Page 48 of The Pakhan’s Accidental Bride

I back away from the door, my breath coming faster. The room suddenly feels smaller, the walls pressing in. I pace to the window, but it looks out over the compound's interior courtyard. Even if I could open it, even if I could climb out, where would I go? I'm surrounded by Emil's men.

I sink into one of the leather chairs and wrap my arms around myself. My body still aches pleasantly from our earlier activities, and that makes everything worse. How can I still feel the ghost of his touch when I've just seen what those hands can do?

Time passes. I don't know how much. It feels like hours but might only be minutes. But then I look out the window and realize I must have fallen asleep. The sky is that gunmetal gray of morning.

The sound of the door unlocking has me instantly on my feet, my heart leaping into my throat.

Emil walks in and closes the door behind him. He's cleaned up from yesterday. There's no blood on them now, no evidence of what he's done. He looks exactly as he did earlier, calm and controlled, his dark eyes fixed on me.

"What the hell was that?" I demand. My voice shakes but I don't care. "What the hell did I just see?"

"Business," Emil says simply. He leans back against the door, crossing his arms over his broad chest. The movement makes his shirt stretch across his shoulders, and I hate that I notice, hate that some traitorous part of me still responds to him.

"Business?" I repeat incredulously. "You beat a man bloody and call it business?"

"He owed me money." Emil's voice is flat, matter-of-fact. "People need to learn that there are consequences."

"So you break his nose?" My hands clench into fists at my sides. "You terrorize him?"

"I do what's necessary to maintain order." He pushes off the door and takes a step toward me. "This is my world, Kiera. This is what I do."

"Then I can't be part of it." The words burst out of me. "I can't be around someone so violent. I can't⁠—"

"Can't what?" Another step. His eyes have gone dark, intense. "Can't handle reality?"

"This isn't reality!" I back up as he advances. "This is insanity!"

"This is life." He keeps coming, stalking me across the room like a predator. "And you knew what I was when you climbed into my bed."

"I didn't know!" My back hits the desk and I have nowhere else to go. "I didn't really understand⁠—"

"Bullshit." He's right in front of me now, so close I can feel the heat radiating off his body. He plants his hands on the desk on either side of me, caging me in. "You knew exactly what I was. You just didn't want to think about it."

His face is inches from mine. I can see the flecks of gold in his dark eyes, can smell his cologne mixed with something darker, more primal. My body responds despite my anger, despite my fear, with heat pooling low in my belly.

"You didn't seem to have a problem with my violence when I was fucking you," he says, his voice dropping to a rough growl. "When I had you bent over, when I was making you scream my name. You liked it rough, didn't you, Kiera? You liked it when I held you down, when I took control."

"That's different," I whisper, but my voice lacks conviction.

"Is it?" His gaze drops to my mouth. "Violence is violence, sweetheart. Whether it's in the bedroom or the interrogation room."

"No." I shake my head, but I can't look away from him. "No, that's not the same thing at all."

"Isn't it?" He leans in closer, his lips almost brushing mine. "You want the Alpha male in bed but not out of it? You want me to dominate you, to take you, to make you submit, but you want me to be gentle with everyone else? That's not how this works."

"Emil—"

He kisses me, hard and demanding, his mouth claiming mine with the same ruthless intensity he brings to everything else. And God help me, for a second I kiss him back. My body melts into his, my lips parting, as my hands come up to grip his shirt.

Because he's right. Some dark, twisted part of me responds to this, to him, to the danger and the power and the raw masculinity that radiates off him like heat.

But then I remember. The blood. The man's cries. The empty look in Emil's eyes.

I shove at his chest. Hard.

He pulls back, just enough to look at me. His eyes are blazing now, all that careful control stripped away to reveal the predator beneath.

And I slap him.