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“You’ve got yourself a deal, Ms. Antonova.”
“Excellent,” she says with a disarmingly beautiful grin. “I’ll have my lawyer organize all the formal paperwork. It was a pleasure meeting the two of you.”
“And you, Ms. Antonova,” Ruslun says, an unmistakable wobble in his goofy voice. The poor man’s fallen for her already.
Big mistake.
“You can see yourselves out,” she says. “I want to have a word with Mr. Nicolaevich.”
They both leave in a hurry, clutching their towels as they skitter away like wet dogs, their sandals squeaking under foot as they do. It isn’t long before they disappear from sight and we’re officially alone.
Before I have the chance to say or do anything, Sandra straddles my lap, slipping a hand beneath her towel to pull out a knife. She presses the blade to my throat with a smirk. I dare not move, the metal biting angrily into my skin.
“I’m not going to ask where you were hiding that,” I grumble. “Is it revenge you want, princess? Get it over with already.”
Except she does no such thing. Instead, she holds my gaze, so breathtaking and intense I momentarily forget how we got here in the first place. Her body feels wonderful against me. So soft and warm—but she’s the furthest thing from delicate. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a woman more mesmerizing.
“Come on,” I goad her. “Do it. You know you want to.”
Sandra scoffs. “Don’t talk like you know me.”
“Ah, that’s right. You Antonovs hate spilling blood.”
She leans forward slightly, pressing her knife hard enough that I feel a trickle of blood drip down my throat and over my chest. I don’t miss the way she watches it, licking her lips as she takes in my body and tattooed skin.
“What happened to Mikhail?” I ask her. “I wasn’t aware he’d stepped down.”
“Keep his name out of your mouth,” she snarls, her voice vibrating straight through me.
Fuck, this shouldnotbe this sexy, but I can’t think very well with the heat of Sandra’s thighs straddling me. My cock throbs desperately, straining against the towel around my waist. There’s no doubt in my mind she can feel just how badly she’s affecting me.
“Listen to me very carefully,” she says, “because I’m not going to warn you again. Leave Moscow and never return. Abandon whatever plans you have in the works and leave with your life.”
“You’re threatening me?”
“Does the fucking knife to your throat not get that message across?”
“If you’re in charge now, why haven’t you sent your men to take back the southern okrug by force?”
She rolls her eyes. “The land you strong-armed my father out of isn’t worth the bullets. I’d frankly rather not have the police breathing down my neck.”
I click my tongue. “You disappoint me, Sandra.”
“What did you say?”
“You’re just a little girl playing dress up. Arealpakhan would have killed me already.”
My words don’t seem to bother her in the slightest. Her eyes flick down to my lips, the sweetness of her breath brushing against my cheeks. I could kiss her if I wanted to, but I’d rather not risk a beheading.
“I’ll kill you some other time,” she says as she hops off my lap.
Before she leaves, she drives the knife down with a mighty swing, stabbing the blade right between my splayed legs—waytoo close for comfort.
“What the fuck?” I exclaim, my heart lodged in my throat.
Sandra winks. “Just wanted to help you get rid of your hard-on.”
“If this is your idea of flirting, you need to get your damn head checked.”
