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“You and me both.”
He gets up from the couch and walks toward the door. “There’s a grand piano in the main room, just so you know.”
Not long after Dimitri leaves, I take another look at the notebook and decide to grab it along with the novels and take them back to my room. Many of them fall from my arms because of how many I grab at once.
My eyes strain as I read till the sun goes down. I don’t even realize how long it’s been until I can’t see the words anymore. This is the first time I’ve been able to take my mind off the fact I’m trapped on a boat.
Starting to feel hungry, I make my way into the kitchen with the intention of grabbing an apple, but instead I find Mikhail. His back is bare of any clothing, but he’s still wearing his suit pants.
“You should announce yourself when you walk into a room.”
I know he’s talking to me, and I can understand him, but I ignore him as I look at the marks on his back. At first I didn’t notice them. I was too focused on his muscles and the tattoo covering his entire back, many pieces of art all connected into one. But the scars ... They’re long slashes. Some of them are longer and thicker than the rest.
“What happened to your back?” I ask even though I know I should stay quiet and rush back to my room.
“You know what they say about the cat, don’t you, Sloane?” He directs his attention away from the stove and brings it to me.
My head tilts as I try to understand. “The cat?”
He grabs the handle of the pot and pours the food into a bowl. “Curiosity killed it.”
I hunch over and roll my eyes. “You’re hilarious, truly.”
“Don’t be a cat. I’m not really in the mood to kill you right now.”
I make an annoyed face and walk up to the counter to grab an apple out of the wicker basket. Does he expect me to be thankful for his words?
The energy in the room shifts when I feel how close he is to me. If I were to lift my elbow up slightly, his skin would be on mine. There’s something about Mikhail that I find enticing when I shouldn’t, but I can’t help but want to know more about him.
I turn on my heel and face him. His attention is on the stove as he stirs the food. My eyes trace his body. He’s tall, and his broad shoulders make his waist appear thinner than the rest of his body.
While I admire the sort of beauty the devil can create, I notice how orderly Mikhail is. It’s beyond me how he can cook something messy and yet not leave a speck of mess anywhere on the white counter. The spoon even has a holder on the side of the stove, but he rinses it off before placing it down.
He gives me a sideways glare before he dips a spoon into the soup and brings it to my lips. “Try it,” he demands.
I look at the spoon and question if it’s poisoned. The idea doesn’t shock me as much as it should. It’s definitely something he’d do.
As if he can read my thoughts, Mikhail takes the spoon away from me and tastes it for himself. Then, dipping it back into the pot, he brings another spoonful to my lips. I push it away and watch in shock as the liquid sprays up over his face.
Fuck, I didn’t mean to do that.
Every muscle in his face relaxes as he reaches down and pulls the hem of my shirt up to his face, wiping off the soup. “Your series of poor choices ends today,moya malenkaya koldunya.”My little witch.
Ignoring his thoughtless demands, I ask, “Was it someone in your family who did that to you?”
He slams the pot down on the stove and steps toward me. Every muscle in his jaw hardens as he grabs me by the neck. “What did you just say?”
My hands hold onto his as his fingers dig into my skin. I can breathe just fine, but he’s cutting off my circulation.
When he realizes I’m struggling, he releases his grip. “Get out of my sight,” he demands.
My hands replace his as I try to soothe the skin he grabbed. No one’s ever grabbed me like that before.
Mikhail simply looks down at me in disgust.
I shake my head slowly and walk to the stairs to call it a night.
I thought I could do this. I thought I could handle him, but now I realize this man doesn’t make empty threats.
