Page 29 of Vienna Bargain

Alexander crossed his arms. “Done?”

“Done with what? You know how I feel about single-word sentences.”

“I do know.” Dropping his arms to his sides, Alexander stalked across the room like a predator inching closer to its prey. She couldn’t get the image of him as some large, deadly jungle cat out of her head. The closer he came, the more she tensed, waiting for the inevitable pounce. “Done stalling.”

Alena swallowed. “And if I am?”

“We begin.” Alexander’s gaze roamed over her face. She had no idea what her expression might be. Emotionally she was being tugged and stretched in half a dozen different directions, so much so that she couldn’t seem to settle on one feeling. Flipping from fear to anger to arousal to shame in rapid succession made her heart race and her cheeks heat.

Alexander straightened and began to undo the wrist buttons of his dress shirt. “On your knees.”

Alena shivered, and the swirling mess of emotions faded. She swung her legs onto the bed, then knelt, laying her hands palm down on her thighs, the very picture of a patient, and willing, submissive. “Yes, Sir.”

Chapter 7

“Spread your knees. I want to see your pussy.”

Without reservation, she obeyed.

Though he knew it was illogical, that pissed him off. He didn’t want her acting like they were in a club, like this was just another scene.

He wanted…

He didn’t know what he wanted.

The burning cold rage he’d felt when he caught her in her duplicity had faded, unsustainable in the face of the more mundane matters of an unplanned trip to Eastern Europe. He’d half hoped she’d try something—to escape, to turn one of his security team, probably Finn, against him. Instead she maintained the air of slightly amused detachment, as if this were merely an annoyance.

As he looked at her, he decided what he wanted.

He wanted her scared.

Wanted her to beg.

Wanted her back against the proverbial wall so she would finally tell him who the fuck she was, and what was going on.

The possible implication of what an unknown agent could do with the information she’d transferred had been plaguing him. Jakob had offered to question her for him back on the plane, while Alena had been in the bathroom. He doubted any of Zacharia’s employees would do anything illegal, but there were plenty of very uncomfortable things that could happen to a person without doing them physical harm, the least of which was isolation.

Imagining his beautiful Alena locked in a windowless room for days on end, until she was pleading for some human contact…the thought made him physically ill.

Because in that scenario he wasn’t the one in charge.

He rolled his shirtsleeves up and wondered how far he’d have to go, how hard he’d have to push her, in order to break through that haughty detachment.

How far was he willing to go?

She was his prisoner. By definition, that made everything he did to her a violation.

He’d never touched a woman who hadn’t enthusiastically consented.

Perhaps he would break before she did. Alexander reached out and gently pinched her chin, raising her face a fraction of an inch. What he saw in her eyes was a fierce intelligence. She’d played him, maneuvered him like a marionette on strings ever since they’d met. He had to assume she was manipulating him now. That by failing to resist, while also pointing out that she was unwilling, she was forcing him to violate his own moral code.

As he studied her, he became increasingly certain that her plan was passive compliance. Letting him, even inducing him, to hurt her, abuse her, in ways that would make him the villain. She knew he worried about his own depravity because he’d told her as much. He’d tried to walk away from her when he thought her too fragile to handle his sadistic tendencies.

And now she knelt, naked and compliant, in his private dungeon, while his lingering anger pushed him to hurt her, punish her.

If he let go, if he let his urges rule, he would do unforgivable things, and she would have the upper hand.

“I am not the villain,” he said quietly.

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