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Last night, I had gone to bed with that same pet name echoing in my head. I dreamed of Sergei bending me over his knee again, one arm holding me firmly in place while his palm fell, painting my bottom bright red again. Then I dreamed of him holding me down and fucking me just as roughly. I woke tangled in the sheets, my body hot and restless and aching for a punishment I had no business wanting twice.
Despite everything, my body warmed again, and I tried to distract myself by playing on my phone.
Five minutes later, headlights swept across the wired-glass window set into the rear door.
I glanced toward it just as a black armored SUV pulled into the narrow service lane behind the armorer. Amy and Riley were still near the fitting rooms gathering our purchases while Sloane stood beside Kit, trying unsuccessfully to read whatever was happening on her tablet.
The rear door opened less than thirty seconds later.
Sergei stepped inside wearing a black coat over a charcoal suit. Two of his men remained outside near the SUV while another took position beside the door.
His gaze found me the moment he stepped inside. It moved over my face, my hands, my ribs beneath the new blazer, checking for injuries I didn’t have. Then his attention settled on the black velvet choker around my throat. I had put it on intentionally that morning. Sergei stopped in front of me. One broad finger touched the small silver ring at its center, barely enough pressure to move the velvet against my skin.
“You wore it,” he murmured.
“I like it.”
His green eyes darkened.
“I know you do.”
My pulse tripped over itself.
A few minutes later, after the others had gathered their bags and headed toward their own vehicles, Sergei opened the rear door of his SUV for me. A warm coffee waited in the cupholder, prepared exactly the way I liked it.
Not sweet, my ass.
“You’re not going to lecture me?” I asked when he sat beside me.
“You saw the threat and told Kit. You obeyed the plan.”
“I’m capable of learning.”
“I never believed otherwise.”
The answer took some of the pleasure out of the argument I had prepared.
He adjusted the heat toward my side of the car. “You did well, little pet. Very observant.”
I looked out the window before he saw how much I liked hearing that.
The driver had barely moved away from the curb when Sergei’s phone rang. He listened without speaking, then told the driver to take us to the Iron Wolf instead of the townhouse.
“What did they find?” I asked.
Sergei ended the call.
“A photograph.”
At the Iron Wolf, Kit placed it on the round table between us.
The image showed Sergei and me leaving Maxim’s estate the previous day. I was looking up at him, apparently in the middle of saying something. Sergei’s hand rested at the small of my back, and his attention was on me rather than the street.
The photograph had been folded once. On the back, beneath the faint crease, a set of instructions.
Deliver the girl alive. Make sure the Shield follows.
CHAPTER 11
