The heat.
The way he had completely unraveled in my arms.
Sergei—the terrifying enforcer who could probably break a man in half without blinking—had turned into something entirely different beneath my hands. His control hadvanished, and for those few moments, he hadn’t looked dangerous at all. He had looked…needy. Almost submissive.
The realization struck me in the middle of the kiss, sharp and electric, and something in my brain had clicked the moment I understood what I was seeing. Sergei, the same man who could terrify a room simply by walking into it, had completely unraveled beneath my hands. The control he wore like armor had slipped the second I pushed back and took charge of the moment.
My fingers curled slightly into the sheets as I remembered the power of it. Of how that moment was the first time since he started stalking me that I hadn’t been afraid of him. That I had had the upper hand.
His hips had jerked helplessly against me when I tightened my grip on him, and his breath had hitched when I’d pulled him closer. He hadn’t been pretending about his feelings. He’d wanted me, and desperately too. So desperately, he hadn’t even had the chance to remove his clothes.
The sounds he’d made when he came echoed in my mind. Something so insignificant should have been forgotten, yet my brain recorded his needy moans and broken cries, which now played back in my mind with alarming accuracy.
At the end of it all, with his face buried in my neck and my heart beating out of my chest, I’d clung to the moment, afraid of it disappearing and our roles returning to what they usually were. Me, afraid of him and him being overbearing. So I’d asked him to stay with me, and he had, though the reason I’d told him was far from the truth.
Well, not quite. It was true I found it difficult to sleep with no one next to me.
But that hadn’t been the real reason.
I had been curious to see if Sergei would do what I asked. Would a man like him, so dangerous and disciplined, climbinto my bed with his underwear full of cum simply because I’d asked?
He had.
My gaze drifted over his sleeping form again. Last night, this cold-blooded killer looked at me like I held some kind of power over him. It was the first time since Brad’s death I’d felt anything outside of grief, pain, and hurt.
Slowly, I traced the outline of his huge pecs with my index finger. His breath hitched, and I knew the exact second he woke up. His heart skipped a beat beneath my touch, then sped up, the familiar rhythm doctors loved to hear, racing beneath my ear.
I do that to him.
I make his heart beat faster.
Tilting my head to search his face, I was jolted to find him staring back at me. His eyes were a beautiful, mossy green in the early morning, startling against the roughness of his face, like a lush meadow trapped behind his lashes. For a second,I forgot I was supposed to be using my newfound understanding to navigate our situation better.
“How’s your head?” Sergei asked, voice gravelly from sleep. With his already deep baritone, it sounded like a man coaxing you into his bed.
And it works.
“Fine. It feels a lot better.”
“What’s your name?” He stroked my bare leg that was thrown over him, and I lost my train of thought.
“You don’t remember?” He shifted to prop himself up on his elbow, his full face now coming into view.
“I remember. It’s Leo. You don’t need to ask the questions anymore.”
“Humor me. One last time.”
“Fine.”
We went through the questions, and I answered withouthesitation, which was damn impressive given the sparks spreading through my body from where his hand caressed me absentmindedly. He was way too comfortable with me half on top of him, as if we had done this before.
“I told you I’m fine,” I ended, staring at his shoulder boasting an eagle tattoo, at his stubbly chin—anywhere but at him.
He raised his hand and cupped my cheek, raising my head so I had no option but to look at him—at the way he frowned deeply with disapproval. “I am not sure whether I can believe you. You take care of patients yet neglect yourself.”
“What right do you have to criticize me? You have no idea what I’ve been through lately.”
“Yeah, I know. You lost your husband.” I stiffened at his tone, as though he barely refrained from asking, what was special about him anyway? “But you’re still alive.”
