Then he straightened his back, rolled his shoulders, and grinned.
Iacob and Maxim shifted uneasily.
He wasn’t sure what it said about him that it made people nervous when he smiled. He also wasn’t about to tell them that this smile was one of pure fucking joy, and maybe a little relief.
Nikolett had him kidnapped. That was a sign she cared.
She still wanted him.
He’d have to call Elijah and inform the good doctor that he’d been all wrong, and kidnapping really was the best option for him and Nikolett.
Nikolett studied his smile, her expression still unreadable.
“Leave us,” she said after a moment.
“Admiral, that seems stupid.”
Grigoris’ voice came from behind him. He was speaking Hungarian, and Eric wasn’t entirely sure about the translation of the last word.
“We are far past the point of any of this being wise,” Nikolett replied in English as she rose, stepping toward him until Eric had to crane his neck to look up at her.
This close, he could see that, as impassive as the rest of her expression was, her eyes burned with emotion.
His grin faded as he identified pain, fear, anger, and maybe delicate hope in her gaze.
He had a strange feeling that right now, they were both made of glass—strong and solid, born of fire and sand—yet fragile.
“He won’t hurt me.” Slowly, Nikolett traced the backs of her fingers down the side of his face, from temple to jaw.
Eric shivered, eyes sliding closed, every cell of his body responding to her touch.
“Go,” Nikolett said softly. “Victoire may need help running interference with the Spartan Guard.”
That answered that question at least. His people weren’t in on it.
He was fairly certain once Regina knew who’d taken him, she wouldn’t fight too hard to get him back. She would be pissed they’d managed to take him in the first place, but that was a later problem.
There was a pregnant pause, during which he leaned his head against her hand. She uncurled her fingers, cupping his cheek.
Acute relief flooded him, leaving him almost lightheaded.
Footsteps retreated, followed by the faint click of a door closing.
They were alone.
Nikolett’s hand dropped from his cheek.
Eric opened his eyes, watching as she returned to her seat, just as regal as a moment ago, though her expression was less guarded.
She crossed her legs.
Eric shuffled forward on his knees, hands still cuffed behind his back. He didn’t need his hands for this. He’d nudge her until she uncrossed her legs and?—
Nikolett planted one foot against his pec, the tip of her stiletto heel digging in as she held him back.
Eric ran his gaze from her shiny black shoe up her ankle and calf to her knee. With her leg raised and bent, her skirt slid upenough for him to see the lacy top of the thigh-high stockings he hadn’t realized she was wearing.
Her skirt pooled and draped around her upper thighs, concealing things he very much wanted to see. And lick.
