"You stole my gun. You ran into the woods. You tried to ambush trained killers with no experience and no backup." He stops pacing, turning to face me. "You almost got us both killed."
"I didn't ask you to follow me," I manage, my voice hoarse.
"You didn't—" He laughs, but it’s cold and humorless. "You didn't ask me to follow you. Right. I should have just let you die out there."
I manage to shrug. "Maybe you should have."
His eyes flash, angry all over again. “What the fuck are you talking about? After all this… why the hell would you think?—”
"Why not? You were going to hand me over anyway. I heard you on the phone. Talking about me. Negotiating?—"
"You heard nothing," he snaps. "You heard half a conversation and jumped to conclusions."
"Then tell me! Tell me what you were really doing!"
"I was arranging an extraction! Getting us out of this fucking country before Iosef's entire organization comes down on our heads!" He's shouting now, his control finally breaking. "I was trying to save your life, and you repay me by running off to get yourself killed! You had absolutely no reason to think that I was doing anything other thanexactlywhat I said I was going to do, and?—"
"I have plenty of reason! You abandoned me before! And I don't need you to save me!"
Kazimir shakes his head like a dog shaking off water, his expression one of sheer astonishment at me. "Clearly! You were doing so well on your own! The wolves were just about to give you a nice warm hug! That’s all. You would have been just fucking fine if I hadn’t shown up, and not to mention those men who had you before. They would have just given you directions out of the forest, I’m sure."
I stand, ignoring the pain. "Fuck you."
"No, fuck you!" He takes two quick steps forward, close enough that he's in my face now, and I can feel the heat radiating off him. "You want to die so badly? Fine! But don't drag me down with you! I’ve put fucking everything on the line to save you?—”
“I didn’t ask you to!”
“No, but you blame me for the time I didn’t!”
We stand there, both breathing hard, Kazimir glaring at me with a righteous fury. “You’re spoiled,” he says in a low, harsh tone. “I get you’ve been through hell, but you’re still a spoiled girl, Svetlana Morozova. A princess who thinks she can do anything because no one’s ever told her otherwise, and who thinks the world will somehow work out for her despite it showing her very clearly that itwon’t. And based on how you’re talking to me right now, I don’t think you’ve learned your lesson.”
“Oh?” I toss my hair back, glaring at him. “And I suppose you’re going to be the one to teach it to me?”
“I should.” His jaw clenches, a muscle twitching there. “Any man who pulled that shit would be punished. You should be, too. You stole a gun, put us both in danger, and you might have compromised the only spot we have left to hide out until we can get out of here. Youdeserveto be taught a lesson,devochka.”
A sharp bark of a laugh bursts out of me, unbelieving. "Punishme? You wouldn't dare. You wouldn’t fucking dare."
His eyes narrow. "Wouldn't I?"
"No." I step closer, tilting my chin up. "You're too controlled. You won't even touch me when you want to. You won’t let yourself come near me if you think it’s going to push your boundaries. You slept in a chair to keep your distance from me. You think you're going to punish me?"
"Svetlana." It's a warning. I can hear it in his voice, clear as a bell.
"What are you going to do, Kazimir? Spank me?" I'm pushing him, and I know it, but I can’t stop myself. Some perverse part of me is itching for a fight, for him to prove to me that I’m right and he’s no better than anyone else. And I’m so fucking tired of himcalling me a goddamn princess. "Is that what you think I need? Some discipline?"
"Stop." His voice drops, a low growl now. I see that muscle in his jaw twitch again, and I smirk at him.
"Make me."
Something in him snaps. I see it happen—the moment his control fractures, the moment the careful restraint he's maintained since he pulled me out of that cell finally breaks.
He moves fast, his hand closing around my upper arm in a grip that's firm but not painful. Before I can process what's happening, he pivots and sits down hard on the couch, tugging me forward.
"Kazimir—" I feel a flash of fear as I realize that maybe, just maybe, I’ve taken this too far.
But underneath it, I feel something else—something I haven’t felt in so long I almost forgot it existed. A pulse of arousal, a dark, hot throb of anticipation of what might come next.
"You want to push me?" His voice is low, dangerous. "Find out what happens next,dorogoy.”
