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LUKA
What I’ll do to her.
She has no idea what I want to do to her. What I’ve already done a million times in my head. But every single erotic scene can only be part of my highlight reel, never my reality.
What I’ll do to her.
I repeat the words to myself.
I just can’t seem to make myself accept them.
So the longer I stand here staring at her, the more my self-control wavers.
And I can’t risk that loss.
“Answer me, Luka.” Natasha’s stormy eyes capture me. They dare me to spew more lies, and I have an endless supply.
I let go of her arms and back away. “I need to take care of this mess. And I have to let Nikita back inside.”
“You’re a fucking asshole. Why won’t you tell me?”
“I’ll set you up in another room while I take care of that.” I drop the bat and nod toward the bloody mess against my freshly painted wall before walking out of the safe room.
Away from her.
I pull out my phone once I'm in the hallway and stab a few numbers onto the screen.
A familiar voice answers.
“Roro, I’m hosting a dinner party tonight. I need you to come by with some flowers.”
“How many arrangements?”
“Just a couple. For atmosphere.”
“Got it. I’ll put them together and bring them over soon.”
“Thanks.”
I click to end the call, taking a few steps toward the other dead intruder sprawled in my foyer. Blood splatters and dirt streak the white marble floor tiles and the wall behind him. I walk toward the front door, still wide open after the intrusion. With a deep sigh, I slam it closed.
Ilya staggers toward me, holding a plastic bag of ice against his smashed-up face. “I’m sorry, Luka.”
“Yeah, well, you got your ass handed to you for letting it happen.”
“Are you going to tell Dima?” A flicker of fear settles into his alarmed expression.
“Somebody used you to get close to his fiancée. A lot of people would wonder if you let it happen. Seems kind of convenient, don’t you think? You show up here with dresses, and they jump you right outside the door.”
“You didn’t have to let them in.”
Yeah, that was my own fuck-up.
Goddamn irony.
I lost focus because of Natasha, and I invited trouble straight to her bed as a result.
Literally.
