“This is the only way I know to live,” he growled. Anger and frustration glittered like diamonds among the darkness of his eyes. “No one will hurt you and not pay for it.”
“Then walk away.” I swallowed hard, helpless to glance at his lips frowning at me. “Walk away from this life. For me.”
“You’ve got no idea what the hell you’re asking me.”
I shook my head the best I could with him holding me in place. “I’m not asking. I’m telling you. Walk away from this life of constant violence or I will leave again.”
“Don’t give me a fucking ultimatum, Claire. You don’t have that power.”
There it was. I had the answer I didn’t realize I was looking for. I had no power over him. In the back of my mind, I’d been wondering if he truly cared. If he could love me and want to keep me.
“I want you,” I admitted, ashamed of how much that truth was my undoing. “I need you, Mikhail.” Tears burned in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I had always been a sappy drunk, but I wouldn’t let him see me cry for him, for the cruel fact that we’d never be compatible, from two different worlds. More than ever before, he seemed to be my only option to stay alive. He had thepower, the means. He was so wealthy and fearsome that I could be safe with him—if I gave away all that I was to be his. If I sacrificed my morals, my ethics, my conscience.
And I couldn’t.
Not when I was just here for him to fuck and use as a private doctor.
Not when he couldn’t admit that I had any hold of love over him.
“I can’t,” he said, lowering his voice as he rubbed his thumb over my cheek. “I can’t just change. Not like that. Not for you.”
I backed up, but he held me close. My heart shattered as he bore me with that intense stare, as if he was seeing through me and torturing not only my heart but my soul.
“I can’t change for you, Claire. I won’t.” He frowned, licking his lip as he leaned lower. “And nothing will change about how much I need you to stay with me. For me.”
Before he could press his mouth to mine, I closed my eyes and shoved out of his hold, pushing him away.
23
MIKHAIL
“No.” Claire turned from me, shifting her head lower to avoid my kiss.
I didn’t wait to follow her. Before, I thought it would make the most sense to give her space. Now, I realized that was my mistake.
“I can’t…”
I gritted my teeth, annoyed that she’d try that line again with me.
“Can’t, or won’t?” I growled as I reached for her. Snagging her upper arm, I forced her to face me again. As she spun, she crashed into me. Her hands rose up, planted on my chest. Her breasts smashed between us as I gathered her in a tight hug. With the lift of her sudden inhale, surprise clear in her bright eyes, she parted her lips.
I didn’t wait. I couldn’t. Feeling her warm and supple as she gasped at my mouth covering hers undid the panic, fury, and worry that I’d struggled with since she'd dared to take off. Everysecond of her being gone was agony, and I was impatient to find my way back to her.
Her protest was muffled as I sealed my lips to hers. Or maybe she was trying to reply to the harsh question I’d given her.
Pushing me once more, she broke the kiss. Rearing back, she glowered at me, full of heat and irritation. “I said no, Mikhail. I can’t?—”
I growled, taking hold of the back of her head to pull her close again. Addicted to the bite of her teeth, the suction of her lips, I dove in to plunge my tongue into her mouth again.
She nipped at my lip, and I yanked back, turned on by her sass and fight. The hint of alcohol lingered in her mouth, adding another layer of mystique to this kiss. She wasn’t drunk yet. She was tipsy, but still with it enough to know what she was doing.
“I said I can’t do this anymore,” she argued, looking as fierce and stubborn as she had the one time she’d slapped me.
“Can’t do this?” I snarled, pulling her in again and kissing her as I lowered my hand to her stomach. Then lower yet, sneaking my fingers beneath the waistband of her small sleep shorts.
As I reached the warm, already wet slit of her pussy, she gasped. Her mouth parted again, and I didn’t waste the invitation to duel with her tongue again. Between the desire linking us together and the probable heat of the liquor changing her mind, she softened. Then sagged. And pushed against me, seeking out more friction of my fingers rubbing over her but not sinking into her wetness yet.
“You can’t let me make you feel good?” I demanded.
