I move before she can touch the handle. Not because I want to open her door like some fucking schoolboy with his prom date. But because I know Clara—know the way her mind works. Give her half a chance and she’ll either run or try to knee me in the balls again.
“Such a gentleman,” she drawls.
“Get in the car,dorogaya.”
“I’d rather walk.”
“It’s a two-day walk to civilization from here,krasotka. In my hoodie. With no shoes.” I let my gaze drag deliberately down her body. “Though watching you try might be entertaining.”
She grunts out a curse, low and seething, and I don’t hide the smirk that spreads across my face.
She’s fuming. Good.
I step closer, crowding into her space, until her back nearly hits the edge of the car door.
“Watch your head.” I push Clara forward, guiding her into the car with a hand on her back. It’s supposed to be a shove, but somewhere between my brain and my body, it turns into something too gentle.
My palm stays there for a beat too long, and I make sure her head doesn’t bump against the doorframe as she slides inside.
What the fuck am I doing?
I tug my hand away quickly, trying not to think about it.
She scrambles into the seat, the oversized sweatshirt—mysweatshirt—hiking up her thighs, revealing way too much bare skin. I pull the fabric back down, a possessive reflex I don’t have time to analyze. My eyes flick to Maksim, catching him glancing in the rearview mirror, brows lifted. I glare at him, daring him to say something.
“Eyes on the road,” I snap, sliding in beside Clara and slamming the door shut. He chuckles but turns back to the wheel, pulling us smoothly away from the compound. Clara shifts next to me, yanking at the hem of the sweatshirt like she’s trying to cover herself, her lips pressing into a stubborn line.
Adorable, even when she’s fuming.
“I can dress myself.” She bats my hands away.
“Clearly not, since you’re wearing my clothes.”
“You’re the one who—” She cuts off as I lean across her, reaching for the seatbelt. My chest brushes against hers, and her breath hitches. The sound goes straight to my groin.
I take my time with the belt, letting my knuckles graze her breast. Her teeth snap an inch from my ear.
“Try that again, and you’ll lose fingers.”
I pull back just enough to see her face.
“Making sure you don’t go flying through the windshield,dikaya koshka.”
Wildcat. Slowly, I let my gaze drop to her bare feet.
“Keep staring, and I’ll dig your eyeballs out with my thumbs.”
Maksim’s laughter breaks the silence. He meets my eyes in the rearview mirror, the bastard clearly enjoying himself.
“You know, boss, there’s a Four Seasons thirty minutes away. Just saying.”
Clara snaps her head around, glaring at Maksim. “Or I could just shove your face into the nearest wall,Joker,” she fires back.
He only laughs harder, clearly enjoying himself.
The road stretches on, lined with nothing but trees and land—myland. Clara shifts, restless, her fingers tightening around the seatbelt as she bites her lip. She stares out the window, taking in the expanse of property that belongs to me, every inch of it. No neighbors. No one to interfere. Just more and more land.
Her patience frays visibly when the scenery finally changes, turning into the sprawl of New Orleans. She taps her fingers against her thigh, bouncing one knee.
