Page 24 of Savage Pakhan

“Tires look good. Let’s see if it starts. Please tell me the keys are inside?”

“They are. In the visor,” she explains, pointing for added direction as if I don’t know where the visor is.

I open the door with a hard tug, the hinges screeching loud with rust, and I wince. The sound is like nails on a chalk board. The seats are torn, the stuffing threatening to spill out. Dust covers the dash. A cobweb hangs from the rearview mirror.

There’s a small suitcase in the back. She really was preparing to leave.

Dropping into the driver’s seat, I snag the keys from the visor and send a silent prayer to whoever is listening that this engine will start.

“Come on, come on,” I beg, pressing the gas, feeding the engine the fuel it needs to start.

The engine whines, grinding, doing its best to rumble to life.

I’m surprised it’s working at all. I would think the engine would be dead sitting here this long.

“Is it going to start?” Mia asks, joining me by plopping down in the passenger seat, the tulle on her skirt taking up the entire space.

“It has to.” I try again and the exhaust grumbles and coughs smoke.

But then the engine roars to life.

Now, it just needs to get us to my safehouse.

Fingers crossed.

“Hey! Yes!” I slap the steering wheel in victory and Mia claps, screaming with excitement.

She throws herself across the middle console and wraps her arms around me in a tight hug. “Thank you, Alek. Thank you for getting me out.”

I return the embrace, burying my face in the crook of her neck. My hand slides up the middle of her back, her skin soft under the hard calloused fingertips that have strangled the necks of many men.

I breathe her in, inhaling as deep as I can. The lake didn’t wash away her perfume completely. It lingers on the base of her throat and my lips become needy for a taste.

I can’t.

It takes all of my control not to kiss her divine skin. So soft, so smooth, and flawless. If she were mine, I’d have a sculptor create statues of her so I can marvel at every line and curve her body has. She deserves to have immortality, to live forever in some way.

My men would never be able to get me out of the house again if Mia belonged to me.

She tightens her arms around me, her breath ghosting over the base of my neck. I close my eyes, marveling how close she is to me. My heart thumps wildly, pounding with hope, wanting nothing more than to lean back and meet her eyes with mine.

The silent question in my eyes to kiss her will be answered by a response glittering in hers.

I can’t kiss her in the dress that she was supposed to marry my son in. She’s so hard to deny when I finally have her so close. Chest to chest, her heart against mine, I know this is exactly where she needs to be—where she belongs.

Time stands still as we hold one another, unspoken wishes, dreams, and hopes are passed between us.

In another life maybe…

If things were different…

If she were supposed to marry me and not him…

If.

If always hold what we truly want, a fictional life outside our reality. It’s what keeps us hoping and that’s dangerous for a man like me.

It’s me who pulls away first. I have to. If I hold onto her any longer, I won’t be able to control myself. She deserves more than that. She leans away too, untangling her arms from around my neck. We stay close, continuing to look at one another in a way we shouldn’t.