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I slowly came back around, first noticing my throat was sore as if I’d swallowed ten fiery shots of homemade vodka back-to-back. Panic hit first, then rage that my brother was right, though I didn’t really think he’d gloat at my funeral. I kept my eyes closed, trying to assess the situation and determine if I could escape. I slowly moved my legs and found they were free, though I was covered by a blanket. A nice, fresh-smelling blanket, but maybe the Novikoffs were fastidious murderers? My hope increased until I carefully moved my arms. It plummeted when I found my left wrist zip-tied to something hard and smooth.
My head felt surprisingly free, and as I lay there pretending to still be asleep, I realized whoever had grabbed me had taken my wig off. They had to know for sure who I was before they put the bullet in my head. That made sense. But why was I still alive?
I opened one eye to see my wrist bound to a gleaming brass post. Crisp white linen blocked the rest of my view until I slightly tilted my head a bit. A crystal lamp sat atop a marble-topped bedside table, and the wall beyond it was papered in a tasteful cream brocade design.
Okay, why was I still alive and in such a luxurious prison?
I shifted again to take in more of my surroundings. A man in a dark gray suit sat at a highly polished wooden desk, but his back was to me, and all I could make out was a thick, dark mane of hair that brushed the top of his collar. He dwarfed the fancy, spindly-legged chair. Something about him was overwhelmingly familiar, but he didn’t seem to be any of the men I’d been spying on for the last few days.
“I know you’re awake,” a voice that made my blood heat up in my veins said. That wryly amused tone was one I’d heard a thousand times before.
He slowly turned, and the blast from the past was utterly overwhelming, along with all the feelings I thought were long buried. They weren’t buried deep enough, or I wouldn’t have put his picture back on my workspace. And when he smiled at me, those feelings scrambled right out and smacked me in the heart. And other places.
Mikhail Roslov. My best friend’s father.
God, he was still so gorgeous. More than ever, really. I thought if I could avoid him, he’d eventually stop being larger than life in my thoughts, but the fact was he was just plain larger than life. Tall, even sitting in that silly, ornate chair. Broad shoulders only accentuated by his tailored suit. The dark waves streaked with bronze from the sun were messy at his temples as if he’d been running his long fingers through them. Something he did when he was irritated or worried. And like always, I wanted to smooth it with my fingers, then cup his strong jaw and stare into his bottomless, espresso-colored eyes. My gaze fell on his lips, still smiling at me. How many dreams had I had about kissing those lips?
“Hello, Evelina. I’ve been talking to your father. Seems like you’ve been a bad girl.”
Anger washed away my foolish lust, and I sat up, wrenching my bound wrist but hardly feeling the pain. The flicker of concern that crossed his handsome face didn’t make me waver from my wrath.
This was going to ruin everything I’d been working toward! I was too close to letting Mikhail derail me now.
“You—” I sputtered, shooting a glare that would have sent most people cowering.
Still, that smile. “It’s good to see you again, too.”
No. I wouldn’t be swayed, made to see reason or give in to his endless charm. My future was on the line. I gnashed my teeth at him and prepared to make him sorry he’d ever sided with my dad against me.
Chapter 4 - Mikhail
As a child, Evelina could take down a house with the force of her rages, and it looked like she was about to show me that nothing had changed. I couldn’t blame her for being mad since I sent one of my guys to pick her up, but how she looked at me now showed me I had made the right decision. She was so stubborn she couldn’t see reason even when her damn life was in danger, so brute force was the only answer.
As she opened her mouth, I watched her delicate eyebrows draw together over her piercing green eyes. She was about to start hollering the roof off the place. I hurried over and pressed my finger over those luscious lips, quickly pulling it away before she could bite it off.
“Don’t bother screaming,” I said. That was a big mistake. Now she looked more determined than ever to deafen the entire hotel. I shrugged, leaning close enough to smell her strawberry shampoo. “Or go ahead. Scream yourself hoarse if you want. I paid a lot for this suite and informed management that my guest might get noisy.”
I was bluffing, but she bought it, snapping her mouth shut on a mere squeak. Her face grew red with even more rage than what she woke up with.
Since I had to spend the last half an hour watching over her, I wasn’t in the best of moods either. Not just the fact my bodyguard and I had to take turns hauling her up the stairs to my hotel suite. Once she was laid out on the bed, there was far too much time to take in the skin-tight jeans clinging to hips I longed to mold my fingers to. The way her beautiful dark hair spilled across the pillow once I took that ridiculous blonde wig off made me envision knotting it into my hand and tugging her head back so I could better reach her smooth throat with my tongue. It was fucking annoying, and I finally threw a blanket over her body since I couldn’t stop gaping at her.
No, she wasn’t a little girl anymore. Far from it, I wouldn’t let her start acting like one to get what she wanted. Right now, what I wanted was more important: to keep her alive.
I gave her a death glare right back to her, shaking my head at her sputtering outrage at having been bested. She always hated to lose. She rarely did, and if it had been one of Novikoff’s people who grabbed her in the park, she might have gotten away. But I knew she’d be carrying and exactly how she’d fight since I was there to oversee most of her self-defense classes, along with Kristina.
All the women in the Roslov and Morozov families were well-equipped to care for themselves, but I had sent my guy out prepared. Knowledge was power, not to mention he was built like a mountain and had no qualms about doing whatever I ordered.
Yes, I knew a lot about Evelina, and being so close to her after so long, seeing the gorgeous woman she’d become, had me wanting to get to know her more. A lot more. The way her eyes seared into mine, so full of passion, even though I knew it was born from wrath, made me feel the usual iron grip on my self-control slipping away.
That couldn’t happen. Not ever. I had a job to do. Keep my best friend’s daughter safe, not trail my finger down the side of her cheek to her parted lips to part them further. Lean down and ravage that angry mouth until she whimpered and begged for more. It didn’t help that she was still zip tied to the bed, her breasts straining against her top with every heaving breath she took. She would be at my mercy. Until I was at hers because I had a strong feeling, she’d give as good as she got.
Jesus Christ.
I hurriedly got up to grab a pair of scissors off the desk, snipping away her binding. There. No longer at my mercy. Didn’t help much, which bothered me. Where was the control I prided myself in having? This little girl had me close to being weak in the knees, about to start fumbling for her bra so I could glimpse her ripe tits.
It had to stop, and now.
“So, you know why you’re here, then?” I asked once I moved further away so I could cool down.
