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It’s something I badly need right now.
I find appropriate underwear—a strapless green bra and matching thong—in a built-in drawer in the corner and quickly dress. A pair of nude heels completes the look.
When I step out, Alexei is looking out a window, his hands interlaced behind his back. Hearing my footsteps, he turns and gives me a slow once-over, his eyes dragging a burning path over my body. “Beautiful, as always.”
I’ve heard a version of this compliment a thousand times, yet the huskily uttered words sound different coming from him. Darker. Scarier. There’s a possessiveness in his tone that chills me. He’s not looking at me with appreciation, but with satisfaction, the kind that the owner of an expensive painting might express when viewing it hanging on his wall.
And that’s basically what I am to him. A possession. A trophy he’s finally ready to hang on his wall.
A trophy he’s won by slaughtering dozens this week alone.
“Thank you,” I reply coolly, suppressing a shudder. “Now, where will we eat?”
A mocking smile curves his lips as he holds his hand out in an unmistakable invitation. “Come, I’ll show you.”
It’s a test, a challenge. He’s daring me to resist, to fight him on this small thing so he’ll have an excuse to do his worst. Well, he’s out of luck. I hold my head high as I approach and place my palm in his. My heart jumps into my throat as his strong fingers close around mine, his grip warm and electrifying, but I keep my face carefully blank, not letting him see how his touch affects me as he leads me out of the room.
Outside is a hallway about four feet wide with several more doors on either side of it. Straight ahead is a spiral staircase. As we head toward it, I walk carefully, the swaying of the boat underneath making me feel like I’m wearing high heels for the first time.
That’s probably why there’s such a big selection of flat shoes in my closet. If the seas get any rockier, I’ll need them.
Steadying me by the elbow, Alexei leads me up the stairs. We emerge onto a long, wide deck. The sun blinds me for a moment—I should’ve grabbed a pair of sunglasses from the closet—but he guides me under an overhang that provides shade, and my eyes adjust enough to take in our surroundings.
As I suspected, we’re in the open ocean. Dark blue water surrounds us, stretching as far as the eye can see. Above us, near the bow of the boat, is another deck, a smaller one. We’re on a yacht, it looks like, one that’s big and luxurious but not outrageously so. That’s smart of him. If my brothers think to look for a boat, this one is less likely to blip on their radar than a seven-hundred-million-dollar superyacht.
Deeper under the overhang is a round, tablecloth-covered table with two place settings and two chairs. Alexei leads me to it and pulls out a chair for me—a gentlemanly gesture that belies the truth of our situation. The sardonic tilt of his lips tells me he knows that.
“Thank you,” I say. Because why not? If he wants to play gracious host after violently kidnapping and drugging me, who am I to stop him? Sitting down gracefully, I pick up a neatly folded white cloth napkin from the table and spread it over my lap, as if we were on a date at a nice restaurant. In the meantime, he walks around and takes the other seat.
Footsteps sound to the left of me, and I turn my head to see a man approaching. Tall, lean, and white-haired, he’s dressed in a white-and-blue uniform and boasts the deeply tanned, leathery complexion of someone who spends most of his life outdoors. Reaching the table, the newcomer takes off his cap and executes a bow. “Miss Molotova, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
I hide my surprise at being addressed in American English. I figured Alexei’s goons would be Russian.
“I’m Jack Larson, captain of this vessel,” the man continues. “If there’s anything you need, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
“Thank you, Larson,” Alexei says before I can reply. Though he didn’t study in the States, his English is as unaccented as mine. “Please tell Vika we’re ready for lunch.”
Lunch? I squint at the bright sun. Does that mean it’s around noon? Exactly where are we? How long has it been since he stole me from Nikolai’s compound in Idaho?
Larson bows again. “Yes, sir.” He strides away, leaving me alone with Alexei.
“You never told me where we are,” I say as soon as Larson’s footsteps fade. “What is this body of water?”
Alexei’s grin is sharp and white. “What does it matter? It’s not like you’ll be able to contact anyone to tell them.”
“Exactly. So why not tell me?”
He shrugs infuriatingly. “Why tell you?”
I grit my teeth. “Maybe because it’s common courtesy when you kidnap someone?”
“I didn’t kidnap you.” His eyes harden. “You came with me willingly, remember? Just yesterday, you said, and I quote, ‘I will come with you. I will honor the betrothal contract.’ Unless that promise was also a lie?”
I drag in an unsteady breath, my hands scrunching the tablecloth on either side of my place setting. How dare he try to twist this around, to makemethe villain in our fucked-up story? “I didn’t lie to you. You know I never wanted this.”
He leans in, trapping my hands underneath his. “Liar,” he says softly. His eyes glow a fierce black. “Even now, you’re lying to me—and to yourself. You wanted me before you even turned fourteen, and you sure as fuck wanted me when you were eighteen. And you want me still, no matter how hard you try to run from it. But guess what?” His hands tighten over mine, his voice roughening as his eyes burn into me. “You have nowhere to run now, nowhere to hide. Before this day is over, Alinyonok, youwillface the truth. You will know that you are, and always have been, mine.”
Chapter10
