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A nagging voice echoed in my head, and I sat on the edge of the bed.
I should have been worried about my father finding out about Benjamin Hawk’s sinister plan or better yet, plotting another plan to escape from the ‘eternal bond’ I found myself in. But, no. I’d spent the past few hours thinking about no one else but him. I worried for him, cried when he left, thought about his safety, and even prayed—for the first time—for him to be fine.
Why? Why did my heart ache for him? When did the feelings begin to creep in? Whatever this was, it had to be craziness, right? I mused on the thought but wasn’t sure for how long before I fell asleep facing the ceiling.
The jingling of keys turning in the lock woke me up. My eyes popped open, and a scream nearly bubbled from my throat when cold green eyes replaced the view of the ceiling. Her bushy brows moved to the center of her forehead before she took a step back.
I sat upright and dashed her a glare. “You scared me.”
The caretaker scoffed. “I thought you vere dead.”
Rolling my shoulders, I eyed her surreptitiously as I stood from the bed. “Wouldn’t you have liked that?”
“Maybe,” her green eyes twinkled, surprisingly, with humor. “But the boss vould have my head for it. He is downstairs, in the kitchen.”
Everything in my body came alive when I heard that, and I didn’t wait for her to say anymore. Gently, I made my way down the steps and counted my steps to the kitchen. No need to seem too excited—even if happiness bubbled inside me. I didn’t forget. It was clear that he had minimal trust in me, didn’t listen to me, and had me locked up again. Viktor was a man with a mind of his own. He had scars that had molded him into the man he was, and he’d shown little and no effort in bringing me closer.
The bigger question: why did I want him to bring me closer?
I arrived at the kitchen, stood by the door, and had the breath knocked out of me when siren eyes met mine. Cold and heat journeyed down my spine to my toes and I found myself trapped in a bubble that had only me and him in it.
He sat on the high stool, leaning forward and dropping cubes of ice into a glass I was sure contained Vodka. Cautiously, I shuffled closer to the island, stopping a hairsbreadth away from him to have a closer look. There was blood—lots of blood—on his shirt, a faint dark bruise patch on his cheek, and an ugly cut on his forehead but, thankfully, judging by the surface wound, it wasn’t deep.
He nursed the drink in his glass and opened his mouth. “Greetings of silence seem to be the norm between us,” he said without looking at me.
“It should be the norm,” I murmured. “I’m the captive and you’re the captor. I don’t speak unless I’m spoken to. If I’m not spoken to, silence ensues.”
More heartbeats of silence settled.
He threw his head back, finished the drink with a mouthful, and dropped on the gleaming marble top. Then, he swiveled on the stool, facing me. “Spoken like a true genius. Except,” in the twinkle of an eye, his arms went around my waist and he pulled me closer, “that’s not how I remember it. If I recall correctly, the Irish princess had a smart mouth. She had a way with words, and I found it sexy.”
I refused to be swayed by his charm, the softness in his voice, and the intense look he gave me.
Eyeing the blood on his shirt, I said, “If you look like this, I hate to imagine what the unfortunate victim looks like...” The words dried on my tongue, and he read the accusation in my eyes, but his grip on my waist didn’t loosen.
“Your father does have bruises and one gunshot wound on the arm. But I didn’t put them there. Benjamin did.”
Relief flooded my insides. “That’s good to know.”
“Your father and I... I think we’ve found a way to stay in the peace. There is a possibility of a long-term alliance between us, but I fucking promised to haunt him if he dares plays me dirty. About Benjamin, we finally figured out what you were trying to tell us. He was playing us, and we made sure he got what was coming to him.” He motioned to the stain of red on his shirt. “This is his blood, not mine.”
I pointed at his forehead, unable to keep up with ignoring how the gash on his head disturbed me. “But this is yours. The cut on your forehead. Doesn’t it hurt?”
A small smile appeared on his tired face. “It does. A lot. Like I got stung by a fucking jellyfish.”
Despite myself, I laughed. And he kissed me.
His lips moved slowly against mine and I ran my fingers into his soft hair, leaning deeper into him. His kisses were like food to my hungry soul—food I didn’t know I missed and needed so much. The intensity of the ache in my chest caused me to pull away.
“We need to clean it up.” My voice was quiet but there were elephants in the room that had to be addressed. I just didn’t know the right time to address them.
“First drawer on the left.”
I fished out the first aid box and returned to his side, refusing to look him in the eyes when I started cleaning up the wound. His arms went back to my waist and my toes curled at the impact of the heat on my skin.
“I heard you wanted to talk to me.”
Sasha proves her loyalty. Maybe she told him about me beating the door down too. I didn’t know some women could be such blabbermouths. I had to reconsider that talk about getting her a raise.
