Page 17 of Sacred Vow

“I should take you back to Nebraska myself,” he whispers. “It would be safer for both of us.”

A second later, he releases me, as though my skin burns his hand.

Fire runs through me. What the fuck was I thinking kissing her? I drag my tongue over my lips, licking away any remaining taste of her. Not that it will wipe the memory out of my brain.

My cock won’t forget either.

I need a fucking drink.

No. An entire fucking bottle, but all I can find is an unopened bottle of Moscato wine on the kitchen counter.

I kissed Isolde Madson.

No. I’m not going down this road. It would be ruined before it began. Worse, she’s not safe here in Chicago.

I grab an empty glass from the cabinet and dig around the drawers until I find a bottle opener.

“Fuck.” I wince at the sweetness of the wine and plunk the glass back on the counter. Drinking nothing is better than suffering through that.

The shower turns on in the bathroom, and I stalk down the small hallway to be sure she’s not using it as some sort of cover. The bedroom window is closed, so is the bathroom door.

But I’m not taking chances.

I open the bathroom door until the mirror comes into view. Steam rises from the top of the shower, but then I see her. With her cellphone pressed against her ear, she’s pushed herself into the corner.

I push the bathroom door open with my foot, letting it swing until it hits the wall. She freezes. Slowly, she turns around, bringing her eyes up to mine.

“Thanks. Bye.” She hangs up the call then swipes her thumb across the screen before pressing it against her chest.

“Who was that?” I lean against the doorframe. The steam from the faux shower fills the space between us.

“No one.” She swallows, straightens her spine. “I need a shower. I want to wash off… well, you.” She tries to look disgusted, but I see through the lie. There are a few things in this room that are wet, and I’d bet everything I possess that her pussy is one of them.

“You came into the bathroom to talk to no one on your phone?” I fold my arms over my chest.

“I was just telling Marlena that you’re here. So, if she sees you when she gets home, not to accidentally shoot you. That’s all.” She shrugs.

“Hmm, and you needed to turn on the shower to cover your voice for that?” I move further into the bathroom, brushing past her in the narrow space between the toilet and the wall and reach into the shower to turn off the water.

“I wanted privacy.” Her fingers turn white, holding the phone so tightly.

“So, if I look at your recent calls, it will show Marlena as the last call?” I point to it.

“I’m not giving you my phone.” She turns her torso away from me, like that will keep me from getting what I want from her.

“So not Marlena then.” I lean my ass against the bathroom vanity. This place is too small. How does she not get claustrophobic in here?

“It’s none of your business. None of this is any of your business.”

“You came to me,” I remind her.

“I went to your club, not to you. I don’t need you, Andrei. And I sure as hell don’t want you.” She thrusts her chin forward. There’s a sharpness to her statement that makes my insides tense.

I shove off the countertop and push up against her, pressing my chest against her hands that are squeezing her phone so damn tight she might crack the case.

“You have no idea how untrue all of that is,” I say, keeping my tone in check. Her stubbornness, while cute at times, is starting to grate on my patience. Propping my forearm against the wall over her head, I lean into her.

She smells of coffee beans. Is that where she hid all day trying to avoid me? In a coffee shop?

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