Page 64 of Dancing With Distraction

My words die on my tongue as his large hands cup my cheeks right before he kisses me. It’s toe-curling, and for a second, I forget why I’m supposed to be mad. When he breaks the kiss, he stares into my eyes. “Ronnie broke Vivian’s ribs. I took her to the hospital to get checked.”

I give my clouded head a shake and take a step back. “Don’t you have people for that?”

“I wasn’t thinking. It’s been a crazy night. I left her there to come straight to you.”

I glance back at Phoebe, who’s watching us with a smile on her lips. “Thanks for tonight,” I say, going over and giving her a hug. “We’ll arrange for next week, okay.” She gives a nod, hugging me back.

I breeze past Dmitry, not bothering to look at him as I head out. I know he’ll follow.

Marshall is waiting by the car, and as I approach, he opens the door with a smirk on his face. “Shit hiding place,” he whispers.

“Fuck you,” I whisper back, slumping into my seat and crossing my arms over my chest.

Dmitry slides in beside me with a wary expression. I stare out the window and wait for Marshall to drive before loosening the belt on my coat. I cross my legs, causing it to fall away slightly, revealing the green lace at the top of my stockings. I feel him twist in his seat and then he pulls the coat open, scanning my half-dressed body. “You left the house like this?” he hisses, covering me back up and tying the belt extra tight.

“For you, Dmitry,” I say, staring back out the window. “I dressed like this for you. Only you were too busy with your ex.”

“I told you already?—”

“No, Dmitry, you gave me some bullshit about her ribs. What I don’t understand is why that was your problem,” I snap.

“And what I don’t understand is why you left the apartment tonight,” he counters, now sounding equally as pissed.

“I didn’t realise I was a prisoner.”

“You’re safe in the apartment, Victoria. You left without any of my men.”

I scoff. “Oh, don’t worry, I found your man soon enough. I didn’t expect him to be leaning over a dead body,” I spit. “Did you do that for her?”

“That was . . . unfortunate,” Dmitry admits. “Something you shouldn’t have been exposed to.”

“I can only apologise again, sir,” Marshall butts in.

I scowl at him through his rear-view mirror. “Suck-up,” I say, and he winks at me.

He stops at the gates to the manor, waiting while they slowly open. “Why are we here?” I demand.

I don’t get an answer, and as the car slows outside the property, I jump out and slam the door. I don’t need these fuckers opening the door for me, pretending like they’re gentlemen.

Dmitry gets out, and Marshall drives away. “Does he need to get back to the dead body?” I ask sarcastically.

Dmitry passes me, heading up the steps. “We can talk like adults, my krasota, or we can fuck like animals. I don’t mind which we do first.”

I march after him, and when he opens the door, I push past him and go inside. I rip my coat off and throw it on the floor. “I feel like a fucking idiot,” I scream. “I wanted to surprise you and then I saw you leaving with her.”

“I couldn’t risk her hanging around the bar,” he says calmly. He reaches for me, but I step back. “I had to get her away from there before she discovered her father on my office floor,” he grits out, his patience now thinning.

“Why did you do that?” I demand, placing my hands on my hips.

His eyes run over my body, filling with heat. “It’s business.”

“So, you murder people for business?”

He closes the gap between us, moving swiftly like a lion and taking my wrists in his hands. He holds them behind my back so my body is pressed against his. “We could have avoided all this drama,” he murmurs against my ear, “if you’d have just confronted me in the bar, my krasota.”

“And embarrass myself having her being a smug bitch?”

“Tell me what to do to make it right,” he whispers against my neck.

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