“You’re taking too long, Sidorova,” he warns me from the other side of the shower curtain, as if he’s reading my thoughts.
I glare at the curtain. “It’s difficult to shower with only one hand.”
“Need help?”
Unwanted heat snakes through me at the thought of Andriani’s tattooed hands on me, washing me.
“Not a chance,” I bite out.
“One more minute and I’m turning off the water. I don’t give a shit if you’re covered in suds.”
What a gentleman.
I linger for another few seconds before giving in and turning off the water. Then I peek around the curtain, shielding myself from him.
He’s closer than I anticipated, standing right on the other side of the shower curtain, his eyes searing into me. He’s terrifying and handsome, and my heart pounds hard and fast, lust that I shouldn’t feel burning to life like a tiny spark ready to ignite a wildfire.
“Can I get a towel?” I ask him, ignoring everything else.
“On the counter.” He gestures behind him with his head, eyes still locked on me.
He expects me to get it myself, apparently. I look at the towel, then back at him, wondering if I can wrap enough of the old shower curtain and liner around myself. Like a mildew-stained toga.
Fuck my life.
“I’ve already seen it,” he announces, sounding bored as he uses the barrel of his Glock to nudge the shower curtain back over my head. “Hurry up. You’re wasting my time.”
“You have somewhere better to be?” I retort, annoyed that I’m so potently aware of him while he’s totally unaffected.
Cold as an ice cube.
“Actually, I do.” With one harsh motion, he rips at the curtain.
I’m still holding on for dear life, which results in a few of the cheap plastic shower rings popping open, the curtain and liner giving way.
He hisses with annoyance and tugs on my cuffed wrist. “Out. Now.”
The motion catches me off guard, and I lose my balance. One second, I’m standing in the shower, and the next, I’m catching my foot on the low lip and falling forward. Scorpion catches me with one arm, pulling me into his chest.
I stare up at him, and I swear I see a flash of something in his eyes before he extinguishes it and the mask is back in place. I’m clutching his shoulder with my free hand, soaking his white shirt, my breasts pressed into him, heart beating even faster than before. The cold metal of his gun glances off my bare back as he shifts me away from him.
“Next time, warn me before you yank me out of the shower,” I tell him, feeling irritated and hyperaware of him at the same time.
“There won’t be a next time.” With a fluid motion that tells me exactly how familiar he is with carrying around a piece, he tucks away his Glock and extracts the key.
He jams it into the lock like he can’t wait to be rid of me, and then the cuff clicks open. In a blink, he’s gone, striding out of the bathroom and leaving me standing there, naked and dripping onto the floor. I snatch up the towel and wrap it around me, trying to collect myself and remember that I’m a prisoner, locked up with a lethal Mafia predator.
I have to do whatever’s necessary to make it out of here alive.
Chapter 5
SCORPION
It was a mistake allowing Ekaterina to shower, and for more than one reason.
Now I’ve seen every mouthwatering inch of her ballerina’s body without clothing. But there’s also the fact that afterward, she demanded a change of clothes. I didn’t have one, so she’s now wearing my shit, which is hanging off her slight frame like she’s a kid playing at being a grown-up.
And she fucking smells like me.
