Page 65 of Ruthless Savage

“Because you should know what the girl is getting herself into.”

“I’m aware that he’s a feckin’ prick. I’m trying to do something about it. Not sure how much this will help, but I can use the video to attempt to convince her father.”

He nods, and within seconds, my phone vibrates. I check it to find an email with a link to a drive to download the video.

“I don’t even know how the hell you got my email, but thanks. Not sure why you’re helping me.”

“Not you. Her.” He slips his cell back into his pocket. “Consider it an olive branch for what my father did to her and her family.”

“You lost a brother too.”

His jaw clamps. “I did. And it’s not something I’ve forgotten. But I would’ve done the same as Patrick did. Probably worse.” He smirks, then his eyes turn hard. “Marry her.”

“What?” I let out a wry snicker. “You playin’ matchmaker now, Konstantin?”

“You just don’t see what’s right before your eyes.” His palm lands on my shoulder. “You, my friend, have yourself a good evening.”

He starts walking away.

“Wait, where is she?”

His mouth tips up. “If you want her, going to have to find her yourself this time.”

Then he disappears.

“Feckin’ Russians.”

CHAPTER 16

ERIU

The music pounds as I rush past bodies, needing to find Karen. I can’t believe the owner found me again.

Why is he fascinated with me?

My skin crawls. This was a mistake.

I have to leave, and I definitely have to delete that application he sent. I’ll find another way.

As soon as I step into another corridor, I run into a hard body.

As I glance up, I realize it’s him. The man who touched me. The one who gave me my very first orgasm. The one I can’t seem to forget.

I instantly want to run, feeling dirty at the thought of what I let him do. What I wanted him to do.

As he looks at me, that familiar feeling returns, and I can’t seem to shake it. I want to step closer toward him to look at his eyes, but it’s dark here and I can’t make out the eye color.

His lips jerk and he nods, as though in apology for banging into me.

“I’m sorry about that. It was my fault.” I laugh nervously. “I lost my friend again, the one who wouldn’t shut up last time, and I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

He doesn’t say anything, simply remains there staring at me.

Why are you still standing there? Leave! Before whatever happened last time happens again.

He holds out a hand, and I don’t know why, but I take it.

Why am I lying to myself? I do know why. I like how he makes me feel: like a woman who’s desired.

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