Page 11 of Saint

“You want to know what I believe?” he asked, reaching beneath his jacket for something. “I believe you’re far craftier and more intelligent than I gave you credit for, and the first chance you get, you’ll try and bolt.”

She didn’t deny it. He was right. If he thought she wouldn’t try to escape, he wasn’t very bright. The first opportunity that presented itself, she was out of there. And she didn’t care how attractive Nik was or how he made her feel.

The most important thing she needed to remember was he was her enemy, and she had no intention of underestimating him like he had her.

When he moved his hand back in view, she tensed. He was holding a pair of handcuffs. Before she could respond, he moved faster than the panther she’d compared him to. In two lightning-fast moves, he snapped one cuff around her left wrist then locked the other around the brass headboard.

“Hey!” She yanked her arm then speared him with an angry glare. “You’re such an asshole!”

“You got that right, Goldilocks.”

A sliver of fear crept through her when he lowered himself beside her on the bed, so close she felt his leg brush against hers. There was no doubt she was at his mercy. He could easily do whatever he wanted to her.

“Please, don’t hurt me,” she said in a soft, pleading voice.

A muscle flexed in his cheek. “As long as you behave yourself, we won’t have a problem.”

“You won’t hurt me?”

Something flashed in his dark eyes. “No, Mia,” he said, his expression softening slightly. “I won’t hurt you. Not intentionally, anyway.”

She tried to relax, but his words weren’t exactly comforting. Maybe she’d misjudged him. Made the fatal mistake of underestimating him.Stupid girl,she scolded herself.

Now she was at the mercy of a man with eyes darker than midnight and, if she had to guess, a soul just as black.

Chapter Four

Mia had a streak of feistiness that Saint found attractive, enjoyable even. She didn’t refrain from telling him exactly how she felt. It was oddly refreshing. His gruff appearance was usually enough of a deterrent, keeping most people away from him completely. And the ones who occasionally got close, whether by his intentions or their own, didn’t dare push his buttons—and with good reason. He would fuck them up.

But Mia didn’t seem to fear him. She almost seemed drawn to his ink, scars and sarcastic streak. In fact, he’d caught her checking him out several different times. Which was fair. He’d certainly been returning the favor.

He glanced back over to find Mia lying on her right side, head propped on a pillow, her left wrist twisted awkwardly and securely cuffed to the bed frame. She’d been fighting to stay awake for the past half hour, but it was almost two in the morning, and her eyes finally drifted closed.

Saint remained in the straight back chair at the kitchen table, watching the rise and fall of her chest with every breath. Now that she was asleep, he could openly admire her without being caught. Not that he cared overly much but, at the same time, he didn’t want to seem like a creep.Why did she have to be so pretty?he wondered. And so innocent-looking?

Her hair was the color of sunshine, reaching right below her shoulders and had a slight wave. It framed a pert nose, full lips, rosy cheeks and long lashes. The fitted red dress probably wasn’t too comfortable to sleep in and he licked his lips when he considered the alternative. What sexy lingerie was she wearing beneath it?You’ll never know,he told himself.

He studied her small, bare feet and pink-polished toes. She was far too pretty and delicate-looking for a rough bastard like him. Honestly, he wouldn’t know what to do with a real lady. The women in his past had been slightly more…vigorous and rough around the edges.

Plus, she was way too young for his jaded ass. He didn’t know her exact age, but he was guessing early twenties. With a hand tucked beneath her chin, she sighed softly in her sleep. Her dreams probably consisted of shopping, traveling and eating at fancy restaurants with her big circle of friends. And even though they’d met at a singles mixer, he was willing to bet somewhere in that group there was a guy who had the hots for her. He probably showered her with gifts and promises. Whatever it took to get into her pants.

The idea of some asshole getting into Mia’s no doubt lacy panties pulled a growl from Saint’s throat. Giving his head a shake, he ran a hand through his cropped hair, trying to kill that image. But, it was immediately replaced by an even more tempting thought—maybe she wasn’t wearing panties.

“Fuck,” he hissed between clenched teeth. Clearly, he needed to get laid because he was fantasizing about his enemy’s daughter. Which, of course, made her his enemy, too.

He’d learned early on that women were treacherous creatures and he’d vowed to never fall in love. The very first woman in his life, his mother, had put him in a box and left himon the frozen, snow-covered orphanage steps when he was only a few hours old. If his own mother didn’t want him, why would anyone else?

No, love was out of the question. To be completely honest, he didn’t think he was capable of such a pure emotion. His heart had closed off and turned black when he was still just a boy trying to survive. The orphanage had been hell on earth and he ran away when he was only seven. Living on the streets had been hard, but at least there weren’t the constant beatings and inhumane punishments. Begging and stealing became a way of life. And he was good at it. So good it eventually got him off the streets when the Bratva embraced him.

Pushing those thoughts aside, Saint reached around and squeezed the back of his neck just as Mia’s eyes popped open. The color was truly stunning, unlike any he’d ever seen before. Looking into her eyes was like gazing up at the wide-open azure sky. He saw possibilities, something his life had lacked severely for a very, very long time. There was also clarity there, and a purity he wanted to explore more.

Nope. Not gonna happen.

Mia pushed up into a sitting position and tugged at the handcuff, rubbing her sleepy eyes. “I have to use the bathroom,” she murmured, cheeks turning red.

Saint popped up, cursing himself for being an even bigger bastard than usual. He hadn’t even considered letting her use the facilities before ruthlessly locking her to the bed. “Yeah, okay.”

He swiped the key off the table and walked over. After a quick turn, the cuff opened and she pulled her hand close to her body, rubbing her wrist. “Bathroom is there,” he told her,nodding to the door as she slid off the mattress, tugging her dress down.

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