Page 56 of Disguised as Love

“Let go,” I said, not even realizing I’d said it in Russian until he barked out, “Radi Boga, ostanovis’!”

I stilled. He’d told me to stop in perfect Russian. The accent so good you would have thought he lived here. I stared at him open-mouthed.

His eyes met mine, nostrils flaring as he realized his mistake. It caused him to loosen his hold, and I pushed him away as he said into the phone in a deep and guttural tone, “I’m safe. Wanted you to know, but I have to call you later.”

The woman laughed.

I ran. I was in my socks, boots left behind at the seat, but I fled across the rooftop to the far side where the candlelight dimmed even further and the breeze coming down the river from the gulf grew stronger. I shivered, the blanket left behind, my coat not holding up to the frigid air.

He was right on my heels. I should have known better than to think he’d leave me alone. I rounded on him as he approached.

“You speak Russian!” I said in my own language.

“Yes,” he responded in Russian as well.

“You’ve listened in on everything!”

“It’s to my advantage that the others don’t think I understand them,” he said softly, cornering me against the rail.

“It’s…it’s like cheating. Or lying. It’s…wrong!” I yelled.

He pushed into my space more, thighs on either side of me, arms caging me. It was times like these that I remembered how big he was. Two or three of me. A ladybug fighting a mountain.

“What are you really pissed at, little one? My knowing Russian, that a woman called, or the way your body responded to mine?”

This spiked my rage to a whole other level—the fact that he called me out on all of my emotions.

“You’ve used me. Repeatedly. And now you’ve lied. You said in your real life you never lied.” But even as I said it, I knew this wasn’t his real life, even if it was mine.

His jaw flexed. He was trying to rein in his own emotions.

“I haven’t lied to you.”

“I want you to leave. I’ll have Ilia increase my security. You need to go.”

He shook his head slightly. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I don’t want you here!”

“Too bad.”

I pushed at him again, and he easily grabbed my wrists, wrapping them both in one of his palms. The other went to my throat, completely surrounding it as he stroked the skin as if it was tantalizing. I stilled, the silky touch scorching me with a desire that left me breathless. How could I want him so badly when I knew the truth? It baffled my scientific mind that normally saw cause and effect clearly. It was as if some unknown ingredient had been added to the mix while I wasn’t looking.

“You’re fire and ice,” he growled. “I’ve never been so damn tempted by a woman in my life.”

He kissed me again, and it wasn’t gentle. It was brutal and punishing, as if it was my fault he was drawn to me. As if I’d done it on purpose when it was the last thing I wanted. He’d come into my carefully constructed world and torn it apart, first with the news about my father, then with kisses and sweet words, and now with the lust that filled me.

The click of a gun’s hammer had us both opening our eyes. Fear filled mine, but Cruz’s were completely furious.

“Hello, asshole,” Damien said from behind Cruz. The barrel of the gun was pushed against Cruz’s temple.

Cruz didn’t even hesitate. In one swift movement, he let go of me and twisted Damien’s wrist that held the gun painfully behind his back. The gun dropped, and Cruz kicked it away before pushing Damien into the rail next to me. Damien’s face was contorted with anger, but Cruz’s had become deadly calm. Cruz leaned in and snarled, “Didn’t your mother ever tell you it’s not nice to sneak up on people?”

I moved, tired of the third pissing contest of the day. I picked up the weapon that had been kicked away, shivering as the cold metal hit my palm, and directed it at the two men while trying not to let my hands shake.

“Didn’t anyone tell you barbarians that women aren’t turned on by guns and violence?”

Cruz didn’t move his eyes from Damien, but Damien’s darted to mine.

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