I lower her foot gently to the floor, but neither of us moves. The air between us pulls taut. One wrong breath, and it’ll snap.
Her hair clings to her temples, damp with sweat, strands wild and curling like they’ve been gripped by desperation. Her lipstick is smeared, bitten raw from holding back the sounds I’ll replay in my mind until they drive me insane.
She looks like a mess. And it is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
My fingers twitch against my thigh. The urge to touch her again, just one more time, rips through me. To taste what I’ve already claimed. To feel her fall apart again just to prove I can make her do it.
But I don’t do a thing. Because if I touch her now, I won’t stop.
And God help us both if that happens.
Forcing myself to step back, I put distance between us before the hate curdling in my blood shifts into something worse. Something dangerous. Something I do not know how to survive.
Hate, I can handle. Rage, I can harness. But anything more? Anything real? That could break me.
And I do not break. Not for anyone.
I start for the door and grasp the knob, ready to leave her behind.
“Aleksei.”
As soon as she calls me, I’m pulled to a halt. I don’t look at her as I wait for what she has to say.
“Thank you.” Her voice…it’s low and sincere, and I’ve never heard it that way.
But I say nothing. Because there is nothing to say. Instead, I walk out into the night, my footsteps loud in the quiet, every one of them echoing with the same question I refuse to answer.
How the hell did I go from wanting to destroy her to needing to protect her more than anything else in this world?
CHAPTER TEN
FIONA
It’s not eventen in the morning, and every step sends fire through the soles of my feet. The torn skin from last night’s sprint through the woods still stings with each shift of weight, an aching reminder of everything that happened with Aleksei.
Not just the reckless sex against a tree. The way he bandaged my wounds after. The way he carried me. Like I meant something.
God, no.I shut that thought down immediately.
Who cares if the man cleaned my cuts like the world’s most attentive boyfriend? He is still Aleksei fucking Marinov. Cold, criminal, manipulative Aleksei, who dug under my skin like a toxin without an antidote.
There’s absolutely no way in hell I can ever allow that to happen again. That was a mistake. An unbelievably pleasurable mistake, if you don’t count the pain I’m currently in, but a complete lapse in judgement.
One I don’t plan to make again. Ever.
I force the memory down, bury it deep, and refocus on the real reason I’m driving away from the comfort of my home on a morning that should’ve belonged to peace and quiet.
Mom called earlier, asking if I could come by the vineyard to sit in on a meeting with a potential investor. I said yes before she finished the sentence. The last thing I want is for them to be blindsided by some slick-talking bastard, especially when I have a perfectly honed bullshit radar and a law degree to back it up.
And maybe it’s selfish, but I’m glad for the distraction. I need something else to focus on. Something that does not involve replaying the way my body responded for a man I refuse to name, lest I conjure the devil. Or worse, summon that feeling. That unbearable emptiness that followed the second he walked away.
When I pull into the vineyard, I spot a dark sedan already parked out front. The sun is strong, casting long shadows through the rows of vines as I make my way inside.
The man waiting in the office rises when I enter, offering a smile that feels too easy before I give my parents a hug in greeting.
“You must be the famous Fiona. Your parents haven’t stopped talking about you.” He reaches for my hand with a charming smile. “Pleasure to meet you. I’m Wesley Dawson.”
As we shake, I take a moment to study him. Late forties, dark hair, dark blue eyes. Attractive in that polished country club kind of way with his fancy suit and watch, to go along with that easy confidence of a man who’s used to closing deals and getting his way.
