Page 23 of Fight

And I never would, not in this lifetime, or even the next. The only thing I was fit for was the one thing I would not do, and even if I changed my mind, I could fuck my way to Kiev and back and still not have enough.

He lifted his hand and reached for my chin, holding it gently between his fingers.

Most days, I would shrink away from that kind of touch, flinch in expectation of what might come after it, but I didn’t this time, not with him. Instead I met his eyes and was rewarded with a soft smile, one that managed to soothe the frantic thoughts running through my head.

“Well, seems like we’ve found something we have in common,” he said.

I stood still for a moment, and then finally let out a weak smile. “So crime doesn’t pay?”

He barked out a quick chuckle. “Not that well,” he replied. Then his eyes flashed with something I couldn’t quite read. “It’s my responsibility, P. And I always live up to them.”

I thought I heard a promise in those words, but I couldn’t allow myself to believe that, knew that I had never been that lucky. “You have a plan,” I said, hoping beyond hope.

“Perhaps,” he said. “We’re leaving in half an hour.”

He turned then and walked in the direction of his bedroom, and I did my best not to stare, though it was quite difficult. I’d seldom seen someone move like him, power and grace in equal balance, and all of him calm.

That warmth sparked in my chest again, more sparked lower still, and I tried to ignore it, reminding myself, again, that there was no place for that here. That my life was hanging in the balance and was far more important than Ioan, how beautifully he moved.

How much I wanted him.

Get it together, P! I screamed in my head, and for once the admonition worked.

Instead of staring into the distance where Ioan had gone and thinking about what it would be like to join him, I was able to turn my thoughts to more pressing matters like how the fuck I was going to get six hundred thousand dollars.

My chest again constricted at the thought. That would take years, forever, but I couldn’t worry about that now.

Ioan said he had a plan. He’d tried to play it down, but from everything I’d seen of him, I somehow knew it was a very detailed one.

One I prayed would work, because he was my only chance.

My blood went icy in my veins as I considered that fact, cooling the ardor that had been there only moments ago instantly. So what if he had a plan?

That would only mean my debt was transferred from Markov to him. And as patient as Ioan seemed, I doubted he had any interest in giving me the next three hundred years to pay off the debt. Which meant I was slightly less fucked than I had been last night, but still completely fucked. My death wasn’t imminent, but the hole I stood in was now so much deeper.

I stood in the kitchen contemplating my new predicament, wondering if maybe I should take up diamond heists in my spare time. That was the only thing I could think of that might get me even a shot at making what I owed. Maybe I should talk to Ioan about this, try to convince him to work with me until I could figure this out.

But when he returned to the kitchen twenty-five minutes later, my thoughts scattered and then refocused on the desire that hit me full force when I looked at him.

I let my gaze cover every inch of him, starting from his perfectly polished loafers, then moving up his dark slacks, pausing on the tailored jacket that fit him to perfection, hugging his broad shoulders and massive chest and making his crisp white shirt look that much finer.

He even wore a tie, had his dark hair brushed back, the ends still wet from his shower, and if I didn’t know better, I could believe he was a businessman, a rich one, one who did deals and had martini lunches and a personal trainer. The only thing that ruined the illusion was the hint of danger that flowed around him.

Ioan had been kind, at least so far, but he wasn’t soft, and while he may have dressed like a banker, there was no doubt that he was as dangerous as anyone I’d ever met.

“You look amazing,” I said before I could stop myself. He smiled fleetingly, but didn’t speak, so I continued, trying to cover that previous exclamation. “I feel underdressed.”

And I was, my tattered jeans, flip-flops, and T-shirt looking even more shabby and worn when I stood next to him.

“You look fine,” he said.

“Liar,” I replied with a laugh. I shrugged. “But my ball gown is at the dry cleaners so this will have to do.”

Ioan laughed, but I could see the faint tension around his eyes. I didn’t ask him about it, and instead let him lead me to the car and settle inside. It was only the second time in my life that a man had escorted me to a car like that, and I decided I could get used to it, something that I had no business even considering.

Still, it was undeniably pleasant to have Ioan’s strong hand on my arm, to have him open the door for me like I was someone important and not just plain ole me.

I might have been crazy, but I also sensed something different in his touch than last night. It wasn’t quite tender, exactly, but his big, warm hand on my arm felt more possessive today, and that feeling sent a shiver up my spine.

I never wanted that, never wanted to be owned by anyone, by anything.

Not even a day with Ioan, and I was starting to change my mind.

He got in to the car and sat beside me. When he started to drive, I decided not to ask where we were going. I wasn’t in immediate danger, and it wasn’t like I could do anything about my predicament right now. If nothing else, last night had proved I could trust him.

To my shock, I realized that as much as I wanted him—and there was no denying that I wanted him—I trusted him even more.

So I stared out of the window, silent as he drove on.

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