Page 9 of Embrace of the Russian Tiger

But my curiosity got the better of me. Slowly, I pushed the door open and peered inside.

And there he was.

Maxim.

He was shirtless, his muscular body gleaming with sweat as he lifted a set of weights, the muscles in his back rippling with every movement. His focus was intense, his jaw clenched in concentration. There was something mesmerizing about watching him like this—raw, powerful, and completely unaware of me standing there like an idiot, staring.

My mouth went dry as my eyes trailed down his broad shoulders, his defined abs, and the way his jeans hung low on his hips. He looked like something out of a fantasy, a man too dangerous for his own good but too appealing to ignore.

I should have left. I should have turned around and gone back to my room. But my feet wouldn’t move. Instead, I stepped into the room, my presence finally catching his attention.

Maxim glanced up, his dark eyes locking onto mine. For a moment, neither of us said anything. The tension between us crackled in the air like electricity, and I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, my body reacting in ways I didn’t understand.

“What are you doing here?” His voice was a low growl, cutting through the silence like a knife.

I swallowed, trying to ignore the heat rising in my cheeks. “I… I couldn’t sleep,” I admitted, forcing my voice to remain steady. “I just wanted to look around.”

He straightened, setting the weights down with a thud, his gaze never leaving mine. There was something predatory in the way he looked at me, like I was intruding on his territory.

“You shouldn’t be wandering late,” he said, his tone hard. “It’s dangerous.”

I crossed my arms, suddenly defensive. “Dangerous? Inside the house? I think I’ll be fine, thanks.”

Maxim’s eyes narrowed, and he took a step toward me. My breath hitched as he closed the distance between us, his presence overwhelming. He was so close I could feel the heat radiating off his body, his scent—clean, masculine, with a hint of something darker—filling my senses.

“You don’t know what’s dangerous and what’s not,” he said, his voice low and menacing. “You’re not in control here, Anna. I am.”

Something in me snapped at his words, at the way he spoke to me like I was some kind of child. “I’m not your prisoner, Maxim,” I shot back, lifting my chin defiantly. “I don’t need you to tell me where I can and cannot go.”

In a flash, he grabbed my wrist, pulling me closer until I was pressed against his chest. His grip was firm but not painful, his eyes burning with a mixture of anger and something else—something that made my pulse quicken.

“You agreed to our deal,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “That means you do belong to me, whether you like it or not.”

I stared up at him, my heart racing, my skin tingling from where his hand held mine. His words infuriated me, but there was something undeniable about the way my body reacted to him. I felt the heat pooling in my stomach, the strange pull that made it hard to think clearly.

“Let go of me,” I demanded, though my voice came out softer than I intended.

Maxim’s gaze flickered, his grip tightening for a moment before he abruptly let go, stepping back and running a hand through his damp hair. “Go back to your room, Anna. Now.”

I stood there for a moment, staring at him, trying to calm the wild thudding of my heart. Part of me wanted to keep pushinghim, to see just how far I could go. But the other part—the part that was smart enough to recognize the danger I was in—knew better.

I turned on my heel and left the gym without another word, my mind spinning, my body still humming with the strange tension that lingered between us.

When I reached my room, the door closed behind me with a soft click, and I leaned against it, trying to catch my breath. My entire body was still buzzing, still reacting to the heat that had passed between us.

I hated him. I hated the way he treated me, the way he thought he could control me. And yet…

My hand trembled as I ran it through my hair, trying to shake off the lingering effects of our confrontation. I was angry. I should have been terrified. But there was something else I couldn’t deny—a pull, a strange, unwanted attraction that I couldn’t ignore.

I paced the room, trying to clear my head, but all I could think about was him. His body, the way his skin glistened with sweat, the way he had looked at me, so intense, so predatory. It made my skin tingle, my blood heat in ways I didn’t understand.

In frustration, I kicked at the night table next to the bed, and that’s when the door opened and I saw a box perfectly placed, as if it had been waiting for me.

Frowning, I opened it, only to feel my face flush with embarrassment.

Inside was a collection of toys—sleek, expensive-looking, and designed for pleasure. My heart pounded in my chest as I stared at them, my mind flashing back to Maxim, to the way his hands had gripped me, the way my body had reacted to him.

I shouldn’t. I knew I shouldn’t. But the desire burning inside me was too strong, too overwhelming. I bit my lip, feeling the heat between my legs grow more intense as my thoughts driftedback to Maxim. His muscular frame, the way his eyes had darkened when he’d grabbed me, the power he exuded.

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