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“What time is it?” I ask.
He checks his watch. “Just after five.”
“Why are you home so early?” Concern tightens my stomach as I recall the incident with my mom. “What happened?”
“Nothing,” he says with a smile, closing the door before crossing the floor. “You don’t have to worry.” Staring down at me, he cups my face. “It seems I’ve been neglecting you if you think something must be wrong for me to be home early.”
I study him with uncertainty. “It’s just not like you.”
His smile turns sweet. “It won’t always be like this. I know I’ve been at the office a lot lately, but the preparations for the gala and the due diligence for the joint venture have been consuming a lot of my time.”
“And finding the man who wants you dead,” I say, my body automatically tensing at the thought.
Regarding me with a soft light in his eyes, he caresses my cheek with his thumb. “That’s why I’m early. We made a breakthrough today.”
My breathing quickens. “You did?”
“You remember the informant you met at the cocktail party in New York?”
“Adrian? The man you said I shouldn’t trust?”
“Yeah, that one. He got me some information that will shed light on what’s going on.”
I swallow. “Should you trust him?”
“No. He’s a man with no loyalty who’s on no one’s side. His only alliance is with money, but the information he delivers is always good. That’s why he’s built himself a solid reputation as an informant.”
“I see,” I say, even though I don’t. I wouldn’t trust someone like that, but I suppose Alex is experienced in unorthodox matters and has better judgment than I do. “When will you know?”
“Tonight, hopefully,” he says with a gleam in his eyes.
The knowledge seems to excite him, but it only stresses me more.
“Hey, relax,” he says, dropping his hand to my shoulder and massaging the tense muscle. “I’ll take care of everything.” Lowering his head, he adds in a soft voice, “I’ll take care of you.”
He sweeps his mouth over mine, barely brushing our lips together. He’s testing the waters, gauging my reaction. We didn’t make love last night, and it wasn’t because he thought I was tired and he was being considerate. It was because of the way he took me in the car—with dominance and possession. It was meant to prove that he owns me. It wasn’t an exchange of mutual desire or an expression of affection. It was a punishment. A lesson. He wanted the message to sink in. He wanted me to remember that leaving isn’t an option. Not today, not ever.
I bend backward, putting distance between us before he can deepen the kiss. I still feel bruised inside about last night, not only because of how he treated me in the car but also because of what transpired at the party. I’m feeling all kinds of confused. I’m a mess, and burying my head in a fog of lust won’t help me find clarity.
Alex locks his fingers around the back of my head, keeping me in place as he homes in on his target and claims my lips, not taking no for an answer. When I push on his shoulders, he grips my wrist and walks me back to the sofa.
Turning my face sideways, I whisper in protest, “Alex.”
“Tell me you want me,” he says, releasing my wrist to splay a large hand over my lower back. He presses our bodies together, letting me feel the hardness between his legs. “Because I sure as hell want you.”
The words shouldn’t ignite a spark in my belly. They shouldn’t heat my body and make me wet, but I can’t help my reaction to him. In a carnal way, the physical affection is a balm for my bruised feelings. I do need some kind of care. Despite my mind telling me this isn’t wise, my heart wants him to hold me. Especially now. Especially after last night.
“Katyusha,” he murmurs, nuzzling my temple. “I’m not going to force this if you don’t want it, but you’re torturing me.”
I let last night happen because some battles aren’t worth fighting. This time, it’s not about choosing my battles wisely but about needing a substitute for love. When he touches me, he not only makes me forget. He makes me believe that what’s between us goes deeper than purely physical need. That’s why I don’t object when he pulls down the zipper of my skirt and pushes it over my hips. When he reaches for the hem of my sweater, I lift my arms obediently. Item by item, he strips me until I stand naked in front of him.
Even though the room isn’t cold, I shiver a little. He must’ve stoked the fire when he covered me with a blanket. The flames are burning high. The warmth leaves a pleasant glow on my skin. He trails a gaze over me, taking me in from top to bottom. The heat in his eyes warms me more than the fire, the desire he shows openly making electric sparks run through me. With a single step, he closes the distance between us, grabbing me so suddenly that a gasp escapes my lips.
