But then I turn my head to the side of the dresser. The act isn’t deliberate, but when I catch her reflection in the mirror, it’s impossible to look away.
Her fingers slowly grip the hem of her sweater, and then she pulls it up over her shoulders.
She’s wearing a black bra that reveals half the swell of her beasts. They look soft, her nipples straining against the lacy fabric as goosebumps scatter over her skin.
My grip on the dresser tightens.
The glass reflects every soft curve, tracing the line of her waist and the curve of her hips as she shrugs off her shorts.
Desire crashes through me in maddening waves. My breath itches and an ache settles deep in my chest. Every instinct I have screams at me to turn around, to close the distance between us and press her against the nearest wall until we’re both breathless.
Fucking God.
I need to get a grip on myself before I fucking lose it.
Just as quickly as the lust, a wave of bitter irritation ripples through my veins, warring against the heat of desire.
Forcing my jaw tight, my gaze locks onto the mirror for one final, desperate second before I tear my eyes away.
I hate the agonizing pull she has over my senses, but most of all, I hate the pathetic weakness that makes me want to give in to it.
Elena’s not someone I should be thinking of this way. She’s my prisoner, a problem that needs to be solved, and a possible enemy. For all I know, she could be here on a mission, and the last thing I want is to be thinking of all the positions I could put her in.
I need to remember that.
And I need to stay the fuck away from her.
My throat tightens, making it a little too hard for me to breathe. I can’t stay here any longer, not while I know she’s most likely completely naked behind me. But I can’t leave until I’m sure she’s okay.
It hasn’t been confirmed that she works for the enemy, so I can’t let her die on my watch.
But maybe all of that is an excuse to stay close to her even when I know I shouldn’t be. I’ve been with a lot of women, but none of them have ever made me feel like I’m about to lose my shit as much as she does.
Unable to bear the torture of my traitorous thoughts any longer, I walk out of the room in quick strides. Reaching mybedroom, I grab a cigar from the pack on my nightstand and light it up, then stroll out to the balcony connected to my room.
The cold night air hits my face, but it does nothing to calm the storm inside me.
Even as I exhale a ring of smoke into the open air, images of Elena’s half-naked body burn in the back of my mind.
This isn’t just lust.
It’s some twisted and sick obsession I need to put an end to. In the mafia, obsessions make men vulnerable, and vulnerability is a luxury I can’t afford.
I lean against the railing with one thought playing on a loop in my mind with terrifying clarity.
If anyone finds out about my desire for her, it would be my one-way ticket to hell.
Chapter Five
Elena
The heavy heat of the shower has turned the bathroom into a private, humid sanctuary. Thick white steam curls toward the ceiling and softens the hard edges of the tiles, clinging to my skin.
But the warmth does nothing to stop the sudden, icy spike of tension in my chest.
On the other side of the glass, the mirror is completely fogged over, but I can still catch a glimpse of Leonid’s steel gray eyes in it, watching me.
When he left the room minutes ago, I thought he was gone for good. But a few minutes later, he returned with a towel, toothbrush, and other bathroom supplies he thought I might need.
