Page 26 of Malevolent King

“I think we both saw last night that I could never be.”

“Wrong. Everyone has the killer instinct in the right circumstances. You slipped through my hands, distracted me, and got the upper hand, even if just for a second. Last night, you were impressive in more ways than one,” Nikolai said, threatening to turn the conversation back to the most embarrassing part of the night.

“Yet you’re still breathing.” I couldn’t drag my gaze from his.

In the light around the mirror, his eyes looked nearly silver. The cut in his neck from the screwdriver had opened and left a dried line of blood at some point. I’d done that. Even that turned my stomach.

He pulled my hair back from behind my ear, exposing the place where he’d cut out my father’s microchip.“You’re still bleeding.”

He reached for the first-aid kit on the counter. He had me pinned by his hips against the sink. I couldn’t move, even if I wanted to. I didn’t try. The casual ease in Nikolai’s possessive touch thrilled something dark and twisted inside me.

“Do you want to know why you didn’t act? You won’t like it,” he warned, spreading a pea of antibacterial cream on the tender skin behind my ear.

I held still, not sure what to make of his brutal tenderness.“Why?”

“Because you aren’t afraid for your life with me. Not really.” He snapped the lid back on the cream and pulled a small Band-Aid from the kit.

“You’re crazy. Of course, I am,” I responded, feeling called out and seen. I was, wasn’t I?

Maybe you’re more scared of going home and disappointing Antonio yet again?

Nikolai watched me carefully after he smoothed on the Band-Aid and brought my rapidly drying hair around to lie across my shoulders.“If you were, I’d be dead.”

“You were too strong for me. You could have taken the weapon from me at any time.” I dredged up an argument I hoped held weight. When in doubt, deflect. “Why didn’t you disarm me?”

“I guess I’m not afraid for my life with you either,lastochka.I guess I trust you.”

My mouth dropped open in shock and a strange, twisting kind of horror as I knew he was being serious.

“You shouldn’t,” I warned as he stepped back and reached into the shower to turn it back on.

I remembered the message I’d left in the dirt on the truck. My secret note…

Black guilt writhed in my chest, and anger followed.

Time might be running out for Nikolai, and he had no idea. I shouldn’t care. He’d dragged me through the woods, shot people, threatened them. I shouldn’t care at all.

He turned back to me and picked up the bloody rag of rope he’d used to tie my hands earlier. Thankfully, my long sleeves had protected most of my skin from getting too burned by it. He snapped it between his hands.

“Over here, by the shower rail,” he said shortly.

I stared at him.“I thought you trusted me.”

He let out a chuckle. “I trust you not to cut my throat in cold blood. I don’t trust you not to run away. Now, hold your hands together, and be a good girl, or I’ll take you into the shower with me.”

Unwillingly, I walked toward him. It was an old showerhead fixed over a rusty tub. A pole ran down one side and around the top, where the ratty shower curtain hung. He tied my hands in front of me and looped them over the pole. Thankfully, my towel didn’t budge. I’d rolled it and tucked it into the valley between my breasts as if my life depended on it.

He moved away and turned toward the shower, dropping his boxers in a fluid motion. I got an eyeful of his muscled, golden-skinned ass before blinking my eyes shut.

“What the hell?” I muttered, the shower curtain drawing back with a metallic ring.

As the water splashed, I risked opening my eyes. He was right there, at the other end of the bath. His head was under the running shower, and rivulets of gleaming water slipped down his impressive body. He was turned toward the wall, resting his hands on it, and for one long, uninterrupted moment, I was free to stare.

Then his eyes snapped to mine as he tilted his head toward me.

“Why are you making me watch you shower?” I demanded, but the heat in my voice had disappeared, sliding down inside me to pool between my legs.

I had to be a special kind of insane, because the sight of Nikolai Chernov, dripping wet, with a long, thick hard-on straining up his belly had me squirming and panting like the twenty-two-year-old virgin I was. I had no experience with this kind of thing. I was totally out of my depth.