He doesn't move, just stands there watching me with that infuriating calm, his hands relaxed at his sides, his posture suggesting he has all the time in the world.
"We need to talk," he says, his accent thicker than usual.
"No." I shake my head, my hands curling into fists. "No, we don't. You've said everything you need to say. I'm your prisoner now. Your property. What else is there to discuss?"
"Aria." My name on his lips sounds like a warning and a plea all at once.
"Don't." The word cracks like a whip. "Don't you dare say my name like that. Like we're lovers having a disagreement instead of what we actually are."
"And what are we?" He takes a step closer, and I force myself not to retreat.
"You're my jailer." The words taste like ash. "And I'm the idiot who jumped into a storm-tossed ocean to save a man who's been lying to me from the beginning."
Something flashes across his face. Pain, maybe, or the ghost of guilt. But it's gone too quickly to be sure, buried beneath the mask he wears so well.
"I never lied to you."
"You kept us stranded!" The accusation bursts out of me, raw and desperate. "The watch had GPS. You could have called for rescue at any time, but you didn't. You kept us on that island for three weeks while I thought we might die there. While I pushed myself past exhaustion trying to keep us both alive. While I…" I trail off, unable to finish the sentence.
While I fell for you.
The unspoken words hang between us like smoke.
"Yes." His voice drops to something rough and honest. "I kept us stranded."
The admission steals what little air remains in my lungs. Part of me hoped he'd deny it, that I'd misunderstood somehow. But he just stands there confirming my worst fear with brutal honesty.
"Why?" My voice breaks on the word. "Why would you do that?"
He closes the distance between us in three strides, and suddenly, he's right there, close enough that I can feel the heat radiating from his body. His hand lifts to cup my jaw, and I should pull away, should maintain the distance that might protect what's left of my heart. But I'm frozen, caught in the gravity of his gaze.
"Because I wanted more time with you." His thumb brushes across my cheekbone with devastating gentleness. "More time in that space where I wasn't the Pakhan. Where someone looked at me and chose to save my life without expecting anything in return. Where I could be just Nikolai instead of everything else."
The confession cracks something open in my chest, but I force myself to hold firm. "That doesn't give you the right to make that choice for me. To risk my life for your fantasy."
"I know." His other hand finds my waist, pulling me closer despite my resistance. "I know it was selfish. Reckless. Wrong. But I'd do it again, Aria. I'd make the same choice every time."
"You're insane." But my hands have somehow found their way to his chest, my palms pressed against the solid warmth of him.
"Probably." His lips curve into something that might be a smile. "You make me insane. You've made me insane since the moment you looked at me on my yacht like I was just another obstacle in your way."
"I should hate you." The words come out weaker than I intend.
"You should." His forehead drops to rest against mine, and I feel his breath warm against my lips. "But you don't. Not completely. Not yet."
He's right, and I hate that he's right. I should despise him for the deception, for the control he's asserting over my life, for the casual way he's upended everything I've built. But my body remembers other things. The way his hands felt on my skin. The rough tenderness of his voice when he called me his. The solid warmth of him pressed against me in the darkness.
"I'll never forgive you for this deception," I say, my voice breaking on the last word.
Nikolai steps even closer, his presence overwhelming in the spacious room. His hand slides from my jaw to thread through my hair, tilting my face up to meet his gaze. Those ice-blue eyes hold mine with absolute certainty, with a conviction that makes my breath catch.
"You will," he says softly, and the words sound like both a promise and a threat.
22
NIKOLAI
"You will," I say softly, stepping closer until I can feel the heat radiating from her body The scent of her shampoo, something floral and clean, fills my senses, and I'm acutely aware of every inch of space between us. It's barely six inches now, close enough that I can see the pulse fluttering at the base of her throat, the slight tremor in her breath.
