VERA
The ropes graze against the sore skin on my wrists, as I sit frozen in the car seat. I won’t let him know how much he has derailed
me or how scared I am. Andrei can’t know that he has affected me with his claim.
I can smell him close. His strong pine and musk scent encasing me in the back of the moving vehicle. The roar of the engine is the only sound that falls between us.
I flinch as a hand connects with my thigh, squeezing. Andrei’s touch is more confusing than anything else. He’s gentle but dominating. A quality I find so intoxicating, despite everything.
The hood over my head is blocking all light, as I try to move away. The panic I feel at being in total darkness is high. Andrei doesn’t know how much I hate the dark, but it’s putting me on edge.
“Rasslabsiá ,” he mutters in a soft, husky voice. Relax in Russian.
The tone only serves to remind me of what he did to me yesterday morning. I can’t stop thinking about the way he made me feel. The phantom touch of his lips on mine, his teeth sinking into my lip and the pain that only intensified the pleasure he ignited deep inside of me.
“Where are we going?” I ask, recognizing my only voice.
The hand on my thigh tightens. “You will see.”
I tense at the edge in his voice. Three years of discipline and control training to ensure I never found myself in this exact situation. I’m no longer in the driver’s seat.
Andrei’s promise keeps repeating in my mind. It is like a broken record, playing repeatedly.
I will find out the truth about what happened to your mother, father, brother, and sister. I promise.
The way he kissed me only confused me more. I’ve never felt this way. How can I want a man who I spent years hating?
It feels like we’re driving for ages, the darkness making it easy to fall in and out of a troubled sleep. Finally, the vehicle comes to a stop. Andrei shifts next to me and whisks the hood off my head. I’m surprised to see it’s already pitch-black outside.
It’s impossible to tell where we are, but from the reflection of the moon in a glass like substance to the left, I assume we’re near water. A flood of panic coils through me from head to toe.
Andrei may intend to torture me, or kill me. Even though, after the way he’s acted toward me I’m sure that’s unlikely, the worry is always there.
Water is one of my biggest fears, since the day my family died. I found them floating on the edge of the stream that ran through our garden, blood staining it a deep red.
Ever since, I have gone nowhere near water. The fear I feel being close to it again paralyses me. Andrei gets out of the car, slamming the door shut.
I remain still and unmoving, staring at the shimmering liquid lit up by the stars and moon in the dark night sky.
He comes around to my side and opens the door, pulling me out and into his arms. I shiver as he stares at me.
“I’m sorry about the ropes.” He glances at my wrists. “My sovietnik insisted I take precautions, but now it’s just us, I’ll take them off once we’re inside.” He nods toward the log cabin we’ve pulled up outside of. I was too focused on the water to even notice it.
His warm, hard body remains pressed against me as he carries me toward the home, lifting me over the threshold as one of his men open the door for us. Once inside, he sets me down on my feet.
“Is there anything else, sir?” His man asks.
Andrei shakes his head. “No, that will be all. Thank you, Yakov.”
He gives me a wary look, glancing between me and his boss once more, before bowing his head and leaving us alone. I can’t understand why my thighs quiver at that thought. I’m alone with him.
He starts toward me, and I take a step back as he draws a knife. My heart rate pounds and I try to make a run for it, tripping over a step behind me. “Vera, I’ve told you, I won’t hurt you.” His firm but gentle grip lands on my arm and he uses the knife to cut the ropes around my wrists. “I want you to trust me.”
I rub my red, rope-burned skin, glancing at him. “Sorry.” I shake my head. “It’s hard for me to trust anyone.” I glance around the stylish and well decorated log cabin, feeling the heat of the roaring fire. “Where are we?”
Andrei steps toward me. “My safe house.” His arms wrap around my shoulders and he guides me toward the living area, nearer to the fire. “My men are working to find out is behind the attempt on my life and who killed your family.”
A twinge of pain ignites in my chest, making it difficult to breathe. “We’re no longer in New York?”
His dark eyes flash and he shakes his head. “Sit.”
I do as he says, sinking into the plush, beige sofa right in front of the fire.
He sits beside me, setting a hand on my thigh. “We will stay here as long as necessary, Printsessa.” He shifts closer to me, staring at me with such intensity I can feel my panties dampening by the second. Ever since he has touched me in that way, I can no longer ignore the sick craving for him deep inside of me.
It still makes me feel ashamed that I want him. Even though I’m certain he didn’t kill my family, he’s a man I’ve spent three years hating. I’ve spent three years plotting his murder for God’s sake.
“I still want you to be my submissive, Vera,” he says, voice laced with hot desire.
I lick my bottom lip, wanting to give it all to him, despite everything. He grabs my chin, tilting my face toward him. “You are so damn beautiful.” He moves his lips closer to mine.
I shut my eyes, as he kisses me—somehow, it makes it more bearable. A part of me wants this more than anything, but another part is programmed to believe he is the enemy. It feels like I’m being torn in two.
He senses my reluctance and moves away. “What’s wrong?”
“I-I don’t know… I just can’t believe how wrong I got everything.”
He nods and stands, walking away from the sofa and into the kitchen. “I will get dinner started, then we can talk.”
I blink twice, watching as he grabs a pan out of the cupboard. If there’s one thing I never expected to see Andrei Petrov do, it is cook, for me.
He opens the fridge door and pulls out ingredients. “Do you like Blinis?”
I stand and walk toward him, wondering how this man is the same one who I’d heard all these awful stories about. “Yes, I love them.” I don’t mention that my dad used to cook them for us all the time when we were kids. The thought of Andrei cooking them for me now makes my stomach twist with nerves.
“I’ve got mincemeat or cheese for the filling. Which do you prefer?”
I sink my teeth into my bottom lip. “Mincemeat filling and cheese on top,” I say, remembering how I loved them when my dad did them like that.
He smiles at me. “Exactly how I like them.”
I watch as he gets to work, finding it soothing to see him cooking for me. It also means he can’t touch me either, as he’s too busy. I’m afraid of what I will do, alone with him.
After we’ve both finished eating, I stand and clear the plates. Andrei’s chair scrapes across the ground, alerting me to the fact that he is following me. I set the dishes in the sink and run the water, waiting for it to get hot.
His presence behind me is impossible to ignore as his warmth seems to permeate the surrounding air. That pine, masculine scent, invading my senses and making me weak at the knees.