A phone rang, and Dmitri answered it quickly. “What'd you find out, Georgi?”
The person on the other line said a bunch of things that I couldn't hear. Whatever it was, Dmitri wasn't happy about it.
“I understand. Keep me posted.” He ended the call and turned his attention back to me. “Looks like your apartment was raided.”
“WHAT???” I shouted. “How do you know? How do you even have my address?”
“None of that is important right now. Because you're safe and everything else is replaceable.”
I backed up a step, shaking my head. “I don’t even know who. I don’t know why. I don’t know anything. And I—” My voice wavered. I shut my eyes tight for a second. “I can’t do this. Not with you. Not at your place. Not after everything. It's not a coincidence that you're back and my life has been flipped upside down.”
He stepped closer. “You think I’m gonna let you out of my sight after what just happened? Even if whatever is going on comes back to me, I'm for damn sure am not about to leave you alone to figure it out.”
“You don’t get to make that decision.”
“The fuck I don’t.”
His voice dipped—not louder, not softer, justtrue. A vow made of steel. I forced myself to straighten. Calm. Rationalize. Be anything but the frantic mess I was inside.
“I appreciate the rescue,” I said, steadying my tone. “But going home with you is not an option.”
“You’d rather go back to your place? Alone? Where whoever ran you off the road knows exactly how to find you? In the apartment that's been torn apart?”
My stomach flipped. “You don’t know if they'll?—”
“I know enough to not risk it.” He took another step. I backed into my car. He braced one hand beside my head, caging me without touching me. “I’m not asking.”
“And I’m not agreeing. I won't be bullied into agreeing, Dmitri.”
“So stubborn,” he muttered, eyes dropping to my lips like he hadn’t meant to. “Why?”
“Because you complicate things.”
“And you think I give a fuck about complications tonight?”
A beat passed. Too thick. Too loaded. Heat mounted us both, I could tell from the flare of his nose, the way he seemed to be holding back against his will, and from the way his glance danced over my facial features. He wanted me. I wanted him. However, we couldn't do that thing we both desired.
He exhaled softly, like he was trying to get control. “You’re scared. That’s the only reason you’re arguing with me.”
“I’m not scared,” I said firmly.
“You are.” His eyes softened just a fraction. “And that’s why you’re coming with me.”
I hated that he was right. I wasn't going to admit it, though. Not to Dmitri. He'd use that to crawl deeper into my head and shred my soul for his sick pleasure. I hated how much I wanted to say yes. I hated that his arms were the safest place I’d been all night.
But I lifted my chin, anyway. “I’m not spending the night in your bed, Dmitri.”
A slow, wicked smirk curved the corner of his mouth.
“Princess,” he murmured, leaning in so close his breath warmed my cheek, “if I wanted you in my bed tonight... you wouldn’t be arguing with me from the street. Instead, you'd be begging me not to leave it.”
My knees wobbled.
“I’m taking you to my house,” he finished, his voice dropping into something final. “Where you’ll be safe. Where I can protect you.”
“And after that?” I challenged.
His jaw tensed. “After that, we talk.”
