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“Adrian,” I say by way of greeting.
His eyes snag on Cilla, staying as she slips off her boots and leaves them by the door. Her warm feet make ghost footprints on the hardwood leading to the couch.
Adrian doesn’t bother with pleasantries. I’m sure he knows the entire situation already. More than I do, even. “We have a problem.”
I sit on the couch and pat the space beside me until she sits, keeping her distance. Fuck that shit. I pull her into me, needing her scent to chase away my demons because I know I’m not about to like what Adrian is going to say.
“Just spit it out.”
Adrian, face impassive, flicks his gaze to Cilla. “Your father sent a formal request to the council, asking them to intercede on your behalf. He maintains you cannot care for yourself, that you need special care, and that Ivan has kidnapped you for his own…” He grimaces. “…twisted ends.”
I try to breathe through the tidal wave welling inside me, but it’s too much. It’s crushing me from the inside out. “What the fuck is that asshole playing at?”
I shift forward to stand, needing to move, to walk, to fucking break something, but Cilla grabs my arm and tugs me closer. She looks at Adrian again. “What does he want? What were his demands?”
Adrian shifts forward in the chair and braces his elbows on his knees. His knuckles are bruised, and he looks tired. Something I hadn’t noticed, so wrapped up in what was happening in my world.
“He demands the council return you to him immediately, and if you are harmed in any way, the Doubeck family pays restitution for any injury.”
“Restitution,” she repeats slowly like she doesn’t understand the word. “I’m not sure what he really wants or even what game he’s playing. He likes to think he’s five moves ahead, so he does have some kind of plan here.”
Adrian’s lips twist into a hardened smile. “Lucky for him, I’m good at playing games. I’m also good with a gun when I get tired of them.”
Cilla blinks and leans closer to me. “So what do we do?”
Adrian shoves out of the chair and meets my gaze head-on. It takes a minute for things to clink. Fuck. Fucking Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Cilla stares between us, obviously able to read me better than she can read Adrian. Fair. Not many people can read him.
He walks out without another word, and I jerk out of Cilla’s grasp to pace the floor.
She hugs her waist. “What did I miss? What’s going on?”
I can’t think this way. Not when my mind rages, and all I want is the hot wet feel of blood across my knuckles. I kneel on the floor before her, grab her face, and pull her in for a kiss. She doesn’t resist, falling against my chest as I cradle her face and sweep my tongue into her mouth. In seconds, with just this tiny taste of her, I feel calmer. Even as my body wakes, my cock hardens, and I can only think about touching her now.
I’ll take the temptation of her skin over the inferno of my rage any day.
21
CILLA
It would be so easy to lose myself in the heat of his mouth or the feel of his calloused hands on my bare skin. Except I worry that his kissing me is an act of desperation or a distraction, and I’m tired of living in the dark about what I’m doing or being involved in.
I gently pull my face from his, even as blood pumps under my skin, my body wanting more of what he’s offering. “Stop. Wait. What’s happening here? What’s wrong?”
He’s got that manic look in his eyes again. The one who says he’s on the wrong side of control needs to take the edge off. My body tightens, remembering what he feels like when he’s out of control. “It’s nothing you need to worry about right now.”
That’s the absolute worst thing he could have said. “Don’t speak to me like I’m a child, especially when I think whatever is going on has everything to do with me, nor do I appreciate you hiding things from me.”
When he narrows his eyes at my sharp tone, I know I’ve gone one step too far.
He eases his big hand around my neck, holding me in place while he stands. “You want to know what’s going on? Fine.” His voice turns to granite. “Your father has thrown down the gauntlet. Demanding we send you back to him or…”
“Or? Or…” I whisper. “Or what?” Panic builds low in my belly. “I’m not going back to him, Ivan. I’m not.”
He flexes his fingers, applying the tiniest hint of pressure, and it’s enough to send a wave of tingles and heat through me. “Why the fuck do you think I’m so pissed off. He expects me to send you back to him. He wants me to send you back. It’s a punishment for you and for me since he knows I’m trying to keep you safe from him.”
