Page 26 of Sacred Vow

His demeanor stiffens.

“Isolde, get out of the car.”

“No. I want to go home.” I reach for the car door to shut it. A rookie mistake.

He grabs my wrist and pulls me from the car, only pausing long enough for me to find my footing when I stumble. I jerk backwards, trying to free myself from his vise grip.

“I’m done fighting you.” With the agility of a supervillain, he spins around, lifts me from the ground, and throws me over his shoulder.

I scream, but it’s useless. We’re in his garage. No one in the building or the other parts of the garage can hear me. And even if they could, would anyone come running to question what Andrei Petrov is doing?

“Keep yelling. You’ll wear yourself out faster that way.” He jostles me on his shoulder until he gets the right hold, and then takes us to the elevators.

I wiggle, but he’s holding my legs too tight. If I throw myself forward, I might unbalance him, but I’d probably knock myself out when my head hit the concrete floor.

“Asshole!”

He steps into the elevator with me slung over his damn shoulder like a bag of oats.

A sharp smack to my ass jolts me.

“Did you just slap me?” I yell, throwing my fists into Andrei’s back. The mammoth of a man doesn’t react, he just holds me steady as the elevator begins its ascent.

A moment later, the doors slide open and the beige tiling of the elevator floor is replaced by the white marble flooring of Andrei’s foyer. I hear footsteps, mumbled greetings, but when I try to lift myself up to see who’s around, there’s no one there.

“Andrei, put me down. We’re inside now. Just put me down.” I smack at him again.

“Not yet.” He’s taking me upstairs.

I try to grab hold of the railing, of the wall, of anything that will slow him down.

Nothing works.

He just keeps climbing in silence.

I’m exhausting myself, trying to get out of his grip, and it’s all for nothing because after only a few more steps, we’re in a room. He kicks the door shut behind us.

“I’m going to put you down now, but only if you promise you won’t run.”

I roll my eyes. “I won’t.”

His shoulders drop with his sigh. “You’re infuriating.”

“And you’re worse.” It’s hard to think of a good comeback upside down.

As soon as my feet touch the floor, I lunge forward. Unfortunately, hanging over someone’s shoulder makes you a little lightheaded once you’re on your feet again, so I stumble right into his waiting arms.

His hands grab hold of my upper arms.

“Such a little liar,” he chastises, but he doesn’t sound disappointed. “Luckily, I know exactly how to deal with little liars.”

“I want you to remember something, Isolde.” He pulls me to the bedpost at the bottom of the king-sized bed center of the room. He drags my hands up over my head and pushes them against the harsh wood.

“I already remember you’re an asshole,” I mutter as he holds me in place with one hand and undoes his tie with the other.

“I want you to remember that you chose this. You went with door number two,” he continues as though I said nothing. He brings his tie to my wrists and pulls them off the post only long enough to wrap the tie around them several times and work a knot in between them. When he’s secured them, he pushes me against the post again and brings the last bit of the tie around the post and works it into the knot.

I tug.

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