And if I could stand up to a brute over and over, didn’t it mean I was getting stronger? Either that or Gavril was a secret softie under all that muscle and those frowns. Even when I made a run for it, he still bought me my favorite breakfast. It was becoming increasingly more difficult to be afraid of him.
I found I could speak my mind freely with him, even more so than with my family and friends, because he wasn’t scared of hurting my tender feelings by vociferously disagreeing with me like they were. And oh boy, did we disagree.
But it was fun watching movies with him almost every night. It was fascinating listening to his outlandish and very wrong opinions about all my favorites, and his choices were always terrible. When I told him in no uncertain terms that his movies were trash, he only laughed and tried to get me to see reason. The same as I tried to get him to actually read one of the books my movie selections were based on. I thought I was pretty close to wearing him down.
Best of all, even when we were arguing, he still seemed genuinely interested in my viewpoints. He never said anythinglike “Oh, Lilia, your head is in the clouds again. Time to come down to earth.”
Yes, I heard that well-meaning advice a thousand times, but Gavril didn’t seem to mind if my head was in the clouds.
If he weren’t my captor plotting against my family, I might have even considered him a friend. Maybe even more than that, because the kisses he continued to steal turned me to jelly, the feather-light touches when he walked by my side were intoxicating. The way he always tucked the blankets around me when he thought I had already fallen asleep was endearing.
The other night, we had a full-on make-out session before he was called away, certainly something to do with my family. I tried to be furious, but I couldn’t shake the feeling of electricity that coursed through me after he abruptly left.
No one had ever come close to making me feel so alive, like I was soaring, and about to fall, but didn’t care as long as I got more. Between my shy nature and overprotective family, I had only one single kiss under my belt to compare to Gavril’s. And there was no comparison.
Gavril was a man who knew exactly how to hold me, just when to swipe my lower lip with his tongue. Just how to touch me to evoke those tremors I couldn’t get enough of. The closest thing I could compare it to was being tipsy, full of confidence and certainty.
Gavril made me feel that way when his mouth was on mine, his hands on my hips, trailing up under my shirt.
Yeah, I thought about it way too much when I was left on my own during the day. Not even his vast library could distract me from drifting into daydreams where his hands resumed their journey over my skin.
Would I have continued if he hadn’t left and we made it upstairs to his bed together that night? Or would I have shriveled up on my side, as far as possible, like I had been doing? It wasn’t worth thinking about, but I couldn’t stop. Now that I had tried to show I was interested in repeating that night, he was being a total gentleman.
Yes, I had doubts that he was really a monster at all. And it was kind of irritating.
I kept trying to listen in on his phone calls when he was home, but so far hadn’t heard anything new regarding my family. I had no way to warn them or get a message out if I did, because when he was out, I was under heavy guard. They let me roam the house freely, but ever since I made a break for it, they weren’t so discreet anymore.
That morning, I sprang out of bed with too much pent-up energy after a night full of dreams about Gavril that always ended much too soon. I had peeked in on him working out in his well-equipped home gym a few times. Admiring how he maintained those amazing muscles made my heart beat faster than any run on a treadmill.
Now I decided to head to it and try to work off some of the odd desires that were only going to get me in worse trouble if I acted on them. Which I wouldn’t. And Gavril had proven himself to be the kind of man who might growl, but he’d never bite.
Irritating.
Not knowing where to start with all the free weights and machines, I found myself in front of the heavy bag I’d secretly watched him pummel until sweat glowed on his arms and back. It looked like a good way to take out my frustration.
I hit it tentatively a few times, then really let loose, rubbing my hand at the jolt of pain that shot up my arm.
“You’re doing it all wrong,” a gruff voice said from behind me.
I whirled around to see Gavril watching me with a slight smile on his face, tape and gloves in his hands. “Come on, I’ll show you how it’s done.”
He carefully helped me get the gloves on and then took my spindly arm in his hand and showed me the proper motion. When he let go, I punched the bag again.
He shook his head. “You have to mean it. Picture an enemy.” His grin lit up his handsome face. “Just not me.”
I wrinkled my nose at him, then hit the bag with all my might. He cheered. “That’s it. Keep going. Mess that fucker up.”
Right now, he didn’t seem like an enemy at all. Once I had a sheen of sweat on my brow, he suggested we move to the mat, where he offered to show me how to get out of certain holds.
“I’d rather learn how to flip someone,” I said eagerly, peeling off my gloves as I imaged hurling future foes over my shoulder, then stamping on their necks.
The next thing I knew, I was floating through the air to land gently on my back. Gavril loomed over me. “Like that?” he asked smugly.
I struggled to my feet. “Yes, exactly like that,” I told him, barely maintaining my dignity.
He showed me where to place my feet, how to lunge, the best place to go in with my knee, and where to move my hands. With a mighty grunt, I did everything he showed me and still couldn’t budge him.
And once again, I was flat on my back, staring up at his grinning face. “Did you notice what I did differently?”
