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I clench my jaw and glare in defiance…until I realize that somehow, I’m standing at the entrance to the room. When did my legs move? What the hell is wrong with my body? It’s like he’s exerting some invisible pull.
Is the man kinetic, goddammit?
Maybe it’s just my self-preservation kicking in. Because there’s no doubt in my mind that now isn’t the time to pull Lev’s strings.
With jelly legs, I take tentative steps into the living room, stopping on the other side of the coffee table. I’m not sure how safe I feel. At least if I keep some distance between us, I can bolt. Another long silence stretches between us as he runs his eyes over me coolly, surveying me from head to toe.
Frayed nerves begin to combine with my fury now. I don’t understand the silent treatment, nor do I have the strength for it. All I want is to go into my room, have a shower, and get some sleep. I’m getting closer to my breaking point with each passing minute.
“Are you hurt?” Lev finally says, leaving me speechless for several seconds. “I asked if you have been injured in any way,” he says again. I shake my head. The gash on my hand is little more than a scratch.
“I… I’m fine,” I say through gritted teeth.
“Why did you leave?” Lev asks. He’s not yelling, or even raising his voice. Somehow, that scares me more than if he’d been screaming at me. I allow his words to sink for a few seconds before giving him an incredulous look.
“I didn’t know I was a prisoner in your house,” I tell him, working to keep my voice level and my eyes focused on his. My pride is the only defense I have against Lev’s smothering stare right now.
“Why did you go?” Lev asks, still in that silken tone.
I can’t believe we’re even having this conversation. Though I have no doubt that some sort of confrontation is inevitable.
“What’s it to you?” I snap, and Lev instantly stands. His towering height makes me shrink, but I’m not going to give him the satisfaction of seeing fear on my face.
“Why?” he repeats icily as he picks up the bottle of scotch and pours himself another glass.
Does he really need to ask that?
Isn’t it obvious?
I don’t know where this interrogation is heading, but I’m certain it’s not a good direction. His mood is surly.
“I needed to clear my head. I wanted to think,” I say with a shrug. Lev’s eyes narrow at my response. He empties the glass again, then stands with it dangling from his fingertips.
“About what?” Lev says with a deadly calm voice.
Seriously?
“What do you think?” I snap. I’m tired of this back-and-forth between us. Tired of being treated like a child. I’m hollow-eyed and heartsore and I don’t want to be near him.
Clenching my hands into fists and steeling my nerves, I turn to leave. Then shriek as something hurtles past me. The glass he was holding shatters against the wall beside the door, shards exploding around me.
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” he snarls. Somehow, he’s beside me and I’m staring up into his furious face.
“I… I’ve had enough of this,” I manage to croak out. He’s so close, I can feel his heat. Smell the whiskey on his breath, and the warm, woody scent of him.
Dear God, why is that making my nipples feel tight?
“You remember what I told you would happen if you disobeyed me?” He raises an eyebrow.
I swallow hard. Of course, I do.
Dammit.
“Don’t you dare touch me,” I whisper hoarsely. But my body is recalling the way he held me over his knees. How his hand burned my bare flesh. How it made me so desperate for something I couldn’t understand right then. I still don’t understand it.
I back up a step…though I don’t know whether it’s in fear of him, or the way my body is beginning to react. My next step comes to an abrupt halt as his hand snaps out. It closes around my throat beneath my jaw, and I make a sharp gasping sound as my breath seizes.
“Lev!” I choke out.
