Page 57 of Lethal Saint

She leaned her head sideways against the seat, exasperated. “You’re impossible.”

“Infatuated is the word you’re looking for.”

She laughed softly. Thirteen. “Nothing I say is going to stop you, is it?”

“Nope.”

Her eyelashes swept her cheeks when she smiled. “I like you, Damien. A lot.”

Fuck. I swallowed and said, “I like you too, Vasilisa. A lot.”

I couldn’t keep a smile off my face for the rest of the drive.

It was baffling as fuck that I got to keep her forever.

CHAPTER 20

VASILISA

Damien’s smiling face darkened when we got home after a night of flirting, laughter, and conversation, not to mention the best meal of my life—and honestly one of the scariest, most intimidating restaurants I’d ever seen. It was so beautiful and fancy and expensive that I felt out of place. I’d never been to a place like it. It wasn’t McDonald’s, that was for sure.

Damien glanced at his phone when we settled on the sofa with a glass of wine each and a rom com playing on the TV—his choice. My secret romantic of a husband. It was raining outside, wind battering the glass balcony doors, but I liked the ambience of it with us cosy inside.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, leaning into the arm he’d rested around my back, my wine untouched for now. I’d save it for later when I needed extra bravery to touch Damien. Because I really, really wanted to touch him. His soft groans and deep, growling breaths had played in my head all day, reminding me of lastnight. And that was my first time, with all the discomfort and spikes of pain that came with it—how much better would sex feel the more we had?

I was greedy to find out.

“Nothing that can’t wait. Jonathan will take care of it,” he replied, brushing a kiss over my temple and making me melt.

“But you’re angry,” I murmured, my attention on him rather than the movie.

“I’m not a fan of things going against my plans,” he said, glancing down at me, his face exceptionally close.

“Because you’re a control freak.”

His mouth opened, eyes bright with surprise.

“Your words, not mine,” I hurriedly added, nerves coiling through my belly until Damien laughed.

“Yeah, Vasilisa, because I’m a control freak. But I’d much rather be here with my wife than hunting.”

A different sort of tremble went through my belly. “Hunting?”

He made a confirmatory sound, stroking my arm with the tips of his fingers. “Someone decided my accommodations weren’t to their liking, so they left,” he said with a little smile on his face. “But you don’t need to worry about it, Vasya.”

Tinder caught fire in my belly and burned. “How do you hunt someone?”

He glanced at me, pausing at whatever he found in my expression. “It’s not exciting. We have a network who work for the family, and there’s no one we can’t find with enough time and resources. A lot of it relies on our tech guys scouring cameras and phone history, tracking locations, that kind of thing.”

He was right. That wasn’t exciting.

Damien laughed, turning to face me, fingers trailing down my arm to intertwine with mine. He brought my hand to hislips, feathering a kiss over my ring finger. “Were you hoping for something more glamourous?” He peered at me. “Or more gruesome?”

Did I dare admit it? My heart quickened but I nodded.

“Mm, I forgot. My wife is drawn to violence. Does it make your pulse race?” He kissed the inside of my wrist next, beginning a path up the sensitive skin of my forearm.

“Yes,” I breathed, desire burning so fast and deep that I bit my lip. “But only when it’s you.”

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