“What am I doing here?” I ask in return, crossing my arms over my chest to hide my trembling hands. Fuck, if I’m gonna die, at least it will be standing. Not on my knees, begging like that poor guy in the alley.
He pours himself a glass. Before his dark eyes come back to my face. His full lips lift, looking amused by my defiance. “You’re the one who called me, sweetheart.”
I lift my chin. “Because you told me to.”
He quirks an eyebrow, takes a sip of his drink, studying me over the rim of the glass. “They won’t stop. They know you saw something.”
Hew doesn’t need to elaborate on who he’s talking about.
“So what am I gonna do? Keep lying to the police?”
He sets down his glass and moves closer. Way too close.
I back until I hit a wall. “Are you… are you gonna kill me?”
He takes another step closer, and now I can see the long lashes fanning his dark eyes, feel the heat radiating from his massive body.
My heart hammers against my ribs. “Are you?”
“No, sweetheart.” His hand comes up to wrap around my throat, a thick, calloused thumb brushing across my skin. “I’m gonna marry you.”
2
Nikolai
I haven’t been able to get her out of my fucking head since that night. Three days. Three fucking days of waiting, having my men gather intel on Zara Thompson. Learning every fucking thing about my girl. Having her followed around. Jacking off to pictures of her, video reports. Fucking biding my time until I could finally have her. And now she’s here. In my fucking house. Alone with me. And my fiancée.
Life is fucking insane. For close to forty years, women have been nothing but a pleasurable pastime. A means of relief. See one, want her, get her, move on. No second thought. To the point, I thought I had escaped the infamous Maksimov fate. The myth that our hearts are our Achilles’ heels. That there always comes a woman to bring us to our knees.
If I wasn’t this far gone, all my energy focused on not scaring her even more than she already is after seeing me end Marcus, I might find this shit funny.
“M… marry me?” Zara’s voice comes out breathy, her fucking perfect body trembling.
“Yeah.” I keep my voice calm, conversational, fighting not to let her see how much she’s affecting me. How much she has from the first moment we met. “Marriage’s the only thing that’s gonna keep you breathing, sweetheart.”
Her full lips part, like she wants to protest, but no sound comes out. I want to bite into them. Make her moan and gasp with pleasure and surprise. Her pretty eyes widen with terror, darting around the room, looking for an escape. And I know I want to watch her face change with a million emotions. Put joy there, laughter, peace, ecstasy… Fuck, I need to get my hands on her real soon before I fucking explode.
“Spousal privilege,” I continue, before taking another slow sip of my drink in an effort to rein myself in. “A wife can’t be forced to testify against her husband.”
“Please, I won’t say anything,” Zara blurts out. “I swear I won’t tell anyone what I saw!”
I set down my glass and come closer, watching her press her soft curves harder against the wall. She stares up at me with tears filling her pretty eyes. Even crying, my girl is fucking beautiful. All gorgeous dark skin, high cheekbones, cute, round nose, sexy lips. And those full tits pushing against her cheap uniform shirt, that round ass, her thick thighs, the small waist I can span with my big hands… I let my eyes drop to her mouth, savoring the way her breath hitches. Taking in the full, soft lips that were made for wrapping around my cock. My woman’s built like a goddamn dream. All curves and softness, made for worshiping, fucking breeding.
“The police knows you saw something, and they’re not gonna stop until they get it out of you.”
“I won’t…”
I let out a humorless chuckle, and she flinches at the sound. “You’ll break.” I add in a hard voice. “When they threaten you with obstruction of justice, offer witness protection, promise to keep you safe from the big bad Maksimovs.”
Her breath is coming out in short, panicked gasps now, her chest rising and falling with each terrified intake. And fuck, my mind drifts again. I want to fill my hands with her perfect tits.
“I can move away, disappear…” she tries again.
I close the remaining distance between us, and she shrinks like a cornered animal. Her fear, strong enough that I can taste it in the air, making me want to lick it off her skin. “Where do you think you can go that I won’t find you?”
“I…”
I grab her chin, forcing her to look at me. Her skin is soft under my fingers, and I can see her pulse racing in the delicate hollow of her throat. “We have people everywhere in the world, baby. Law enforcement, governments, places you can’t even imagine. If you try to run,I will find you.” Images of what she’ll look like when I’m buried deep inside her perfect cunt flash through my mind, but I force myself to push through. We need to finish this conversation. “Here’s what’s gonna happen, sweetheart,” I continue in a growl. “You’re gonna become Mrs. Nikolai Maksimov, and in exchange, I’ll let you live.”
