Page 35 of Killer Love

“You’re welcome,” he whispers, pushing his alcohol-laced breath in my direction. “You know, you and I might make a pretty good team.”

I force a laugh. “Whatever you say, Gio.”

“I should come to Moscow sometime and help you investigate threats,” he says, his voice high-pitched with zeal. “We could put our brains together, compare notes, chase down the bad guys — or I should say, the badder guys. Is there a lot of running involved? Jumping over cars? Gun fights?”

“I don’t think you quite understand what I do, Gio…”

“Well, whatever it is, I’m in. Unless there’s heights. I don’t do heights.” He pauses with a far-off look in his eyes. “You ever have that dream, Luka? The one where you’re falling from the sky toward the ground?”

“Yeah.”

He shudders and wanders into his study. “I don’t do heights.”

Chapter 11

Sofia

It has been hours, but I can still feel Luka’s hands on me… and in me.

The bed feels warmer than usual. The pillows are thicker. The blanket hugs me with a comfort I don’t normally feel in this bed. Every nerve inside of me sings. I fight not to touch myself all over.

And the way he was looking at Lucian tonight? Like he’s the most perfect child who ever existed? It’s taking all my restraint not to seek Luka out and drop to my knees.

The bedroom door opens and I pretend to be asleep.

Gio stumbles through the dark and flicks on the lamp on his side of the bed, no doubt in an attempt to wake me. I keep my eyes closed and unmoving. The last thing in the world I want right now is for Gio to touch me — not after what I felt today. Not after Luka Lutrova made me feel so—

“Sofia.”

No. Please, no.

He shakes my shoulder. If I continue faking it now, he’ll surely know.

I let my eyes flutter open. His cheeks are red and puffy, the same way they always look once he’s thrown back a few drinks. The soft lamplight behind him halos his head, casting most of his face in shadows, but I can still make out his eyes. There’s only one thing he’s looking for when they’re as dark as they are now.

He pulls the blanket from me and kicks his shoes off. “Turn over,” he mutters.

No.

I wince as he reaches for his belt. All the warmth in me falls away, replaced with cold, hard dread.

“Now.”

He tugs his belt from his pant loops in one quick pull. The message is obvious. Do as he says, or he’ll use it on me and take what he came here for anyway.

I turn over slowly and he drops the belt onto the bed next to me, purposefully keeping it within reach. He grabs my hips and pulls me onto my hands and knees. I hold my breath as the sound of his zipper cuts through the silence.

“No,” I say.

The word slips from my mouth before I can even think to stop it.

Gio pauses. “No?” He leans over me. “Did you just say no?”

“I’m… I’m sorry,” I stutter. “I’m not feeling well tonight. You understand.”

“I understand that you’re my wife and that it is your duty to submit to me.”

“Please…”

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