Page 45 of Lethal Obsession

Even back in the dark, terrifying days when they were holding a knife.

I close my eyes as he gently probes my skull now, letting him take the weight of it in his hands.

His thumb rubs across my cheekbone as he settles me back in the seat.

“You’ll have a decent bruise tomorrow.” His voice is slightly rough as his hands fall away from my face.

I open my eyes, narrowing them as I try to bring him into focus. “Pretty sure I’ll still be feeling better than Mickey or Benny will.”

Alexei’s mouth curves at one edge. “True enough.” He reaches for the Scotch in the limo bar and pours himself a drink. “Should I ask someone to get clothes from your apartment?”

I shake my head, then wince at the ensuing stab of pain. “I left a bag in Lourdes’s room in case I wound up crashing there, so I’m good.”

He frowns. “Have you eaten anything tonight? You can’t take painkillers on top of alcohol and an empty stomach.”

“I can never eat before a performance.” I yawn, suddenly bowled over with exhaustion.

“Christ.” Looking annoyed, Alexei pulls out his phone. “Yes,” he says curtly when someone answers on the other end. “We’re staying in the Quintessence Suite, and we’re about ten minutes away. I want a plain omelet ready in the room on arrival.” He goes on to order a selection of food, as well as requesting my bag be collected from Lourdes’s room.

“You sound hungry,” I say as he hangs up.

His mouth twitches at one corner. “The food is for you, Ofelia. Not me.”

“Oh.” His face blurs in my vision. “Not sure,” I say blearily, “that I’ll be awake to eat it.” My eyes start to close.

“Ofelia!” Alexei’s sharp voice jolts me awake. “No sleeping,” he says sternly. “Until I’m sure you don’t have a concussion. And definitely not until you’ve eaten.” He glances out the window as the limo glides to a halt. “We’re here,” he says, sounding relieved. Opening the door, he steps outside. Instead of offering me his hand, he simply leans in and picks me up, wrapping my arms around his neck.

“I can walk,” I say indignantly.

“Not well, going by the way you came down the stairs in that club.” His arms close around me, one large hand cradling my head to shield me from watching eyes as he lifts me. Then I’m tucked against the wall of his chest, my face nestled against the crook of his neck, enveloped by his dusky scent, the dangerous yet achingly familiar blend of smoky Russian leather and samovar tea that is as familiar as a dream.

His hand shields my face as he carries me through the foyer. I keep my head turned into the heat of his skin, my eyes closed as we pass the curious reception staff and enter the elevator.

He talks to the security guys on the way up to the suite, his voice rumbling reassuringly against my cheek, but I’m so aware of his heat and scent all around me that I barely notice. Then the doors open, he deposits me on the couch, and his body is suddenly gone.

“Hey,” I protest weakly, my eyes opening.

“Hey, yourself,” he says dryly, taking a dish from a nearby trolley and removing the silver lid as he places it on the coffee table in front of me. “Eat,” he orders, unfolding the linen-clothed cutlery. “And drink.” He pushes a bottle of water toward me.

“Not hungry.” I can barely keep my eyes open, overwhelmed by the sudden exhaustion that always follows the high of being on stage.

“Tough.” He cuts the omelet, then loads up a forkful and brings it to my mouth. “Open.”

“Oh,” I say, as my lips close around the gooey mass of cheese and egg. “That’s good.”

“Yes. It is.” He sounds amused. “Now do it again.”

“I can feed myself.”

“Maybe.” He is definitely amused. “I just think it’s safer if I do it.”

“Safer.” My voice sounds like it’s coming from a distance. “Nothing about you . . .” I swallow more food. “Is . . .” I swallow again. “Safe.”

“True.” Alexei’s voice rasps through the slowly growing fog. “But you’re safe with me, Ofelia. I swear you are.”

I feel the pressure of the fork against my lips again, but I don’t want to eat anymore. I just want to be close to him.

I curl into him, burying my face against his neck, inhaling him like he’s a drug.