He turns at the sound of my footsteps, and when he sees me, something shifts in his expression. Hunger. Relief. Possession.
His eyes move over me, taking in the clothes he chose, the way they fit. I see satisfaction there, like I've confirmed something he already knew. That fury roils in my gut, competing with the heat that blooms over my skin. He’s so fucking handsome. So goddamn arrogant and so beautiful in his arrogance, all sharp lines and icy eyes, utterly at home with himself and his decisions, utterly sure that I belong to him.
It’s making me wonder if maybe I do. If maybeI’mthe one that’s wrong for not giving in immediately to this. He’s so sure of it; how can I not be?
"You've been planning this." My voice comes out stronger than I expected, sharp with anger. "Bringing me here. You had clothes for me. How long has this been going on?"
He shrugs with one shoulder, not bothering to deny any of it. “Since a few days after you left Boston.”
I swallow hard, my throat tight. "You've been preparing to kidnap me for weeks."
“I’ve been preparing to make you mine. To protect you. To give you everything you deserve and more.” He sets down his glass and takes a step toward me. "You need to be somewhere safe.”
"You mean somewhere you can keep me prisoner."
"You're not a prisoner, Mara. You're here because it's the only place you're safe."
My anger flares hotter, briefly burning through the uncomfortable desire. "Safe from the danger you put me in! That man came after me because of you—because you couldn't leaveme alone, because you had to stalk me and claim me and make me a target."
"Yes." He doesn't flinch from the accusation. "That's true. This is my fault. But I will make it up to you…"
"And you knew it would happen. You knew someone might come after me, and you didn't warn me. Didn't give me a choice. You just let it happen so you could swoop in and save me and bring me here like you planned all along."
"No." His voice hardens. "I didn't plan for you to be attacked. I suspected Sergei might make a move, but I thought I had more time. I thought he'd approach me first. I was wrong."
"But you had this ready." I gesture at the apartment, at myself in the clothes he bought. "You were waiting for an excuse to bring me here."
“You were always going to come here. But I thought it would be later. That you wouldaskme to make you mine.” He moves closer, and I hold my ground. "If I could have prevented tonight, I would have. Seeing you in danger—" He stops, something almost pained flashing across his face. "I did not orchestrate this. I did not know the outcome. I was afraid for you tonight,kotenok, and I will not allow that to happen again…”
"You don't get to be afraid for me. You don't get to care about my safety when you're the reason I'm in danger."
"But I am, and I do" He's close enough that I can see the tension in his jaw. "You are not safe out there, Mara. I can protect you. You are not a prisoner, you are a…”
I meet his icy eyes, my stomach twisting with unfamiliar emotions. This man is obsessed, I can see it in his eyes. It’s as intoxicating as it is horrifying. "Then let me go."
His jaw clenches. "I can't."
"You mean you won't," I correct.
"I mean I can't." His voice drops. "Sergei knows about you now. He knows you matter to me. Even if I let you go, even ifI walked away and never contacted you again, you'd still be a target. The only way to keep you safe is to keep you close, to make it clear that anyone who touches you will face me."
"So I'm trapped. Trapped by your obsession, trapped by your enemies, trapped in this apartment." My voice rises. “You’ve ruined my life?—”
"You're protected," he insists.
"It's the same thing!"
Without meaning to, I’ve moved forward, into his space as he’s moved toward mine, like we’re being drawn together inexorably, just like we have been from the start. We're standing toe to toe now, both of us breathing hard, the anger and fear and adrenaline crackling between us like electricity.
"You've taken everything from me," I say, my voice shaking. "My privacy, my safety, my choices, my life. You've been watching me, controlling me, manipulating everything. And now you've brought me here and you expect me to what? Be grateful? Accept it? Fall into your arms because you've decided I'm yours? What gives you the right?" I'm shaking again, but not with fear. The fear has vanished, leaving only rage and this strange, crackling tension that feels as if it might snap at any moment. "What makes you think you can just take over my life like this?"
"Nothing gives me the right. I don't care about rights." His eyes are blazing now, that outward coolness cracking. "I care about you. I care that you're alive, that you're safe, that you're here with me where I can protect you. I don't care if it's wrong or if you hate me for it. I only care that you're breathing. That you are where I can see you, touch you…"
My breath catches in my lungs. "You're insane," I whisper, knowing I sound like a broken record, but there’s no other word I can think of for it. Nothing else except that simple description that fits him so perfectly. He’s insane… all of this is insane. HowIfeelright now, like my skin is on fire, aching for him to touch me even as I demand he let me leave, is insane.
A strange smile curves his lips. "Yes. I told you that already. I'm insane for you. I've tried to be rational about this, tried to approach it strategically, but I can't. Not with you."
He’s so close to me I could touch him. There’s a breath between our bodies, his warm scent filling my nostrils, his handsome face so close to mine. I’m shivering despite how hot I am all over, aching between my thighs, arching toward him…
