Page 41 of The Pucking Wrong Man

“I saw you. At your performance the other night. I should be the one asking why you would want to be friends with someone like me.”

Her eyes widened, her lips opening again in shock, and now I was trying to keep my dick down because all I could think about is what it would be like to fuck that pretty mouth.

She was so fucking young. At least ten years younger than me I was pretty sure. I should feel like a dirty old man right now as I brushed her bare shoulder, pretending like there’d been something there just so I could touch her again.

But I didn’t, not at all.

Because I knew she was mine.

“You saw me?” she gasped, her gaze filling with suspicion and something that almost looked like...desperation?

“I’ve never seen something so beautiful in my whole fucking life,” I said, my voice sounding hoarse all of a sudden. I hoped she knew I wasn’t just talking about her dancing—I meant that she was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen in my life too.

She dipped her eyes down shyly...and I knew she’d gotten it.

Anastasia took a deep, shuddering breath before she caught my gaze again. And it seemed like a switch had completely flipped.

“Well, thank you. But I really need to get back to work,” she said, her voice flat as she tried to go around me.

What had just happened?

“Hey,” I said, touching her again gently. She stiffened at my touch this time, and I was even more confused. What invisible landmine had I accidentally stumbled over?

“Look. I don’t know who put you up to this,” she told me, her eyes searching our surroundings like she was expecting someone to be there watching with a camera or something. “But it’s not funny. Not only is it not funny...it’s cruel. You—you should be ashamed of yourself.” Her eyes grew shiny, like she was going to cry, and there was a quiver in her voice now that was breaking my fucking heart.

And there really wasn’t anything I could do at this point. It was impossible to explain to a normal human being that they’d done something to you. That one look at their face and you’d come undone—become obsessed. You couldn’t tell them that you now lived in the space between their breath and their heartbeats. I certainly couldn’t assure her that the last thing I ever wanted to do was to hurt her because I wanted to make her mine forever.

I backed away, putting my hands up in front of me. “I promise you, there’s no joke here. I happened to be passing by tonight and saw you through the window. But I didn’t come here to mess with you, or whatever got you so upset just now. It’s just…I saw a literal angel performing on that stage, and I couldn’t help but want to meet you properly. Since I didn’t do such a good job of that the other day.”

Her gaze bore into me, and I was a little afraid she might have some sort of superpower, able to see inside me and all the sins I was willing to commit to make her mine.

“I’m sorry,” she finally said, so softly that I could barely hear her just steps away. “But I’m not looking for any friends,” she finished, turning around and walking back toward the dining room like her life depended on it.

I watched her go, staring where she disappeared around the corner.

Well...shit.

Somehow, I’d fucked that up.

But instead of wallowing or getting pissed at myself, I let determination fill me, just like I did on the ice. I didn't let obstacles kill my shot.

And I certainly wasn't going to miss my shot with Anastasia.

I knew how to work hard...

And I could be infinitely patient. Whether it was practicing every day so that I was good enough to get a hockey scholarship for college, or studying hard so I could get straight A’s, or waiting years to finally be strong enough and smart enough to hurt my stepfather after what he’d done.

I had no problem with working hard. In fact, I relished it. I was quite sure that nothing in my life would compare to the reward it would be when I finally got her. When it came to Anastasia, I knew she was worth every bit of effort.

I was going to figure out exactly what my baby girl needed. She had demons and struggles, I could see that clearly.

But I was going to fucking fix all of it for her. She just didn’t know it yet.

CHAPTER 8

ANASTASIA

Madame Leclerc entered the room, gliding regally as she walked as if she was on a wheeled platform instead of her feet. She clapped her hands loudly once, even though she’d had our attention the second she’d come into the room. “I have incredible news. The Company has procured a new donor for the upcoming show.”

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