“Did you?” He stepped even closer, our faces inches apart. “Because from where I’m standing, you’re being reckless…again.”
“Am not,” I said. “I’m just getting some air, cooling down a little.”
He stared at me, clearly not believing a word I was saying.
“Let. Go.” I twisted in his grip, my wet skin making it hard for him to hold on.
We struggled, a dangerous dance of push and pull. My foot slipped on the wet tiles. I lost my balance. And insteadof letting me go, we went backward together, splashing, right back into the pool.
The shock of him on top of me, pushing me underwater, made me gasp—and immediately aspirate.
Ivan’s arms were still around me as we surfaced. I coughed, and he just stared at me. His white T-shirt clung to his chest, revealing every muscle. Water dripped from his dark hair onto his face.
“Satisfied?” I asked when I finally stopped sputtering, very aware of how his hands had shifted to my waist. But he was still holding me against him. “Now we’re both wet.”
His eyes blazed with fury…and something else. Something that made my pulse race faster than our fall into the pool had.
“Shit, I completely forgot your head wound.” His fingers brushed over my temple, checking the bandage. “You got it wet.”
“Actually,” I said, treading water while he held me, “I kept my head above water the whole time. Until someone decided to tackle me back in. So technically, this is your fault. You got it wet.”
A low growl rumbled in his chest. But instead of snapping back, he shifted his grip, one arm wrapping more securely around my waist while his other hand carefully examined the bandage covering the butterfly bandage. “Stay still.”
The gentleness in his touch contrasted sharply with his fierce expression. My skin tingled where his fingers traced the edge of the bandage, before he carefully peeled it off. He was so close, I could see water droplets clinging to his eyelashes.
“It’s definitely wet, but otherwise, it seems fine,” he muttered but didn’t release me. His arm kept me effortlessly afloat, strong and steady against the small of my back.
The air between us shifted, charged with something beyond the usual. His protectiveness and the way he cared about me shouldn’t affect me like this. He was the enemy. A dangerous, complicated man who’d kidnapped me and my sister.
But in that moment, with his arms around me and concern in his eyes, I couldn’t maintain my defensive walls. Before I could overthink it, I wrapped my arms around his neck and hugged him.
He stiffened, clearly caught off guard.
“What do you think you’re doing?” his voice was a rough whisper against my wet hair.
I tightened my arms around his neck, acutely aware of my nakedness pressed against his soaked clothes. Wasn’t that the question of the day? What the hell was I doing, clinging to my kidnapper like a wet puppy afraid to drown? “Holding on for dear life. You wouldn’t want me to drown, would you?”
His chest rose and fell against mine in a heavy sigh before he tightened his arm around me. For a moment, neither of us moved—just two bodies suspended in cool water under the moonlight, locked in an embrace that made no sense given where we were and who we were to each other.
I should let go. Should push away and get the hell out of this pool and out of this situation. Should remember he was my captor, not my protector, and not hug him.
But I didn’t.
And then he pressed his lips against my forehead, right next to the wound. Soft. Tender. The kind of kiss that wasn’t meant to lead anywhere—just giving pure comfort.
But as his lips lingered there, warm against my cool skin, something inside me unraveled. “Why are you being so nice to me?” I whispered, hating how vulnerable I sounded.
He didn’t answer. Just held his lips against my skin like he was trying to heal the wound through sheer will.
I closed my eyes, conflicted by the storm of emotions raging inside me. I should hate this man. He’d kidnapped me, separated me from my family, was using me as leverage against my brother. Yet here I was, melting into his touch, craving more of his protectiveness, more of this gentleness I hadn’t expected from him.
My body betrayed me as I relaxed against his strength, molded myself against him like we were made to hold each other this way. It was madness.
Pure madness.
Or just basic animal attraction to a dangerous, compelling man who again and again showed glimpses of so much more beneath his cold exterior and despite his reputation.
I turned my face up, ready to kiss him, when he stiffened. He pulled away, and he loosened his arms and his hold.
