Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 100796 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100796 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
I could say I was just doing my job.
Or I could argue since I’d taken a life, and I planned to take another, I deserved whatever Vasilije gave me. But the reality was so much worse. I enjoyed what was supposed to be punishment. His dominance was scary and too much, but it made me feel alive. His control was . . . freedom.
I cleaned up in the half-bath and pulled the pins out of my hair, raking my fingers through the curly mess to get it to lay so it didn’t look quite so ridiculous. When I came out, I glanced down the long hallway and sucked in a breath.
He was off the phone. He stood shirtless in the darkened office, his hands resting on his hips and his head tipped down, looking like he was deep in thought. Light from the arched window nearby played over his lean, sculpted form. He was violently beautiful.
Had he sensed my eyes on him? His head lifted and our gazes met. I couldn’t interpret his expression. The closest word I could use to describe it was ‘conflicted.’ His focus swept down my body, and then back up again, moving more deliberate this time.
“Come here,” he said.
The world tilted on an angle at his quiet request, and it made it difficult to walk down the hallway on heels to meet him at the base of the stairs.
“Are you all right?” I whispered.
He blinked. “I’m fine.” His eyebrows pulled together. “Are you? I was . . .” His tone was uneven and he held up a hand like he might pull the word he was looking for out of thin air. Instead, his hand dropped abruptly. “Rough.”
I licked my lips, trying to keep my mouth from going dry. Maybe I’d been wrong about him. Perhaps the devil did have feelings, because this reaction seemed like concern. He was thinking about someone other than himself. He was worried about me. My knees softened and my lackluster heart tripped over itself. “You didn’t do anything I couldn’t handle.”
I was pulled into his embrace, and my body sang a beautiful melody of ache. I hadn’t realized how badly I needed this until his strong arms were circled around me.
“You didn’t answer my question,” he said, his strict tone forced. Like he was using it to disguise his worry. “Are you all right?”
“Yes,” I lied. It’d been true until this moment, and now I was falling apart, not understanding the cause.
“You’re shaking.”
I was. A tremor rocked my foundation. “I don’t know why.”
His black eyes grew deeper. “Sit down.”
He urged me onto the steps, and as I leaned back, I cupped his cheek and pulled him with me. Did he think I was crazy for wanting him close, especially after what he’d just done, and how I was acting like I was terrified? I was seated with my back against the stair treads, and Vasilije knelt between my parted legs. He supported himself on his fists, hovering over me.
He was too far away. I snaked my arms around his back and dragged him the rest of the way down, clinging to him as our bodies flattened together. I’d never felt so fucking needy in my life. I gripped him tighter and tighter, until I was sure there was no more space between us.
His head was buried in the side of my neck, and as he tolerated my ferocious hold, his breathing went shallow. I expected him to push off me at any moment, or for him to make a shitty comment, but he didn’t. Vasilije crouched over me on the steps and allowed my embrace. He wedged his arm beneath my back and between two steps, holding me as much as I was him.
We stayed like that for a long time.
All the way until the tremble faded from my body, and my arms softened around his shoulders. I felt less shattered, and more like myself as the strange, unwanted emotions drained away.
“Who were you talking to?” It came out soft, but I was stunned at how steady my voice was.
There was a long pause before his lips moved against the side of my throat. “Someone I hired to track down a guy.”
“What guy?”
Vasilije lifted his head, just enough so I could get a look at his intense expression. “A man I need to kill.”
My mouth rounded into a wordless “oh,” as if that were enough information.
“The night my mom died . . .” He sighed. “My dad believed my mom was cheating on him. It’s why she came home to find him with his dick inside another woman. He wanted to get caught. It was revenge.” Vasilije’s expression clouded like an approaching storm. “Except the whole story about her cheating was made up by my uncle’s bodyguard.”
It took me a moment to process. “Why would he—”