Page 67 of Violent Pawn

“You say that now.”

“I’ll say it always.”

Her frown is still hesitant, but I’m not sure if there’s anything more to say tonight that’ll erase it, or if it’s something she’ll need to come to terms with. To build trust so she gives me hers in return.

“I should go.” She starts to slide her hands away while nudging the pillow off her lap, but I lift to my feet and block her with my body.

“Can you do one thing for me? Something that’ll prove I’m worthy of your trust.”

“What?” She mouths it more than whispers it.

“Spend the night with me. Here.” My hand reaches for her, tucking strands of her hair behind her ear. “Only to sleep. After today, I don’t want you to be alone, and I’d like the opportunity to prove I’m not the kind of man who’ll attack you in your sleep.”

Eyes on my hand, she doesn’t shy away, which I take as a win. “We’ve slept in the same bed twice, so I know that already.”

“It’s different. We’ve communicated. Now, we should put it all in practice.” Backing away, I work at my tie before tossing it onto the floor, and then start unbuttoning my shirt. “I’ll get you something to wear.”

As I walk away, she calls out, “I didn’t agree to this.”

Pulling on behaviours that brought us together before today and hoping it’ll ease her anxiety, I toss a wink over my shoulder. “But you will.”

After a few seconds, steps trail me. With my back to her, my grin remains hidden. She reaches the closet by the time I’ve chosen a black tee for her and snatches it without meeting my eyes. She rushes into the bathroom as if fire licks at her heels.

When she returns, her earlier panic over my comment no longer means anything. Her being dressed in my shirt sends the same message. She may not want to be mine, but tonight, something shifted between us, and wearing my shirt seals that.

Anastasia Petrov will be mine, whether she wants to be or not.

I just can’t tell her that.

33

ANASTASIA

Nero’s still asleep when I wake the next morning. His body is pressed against my back, an arm slung around my hip, the weight pulling me deeper into the soft mattress.

So much for an innocent sleep.

I should wiggle out from beneath him and escape before the others wake and notice I hadn’t slept in my bed. Knowing Vanessa, she’ll make assumptions, and they’d be wrong.

I inch forward, using my hips to help propel me across the bed when I feel him—it. His morning erection presses against my back. I’m frozen like an inexperienced teenager, trying to work through how to get free without drawing more attention to his hard length. He groans and tightens his arm around my hip.

“You keep moving,” he rumbles in my ear, sounding very much awake to my sheer despair, “and we’ll have a bigger problem.”

“Doesn’t feel that big to me,” I can’t help but remark, grinning into the darkness because it’s an utter lie.

His chest vibrates against my back with laughter. “Fuck, I’ve missed you, Petrov. Glad you’re back.”

I roll into his arm, testing his strength and how easy getting away will be, when his fingers curl and dig into the space between my ribs and my hips, and he makes another noise. “Don’t go. Not yet. You’re so warm and pleasant to wake up with.”

“Nero.” It’s a little desperate, a little gasp. “The others⁠—”

“Fuck them. All I’m asking is to stay and rest a bit longer. And to be good and stop fuckin’ moving or every promise I made myself last night won’t last.”

“Maybe I don’t know how to be good.”

He thinks about it, though, as the room falls silent for a few beats. An almost-offer—a tease at the very least.

“What were your promises?” I ask, moving off the topic that could veer us into a dangerous direction.