Page 6 of Sacred Vow

“I’m not going anywhere with him. I’ll stay right here.” She points to the floor.

“Sorry, you gotta go,” Viktor says with a thick Russian accent. He steps forward, gesturing for her to move toward the door.

“No.” She tries to dodge him, but he easily grabs her arm and hauls her over his shoulder. Before I can get to her, Andrei stands in my way, and she’s carried from the office. I can hear her hollering curses at Viktor.

Andrei turns and quietly shuts the door. While he’s occupied with that, I slip out of my shoe.

After locking the door, he turns around again, facing me. I’m two steps away, the heel of my shoe poised high in the air. Another step, and I drive my arm down.

The tip of my heel aimed right at his face.

“Dammit!”

I dodge her swing. She’s thrown off balance and falls into me. Before she can get onto her feet, I grab her wrist and wrangle it back until she cries out.

“You’re hurting me!” She finally drops the insanely high-heeled shoe before her wrist is damaged.

“I’m hurting you?” Still holding her wrist, I swing her around so her back is to the wall and walk her back to it. I shove her hand against the wall, over her head, then grab her other hand before she gets any grand ideas for that one and does the same.

Blazing caramel eyes meet mine when I have her fully pinned. Her cheeks are red, more from the exertion of her attack than anything else, I’m sure.

“You tried to stab me.” I say it slow, with awe and irritation at her bravery. If she was anyone else, she’d be dead by now.

But she’s not anyone else. She’s Isolde Madson.

My teeth grind as my jaw tightens just thinking her fucking name. I’d had little hope she’d actually leave town after our short meeting the other day, and it seems I was right. Here she is, right in front of me. In my own club, trying to maim me.

“I missed.” She tries to shove me away, but I’m not letting her go anywhere. Not until I have my answers. Then she’ll be on the first fucking flight out of Chicago. Which is where I should have put her when I found her at the bar.

I’d heard whispers of her back in town, wandering old neighborhood haunts. But I’d thought it a harmless visit that would last a few days before she’d go back home to the safety of Nebraska.

“Not the point.” I lower my gaze, traveling down the soft swell of her breasts, down the tight fucking dress to the slit in the side. My jaw tenses. She’s all grown up now, but still the brat I knew.

“What are you doing here, Isolde?” I bring my free hand to her jaw, pushing her head back against the wall, so she has to look up the length of her nose at me. This time I want an answer and I’m not letting her leave until I get it.

If hatred had a scent, Isolde would be covered in it. Her eyes darken as she stares up at me.

“I live here, Andrei,” she says finally. Her nostrils flare with her frustration at being pinned to the wall, but I’m not letting her roam the room freely until I know she doesn’t have any other weapons on her.

“No. You live in Lincoln, Nebraska.” The last I heard she was enrolled in a nursing program at the local university.

She rolls those pretty caramel eyes of hers. “I moved back six months ago.” There’s a snip to her tone.

“What are you doing here, Isolde?” I repeat my question. “Your mother assured me you both would be—”

“She died,” Isolde cuts me off. “Last year.”

I ease up on my hold around her wrists. She doesn’t miss the slight change in pressure, and yanks hard downward. She’s quick, but I’m faster. I get her pushed right back against the wall with little effort.

“Let me go,” she demands.

“Not yet.” I have the advantage of being taller and stronger. Her missing a shoe keeps her unbalanced, and that works for me, too.

A soft smile pulls at her lips and her forehead softens.

I manage to twist my hips just as her knee launches up toward my groin. She hits my leg instead.

“You’re not playing fair.” I spin her around, shoving her chest-first against the wall and pull her arms behind her. “Kicking a guy in the nuts is a cheap shot.” I press my mouth to her ear, inhaling the sweetness of her anger, her hatred.

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