While we explore, I look for a way out. But through every window out to the garden, all I see is security. This place is a fortress, even though it looks like paradise.
“You said there would be fresh clothes for me?” I ask, biting at my cheek.
“Yes, come on, I’ll show you the bedroom and ensuite.”
Yulian leads me upstairs to a massive bedroom. It’s just as bright as the rest of the house, with natural light flooding in from massive windows and green plants framing the sliding doors leading out onto a balcony overlooking the garden.
“Wow,” I mutter for the tenth time.
“The bathroom is through there.” He gestures towards an open door, then opens the closet. “Your clothes are in here.”
Looking around, I scrunch my nose. “This room is really big,” I remark.
“Well, it’s the main bedroom, I wanted a lot of space. I don’t like to feel suffocated.”
“This is your room?” I blurt out, horrified.
“Yes, we’ll have to share it while we’re here.”
“I’m not sharing a room with you. This is a mansion. There must be a hundred other rooms.”
He chuckles, that beautiful, sexy laugh that makes my body tingle.
“Katerina, this is the only room that’s finished. The others aren’t even furnished yet. The bed is big enough for both of us.” He waves his hand casually over the bed, as though the size of it is the issue.
“I’m not sharing a bed with you,” I stomp my foot to emphasize my point.
His grin grows wider. “Because you’re afraid you can’t resist me?” His voice is low and husky as he takes a step towards me.
My heart bursts into unrestrained rhythm. Beating too fast. Too hard.
“N—no. That’s not the reason,” I murmur, stepping away from him. Already, heat is building between my legs as I think about how he moved over me. How he thrust into me.
I swallow hard, an audible gulp.
His smile is sexy, mischievous.
“It’s okay, Katerina. If you are worried that you won’t be able to keep your hands off me, just tell me. Temptation can be a real problem. Maybe if I tied your hands, it would help…?” he keeps moving closer to me. Teasing me. Provoking me.
The erotic images that flood my mind are darkly delicious. The idea of him binding me, doing whatever he wants to me, it’s almost too much to bear.
“I’m not sharing your bed!” I shout, shoving him hard in the chest, pushing him away from me. But he doesn’t move.
His eyes flare. Not angry. Not upset.
Challenged.
He likes this game. He likes pushing me to my limits. He likes my fierce reaction.
I try to push him again, but he’s like a brick wall, immovable and solid. He grabs my wrist and tugs me against his chest. His body is pressing into me. I can feel his muscles. His warmth. His breathing is heavy as he looks down at me.
A low rumbling growl rolls through him, reminding me of the night we shared.
His eyes are on my lips, and unconsciously, I take in a sharp breath, opening my mouth, waiting to feel his against mine.
Anger spikes through me again. Anger that he’s put me in this position. That he’s pushing me. Tempting me. That he has any power over me at all.
I tug my wrist away so suddenly that he doesn’t have a chance to stop me. Free from his grasp, I stagger backwards and glare at him with malice.
