Her eyes flashed to mine, then quickly travelled down me. Already, I felt like I was losing the plot. She came from a wealthy family, as wealthy as could be. Of course she knew my shoes and clothes cost more than a rental in a place like this would. Of course she knew I could’ve afforded a god damn hotel while I got the place done up.
I had to act. Now.
But before I could lead her to the god damn papers, her eyes narrowed, that clever mind of hers working overtime. “Viktor, I appreciate you helping me, but I really should call my family. They’ll be worried sick.”
“Phone’s dead,” I lied again, watching her like a hawk. “How about you give me some time to charge it, and then you can call them.”
She took a step backward toward the door. “I should just go. I can get a cab—”
“It’s the middle of the night.” I moved toward her. “And we’re pretty far from the city now.”
Fear flickered in her eyes again, but different this time. It wasn’t the blind panic from before, but the kind where evena Lebedev princess knew she might have fucked up. I could practically see her mind racing, connecting dots I’d hoped she wouldn’t so soon.
“Why the hell did you bring me here?” she demanded, her voice now shaking. “You could have asked where I lived, even if I didn’t offer it. I was having a god damn panic attack.”
“Beatrice, we can talk about this.” I tried to calm her because she was dangerously close to the fucking door. She took two more steps back.
I moved toward her, as slowly as I could, fully prepared to grab her if I needed to, but it’s like the woman read my mind.
She turned and pulled open the door. Bolted right in front of me, and all I could do was watch how surprisingly fast she ran in those ridiculous heels.
The girl had talent, no doubt.
I cursed under my breath and lunged after her, but she was quicker than I’d given her credit for. She was darting down the stairs before I could reach her.
I was right behind her, my longer legs working to my advantage. My driver stood alert by the car, but made no move to intercept her. He wouldn’t, unless I ordered, and Beatrice Lebedev was my god damn problem.
I caught her just in time, before she reached the sidewalk. I locked my arms around her waist from behind. She fought like a wild thing, using her elbows and nails and shoving that perfect ass against my groin as she tried to make me lose my balance.
“Let me GO!” she yelled as loudly as she could. I winced, praying the neighbors didn’t hear. Though, honestly, I chose this neighborhood because it was the kind where people minded their own business.
“Not happening, princess,” I growled into her ear, lifting her clear off the ground.
She kicked out, nearly catching me in the shin with one of those lethal heels. Furious at how easily I almost lost her, I hoisted her over my shoulder in a fireman’s carry.
“I said put me DOWN!” she screamed again, pounding her little fists against my back.
I led her straight back into the house, the curve of her ass right there in my face, sending a jolt of heat through me that had no place being there in this moment.
I gritted my teeth and reminded myself why I was doing this. I had to prove to the Lebedevs that I wasn’t a man to be crossed. Little did I expect their sister to be a weapon in her own right.
How the hell did I allow myself to let her climb under my skin in the span of a single night?
I cursed myself as I kicked the door shut behind me, making sure to lock it with my fingerprint this time. Now? She couldn’t escape.
Only then did I set her down, but I kept a firm grip on her wrist.
“Who the fuck are you?” she demanded through gritted teeth, the anger making her look even more beautiful.
“My name is Arko Pavlov,” I said gently. The color drained from her face.
“Pavlov?” she whispered, the fear crushing at her words.
“So you’ve heard of me?” I smiled.
She tried to pull herself free from my grip, but I held on tighter. “Listen now, little Bea. We’re done playing around,you hear? Your family humiliated me. Your brother married a woman who was meant to be mine. And tonight? You’re going to be my wife.”
“What?” she gasped, but I ignored her, pulling her toward the dining table where the marriage papers were already laid out, a pen placed neatly beside them.
