Page 48 of Keeping Ruby

“I don’t believe that is true. You could have let me go free, but you made me marry you.”

“I made you marry me because you would not have been safe otherwise. As I explained, there are many who would tear you to shreds in the name of revenge.”

“Why do you care?”

His eyes sweep my face, and a muscle in his jaw tics. I wait. Finally, he responds, “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” I shake my head. “How can you not know?”

“The idea of someone hurting you sparks in me a craving for blood like I’ve never known it. While you were in the cellar, I was incapable of going even a day without visiting you. The urge to see you, to speak with you, was all-consuming. When your father was dealt with, and I was faced with the option of letting you go, or keeping you—” His jaw grinds, and he glares through the windshield. “The urge to be near you became the urge to keep you. Now, I’ll never let you go.”

“What about what I want?”

“Soon, what you want now won’t matter.”

I scoff. “Why is that?”

His eyes fix on mine, and my breath gets caught. “Because you’ll be in love with me.”

Twenty-One

Ruby

He calls the house tucked into the mountains, surrounded by snow-covered trees, a cabin. It’s like no cabin I’ve ever envisioned. It’s more like a remote mountain oasis. A retreat. A luxury condo for only the most wealthy of people.

He tells me the property is family owned, and that there are two more cabins not far from this one. Which is where the guards will stay for the duration of our vacation.

As for me, I feel both numb and overstimulated at the very same time. There’s no doubt, I’m in shock. In just a few months, I went from being a young woman with her whole life ahead of her—although suffering with the grief and loss of my mother—to a captive in a cellar, visited daily by a cruel man. Now, I’m the wife to that cruel man. And I’m finding, uncomfortably, that maybe he’s not quite as cruel as I thought.

“Would you like a tour?” His deep voice cuts into my thoughts. I tear my gaze from the rustic living room of stone and timber, with its high, peaked ceiling, and comfortable looking furniture, to the man who is dressed in dark jeans and a deep, dark burgundy sweater that clings to his bulging muscles.

He’s so handsome. Apart from when he sleeps, mostly naked, it’s the first time I’ve seen him in anything but a suit. I like it very much.

He feels less ominous dressed down like a normal person.

“Please.” Why does my voice sound raspy and breathy?

Taking my hand, Kirill leads me from the living room into the attached kitchen. The wooden ceiling is lower here, carrying the upper floor where he tells me there are two bedrooms. Black iron lights dangle over a modestly sized, granite-topped island counter with seating. Much of the cabinetry has been replaced with exposed shelves that, if I weren’t here with my kidnapper/husband, I have no doubt I’d be gushing over just how charming they are.

He leads me by the hand up a wide wooden staircase with chunky wood posts and black iron rails that tie gracefully into the kitchen’s rustic design. On the floor above, there is another living space, although it’s far smaller than the living room below.

Kirill gestures to a room directly off the living space. “The master suite is through there. I’ve had my service prepare the cabin, so the sheets are clean, and the kitchen is stocked.”

I offer him a small nod, but ask, “What’s down the hall?”

“The second bedroom, a bathroom, and a gym.”

I feel my brows climb. “A gym?”

He nods. “I come here when I’m stressed. When I need to unwind. Physical activity helps me do that.”

“Oh.” Is he stressed now?

Has he brought other women here to unwind with? I hate that the question pops into my mind at all. More, I hate that it’s burning on the tip of my tongue.

He’s watching me far too close for comfort, so to escape his gaze, I step away from him in the direction of the master bedroom. When I step into the room, I can’t help the sigh that escapes me. It’s beautiful in a deeply dark, richly rustic way. Everything is crafted in different tones of wood, complementing the scene wonderfully.

I finger the black and red plaid comforter. “This is quite the unexpected touch.”

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