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“You broke my nose, you cunt!” His voice was stuffy and high, laced with pain.
Good. But I couldn’t stop now.
The little one raised a hand to backhand me across the jaw, but I landed a solid kick to his groin, making him double over and collapse in agony.
This could be my one chance to press my advantage. I had to make it count.
I wheeled around to get away, but the big one was already regrouping. Though his nose was broken, his face smeared with his own gushing blood, he still held the knife firm, and was raising it, ready to strike. Perhaps all I’d done was save myself from rape, and he would kill me quickly. Was I satisfied with that? No. But I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of showing it.
“Give me one opening,” I growled at him. “Just one. I’ll make you wish—”
From my right, I heard the whoosh-whoosh of an airborne knife, and almost simultaneously a dagger blade pierced the big one’s jugular. His bulging, surprised eyes locked onto mine, clutching at the blade as he slumped to the ground with a gurgle.
Tracing the dagger’s path backward, I scanned the forest for any sign of movement. The shiny leaves of a few rhododendrons shimmered in the dappled light, then parted. And there he was.
My stepfather’s ward. My brother, by every law that mattered.
Maksim.
As his dark eyes met mine, I became aware of my exposed breasts in a way I hadn’t been before—with his eyes on me, I felt more vulnerable, somehow more naked, than I had felt without knowing he was watching.
It was as if he looked into me, through me, not just at my naked breasts but at my naked, exposed soul. I spun away, desperately wishing my hands were unbound so I could cover myself, mortified that he had seen me half naked. But my embarrassment wasn’t enough to overpower his allure, and I looked back over my shoulder at him, watching his every move.
I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. He was enormous, with huge broad shoulders, and a wide, aggressive stance. On his right hand, he was missing his pinkie finger; I’d always wanted to know why and how he’d lost it, but I’d never had the courage to ask. He had the most commanding, intense, intimidating presence of anybody I had ever met. Like a panther. Dangerous and yet so gorgeous, I couldn’t tear my eyes away.
He circled me, but I moved with him, keeping my back to him all the time. He towered over me, still looking at me in that very same way. Unflinching and intense. It was as if there were no dying thieves littered about the forest floor. It was as if, for that moment, it was just us. Only us.
As I looked at him, I felt a surge of desire run through me. My breathing quickened; my senses sharpened. I knew nothing of wanting, nothing of men and women, but the pulsing flutter of my heartbeat between my legs was undeniable. My knees felt weak, my cheeks felt flushed. I was terrified of him. I always had been. And yet the only thing I wanted now was to be near him. To touch him, to feel him. To let him do whatever he wanted with me.
But it made no sense to me that he was there, that he was my rescuer. He’d made it abundantly clear, since the first time we ever met, that I was less than nothing to him. A nuisance. A bother.
“What in the world are you doing here?” I asked.
He scoffed, working his jaw so that the vein in his temple throbbed. Then he shook his head slowly at me. “Not even a fucking thank you?” he said as he looked down at the smaller of my two attackers, still cringing in agony as he clutched his balls. “Can you believe this shit?”
The man’s eyes went wide, suddenly aware of Maksim’s presence, and he shook his head as my brother grinned, unsheathing his short-sword, his grip slightly awkward due to his missing finger.
“No! Please! I didn’t—”
His words were cut off as Maksim’s sword plunged through his throat with a solid thud, followed by a cacophony of wings as birds took flight from the treetops. It was a swifter death than I guessed awaited the one I’d knifed as I was pulled from my horse. The small man should be grateful for that.
I scowled at Maksim, perturbed by his apparent amusement over this whole situation. Talking to him was like playing a game where I didn’t know the rules. It seemed I could never say the right thing. Never. And every time I opened my mouth, it seemed like I made him hate me more.
“Thank you,” I said softly. “Of course. Thank you for saving me.”
