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“You’re very confident for someone who doesn’t know a fucking thing,” he growls. There’s a new ripple of undercurrent in his voice. This one is dangerous.
I shrug. “There is a reason you offered to buy me pizza the night we met. There is a reason you invited me up to your hotel room.”
“You’re right,” he sighs. “Because you were closer than the woman on the other side of the bar.”
I flinch back at the bite in his tone. Even though it hurts, I recognize he’s just trying to keep me at arm’s length. More thorns. Let them tear me apart; I don’t give a shit anymore.
“Bullshit.” I walk over and join him next to the bed. “Tell me the truth. Why did you pick me?”
Suddenly, I’m annoyed with my homely, oversized clothes. I want to make his heart race. I want to make himfeelsomething.
He looks me over. “You were the more interesting option.”
“Interesting?” I raise my brows. “Is that a compliment?”
“You can interpret it however you’d like.”
“Fine. I interpret it as you finding me ravishing. Jaw-dropping. Ethereally beautiful, like an angel descended to Earth. You’d never seen a woman more stunning, and you had to have me or you’d die.”
He smiles like it’s funny, and I want to punish those cruelly beautiful lips for what they do both to his face and to me. But then the ice in his silver eyes starts to melt, just a little, and suddenly, I’m fine being the butt of the joke.
“I’m tired, too,” I declare.
He extends his arm, leading me towards the bed. “Then be my guest.”
“What are you going to do?”
He turns and grabs the dog-eared book on his nightstand. Then he drops down into the chair in the corner. “I think I’ll read for a bit.”
We’ll see about that.
“Suit yourself,” I say with a shrug.
Then I pull my too large t-shirt over my head, revealing my nakedness underneath it.
Misha’s eyes take in my newly-exposed skin for only a few seconds before he forces his gaze back to the book.
I turn my back on him and pull down my sweats. I can’t see him, but I can feel his eyes on my ass. I purposely bend low to pull off the sweats and drape them over the foot of the bed. Then, stark naked, I peel the duvet down and drape myself on top of the luxuriously soft mattress. I don’t rush to cover myself, though.
Instead, I twist my hips to the side, bowing my back in a stretch. Then I lay a hand on my hip and stare at him. “I read that book the other night.”
He glances up at me, his eyes snaking over my body before diving back down to the page. “No, you didn’t.”
I frown. I was lying, obviously, but… “How do you know?”
“Because you don’t speak Russian.”
Oh.“Maybe I do.”
“I know for a fact you do not. It would’ve shown up in the background check.”
I drop the pretense of my half-assed seduction attempt and sit bolt upright. “Shown up in the—excuse me? You ran abackground checkon me?”
This time, he keeps his gaze fixed firmly on the page. “Do you take me for a fool, Paige Orlov?”
I shudder. His name claiming mine, swallowing it up like that, is going to take some serious getting used to. I have a feeling it won’t take long before he consumes a whole lot more of me. “Have you ever trusted anyone in your life?”
His expression softens. For a second, just a fraction of a piece of a bit of a second, I get a glimpse of a younger Misha. An innocent, open-hearted version of him that is buried so far down I’m not sure it will ever rise to the surface again.
