Page 34 of The Russian's Bought Bride

Something cold slides through me immediately, and the real fear attempts to close around my neck.

“Let me go,” I repeat, trying to ignore how my voice wavers.

“Not until you calm down.”

“I am calm!”

“You’re not.”

I yank my arm back again, but this time, he moves faster than I expected.

Before I can react, he shifts, turning me just enough that my back hits the wall behind me. His other hand comes up to brace beside my shoulder, boxing me in without actually pinning me down, but it might as well be the same thing.

The sudden movement forces the air from my lungs regardless of the gentle impact, and my eyes widen.

He’s close now. Way too close.

The heat of him and his solid presence seeps into me as I strain to put as much distance between us as I can, but it’s useless. His body blocks out everything else, all the while my heart races in response to his proximity.

“Stop, Dani,” he says, his voice lower now with an unmistakable firmness. “You’re not thinking clearly.”

“I’m thinking perfectly clearly,” I mutter, regardless of how my skin prickles at the feeling of his words brushing against my skin. “You’re a criminal who kidnapped me, and now you won’t let me leave. What part of that is unclear?”

“I didn’t kidnap you.”

“‘Relocating me’ isn’t the defense you think it is.”

His jaw tightens, and it’s the only real indication that I’m getting on his nerves. “You were going to die. You would’ve if I hadn’t been there.”

“I wouldn’t know. I was unconscious while people were manhandling me,” I fire back, implication clear.

At that, Nikolai pauses like he’s registering it, then he huffs a quiet breath and refocuses. “I made sure nobody touched you.”

“Then how was I dressed out of the gown?”

“The nurses did it before you were brought here,” he admits, sounding entirely truthful. “Nobody else was allowed in the room. That was my condition.”

I hesitate as I digest his answer, unable to find even a flicker of dishonesty in it, but that doesn’t mean I want to concede. His being a decent person is the bare minimum.

“And now I’m trapped,” I mutter. “Who’s going to protect me from you?”

Nikolai’s eyes narrow at that, taking genuine offense. “Nobody needs to. I told you, you’re safe with me, regardless of how you see this. I got you out of there alive. I’m not going to hurt you now.”

“At what cost?”

The words hang between us, and for a second, neither of us moves.

His grip remains firm around my wrist, not hurting, but not letting go either. I can feel how easily he could keep me here if he wanted to, and I wouldn’t be strong enough to do anything about it.

That should terrify me, and it does, but there’s another layer to it. One I don’t want to acknowledge.

Despite the lies, the anger, and the fear, Nikolai hasn’t actually hurt me. Not once, and not when he had every chance to. Even now, with me fighting him, pushing and yelling like I’ve lost my mind, he’s careful. Regardless of his obvious strength, I can tell he’s holding back.

After a moment, he takes a breath and says, “You need to stay for your own safety. Nothing more.”

“I don’t care,” I whisper, though my voice betrays everything this moment is doing to me. “I don’t care about safety right now. I just want to grieve.” My throat threatens to close around my words again, but I force them out anyway. “I want to be alone, and to process what happened without all of this…”

Nikolai’s expression shifts slightly, and I catch a flicker of what looks like empathy there, but it’s gone almost as quickly as it appears.