dark hunger in his eyes, the restraint he was somehow barely able to hold onto. Then she kissed him first this time. That was all it took. Maksim’s control shattered completely after that, and she silently rejoiced in relief.
He lifted her effortlessly, and Lena wrapped herself around him instinctively as he carried her toward the bedroom, kissing her like he had wanted this for far too long.
The bedroom felt smaller once the door closed behind them, and it wasn’t because of the cramped walls or narrow bed, but because Maksim filled the space completely.
Lena could still taste him on her mouth. Her pulse was wild beneath her skin as he set her carefully on the edge of the mattress without breaking the kiss.
The contradiction of him kept undoing her. A man capable of horrifying violence touching her like she was something fragile enough to bruise. Maksim slid his hands slowly along her waist.
He dragged his gaze over her face with an intensity that made heat curl low in her stomach again.
“You’re shaking,” he murmured.
Lena let out a breathless laugh. “After what happened last night, I think shaking is reasonable.”
He lifted the corner of his mouth to what passed for a smile. Then he moved his hand to the hem of her shirt. Maksim paused there, not exactly asking, but giving her time to stop him.