“Well, then, that makes it all better,” I hiss sarcastically.
He sinks into me, pressing his hard chest against mine. I can feel every single one of his muscles taut and flexed.
He stares down at me, and I find myself holding my breath. His eyelashes are long, framing bright eyes. It feels like he’s trying to break into my soul and steal the few secrets I have left.
“What’s he like?” Leo murmurs. “Our son.”
Our son. That word is far more comforting than it should be. I’ve felt so alone for so long that the thought of someone wanting the same things I want is… well, it’s something. I bite my tongue and turn my head to the side so that I’m not looking into his hypnotic eyes anymore.
“He’s safe.”
“You’re insane if you truly believe that.”
“Anya will protect him. She owes me.”
“You need to stop thinking like Willow,” he hisses into my ear. “You need to start thinking as if you were Bratva. You need to think like Viktoria.”
“I am Bratva,” I remind him.
“No, you’re not. You’re trying to be, but you’re not. Because if you were, you’d know you can’t trust Anya for shit.”
I push at his chest, but it’s like trying to break through solid steel. “Tell me what you did to my parents,” I snap.
“If you’re not going to answer my questions, why should I answer yours?”
“Because you owe me, too.”
He smirks. “You really don’t get it, do you?”
He releases me all at once. Instead of moving, I lay there, cold from the lack of him. He’s on his side of the bed, leaning against a pillow with his hands behind his head and his eyes staring beyond the ceiling above.
When I think I can make it, I spring out of bed and run straight for the door. It doesn’t even strike me that it might be locked. Not until I twist the handle and find myself well and truly trapped.
“Are you serious?” I growl, twisting around to face him.
“What did you expect? You would have had freedom of the cabin if you’d just stayed put.”
“Open the door.”
“I could,” he says. “But Brit’s downstairs.”
“I can handle that bitch.”
He raises his eyebrows. “That’s your pride talking. You’re no match for her.”
I can’t deny it—that stings. No matter how true it is. All at once, I remember the scent I picked up on earlier: cherries and ivy.
He was with her before he came up here. It’s her scent that’s all over him.
“Who is she to you?”
I know I’ve asked the question before. But I need an answer before I go insane. An answer that’ll help me stop obsessing over their strange and mysterious relationship.
“She’s family,” he says.
We stare at each other, and I feel the chasm between us grow wider. I try and bury my love for him somewhere in that chasm, but it refuses to submerge.
“You’re really not letting me out of here, are you?”
“No, I’m not.”
“Fine,” I say. “Then the least you can do is give me the damn bed.”
He smiles. “Why? Having trouble keeping your hands off me?”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
“I’m not. You’re just easy to read.”
He sits up a little and my eyes fall instantly to the mountain range of his abs. He chuckles a little, letting me know that he knows exactly what’s caught my attention.
I move to the bed, grab the corner of the sheet, and rip it off him.
Leo doesn't move. Doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t seem bothered in the least that I stole his blanket, despite the fact that he’s lying there naked.
And hard. Completely fucking hard.
“Jesus,” I gasp.
“Something wrong?”
“You’re sick,” I say, pointing at him. “Fighting with me really does turn you on.”
“Hm,” he remarks, as though he hasn’t noticed. “Apparently it does.”
“Put some pants on.”
“I like sleeping naked.”
I roll my eyes and grit my teeth. He’s impossible.
Changing course, I drag the sheet over to the sofa in the corner of the room and settle myself on the cushions. I’ve just gotten nestled in when he looks over at me. The gleam in his eyes is impossible to mistake.
“You think it’s gonna be that easy to seduce me?” I snap.
“Yes.”
“You don’t affect me as much as you think you do.”
He smiles. “I’m in your head, Willow. You can’t deny that.”
“I don’t waste my time thinking about you,” I lie.
“Somehow, I don’t believe it.”
“Because it’s not what you want to believe.”
“No,” he says easily. “Because just before you woke up… you were crying out my name.”
14
LEO
The steady rapping on the door wakes me up. I roll out of bed and answer the door.
Ariel’s waiting on the other side. She raises her eyebrows as her gaze flickers down to my erection.
“Had a good morning, boss?” she asks. “Or was it a really good night?”
She tries to peek into the room, but I pull the door closed.
Willow is still sleeping. She tossed and turned for hours before she finally settled down in the early pre-dawn. I’m certain I’m partially to blame.
Ariel sighs, disappointed. “So protective. It’s cute.”
“You’re talking a lot,” I snap. “But you’re not really saying anything.”
“Right down to business, huh? I don’t even get a good morning?”
She’s managed to get a hold of herself since last night. She needed to get some things off her chest, and I needed to remind her of who she really is.
But that can’t last forever. She has a job to do. And being Brit and Ariel at the same time just takes too much out of her.
She can only choose one.
When I snap my fingers at her, she sighs and gives her report. “Anya’s getting closer to finding our location,” she explains. “Some of her men almost caught sight of me when I was heading into the village this morning.”
“Why were you in the village to begin with?” I demand.
“Because I had to make a call,” she says. “Belov may be in Russia, but he still keeps tabs on me.”
That annoys me, but I have no choice but to let it go. “You spoke to him?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I’m telling you now.”
“I meant before the fucking call, Ariel,” I snap. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”
“Because I didn’t really think about it.”
“Jesus. What’s the point of you being my spy?”
“I’ll tell you everything he told me,” she says. “He’s cutting his trip short by two days, which means I’ll have to leave a little earlier than planned.”
Now, I understand why her alter ego is back. She’s preparing herself, getting back into character for the asshole whose days are numbered.
“Okay. What else?”
“He got the mercenaries he wanted.”
I shake my head. “He actually went through with it. Crazy son of a bitch.”
“There was never any doubt.”
“How many?” I ask.
“A thousand.”
“Seriously?”
She shrugs. “He likes to be prepared.”
“A thousand men,” I repeat. “Do you have company names?”
“Nope. He wasn’t interested in giving me details.”
“Does he ever?”
“Sometimes,” she says, a little defensively. “He trusts me.”