Page 21 of Savage Surrender

“Or desire.” He began to thread his fingers between mine. The reminder that he still held my hand—a privilege he’d helped himself to without asking me—prompted me to wrench it away. Yanking my hand back, I resisted the sensation of missing his touch.

“You’ve got no clue what you’re messing with,” I told him. I wanted to say it matter-of-factly, but I sounded too breathy and turned on to come off as a serious woman right now.

“You’ve got no cluewhoyou’re messing with,” I added.

In the back of my mind, though, I knew I was just bluffing. I wasn’t really protected. I had no backup to save me if Viktor actually intended to punish me for wasting his time or being disobedient.

I might have had guards assigned to me my whole life, but that was nothing more than a standard Igor Petrov extended to protect his assets. I was a spy, the only female member of the family who’d stand in for an operation. Because of that, Igor had confidently categorized me as an expendable, replaceable pawn.

Past that duty to be loyal and do as my father ordered, no one cared about me. No one would actually care about what happened to me—so long as I always did what I was told. Nota single person in the entire Petrov Family would wonder what happened to me. The guards out in the hall might worry for a moment because they’d look like they were slacking on the clock if something happened to me.

Beyond them, not a single soul would care if I was harmed. Or if I was manipulated and treated poorly. If I was subjected to whatever Viktor envisioned for my so-called punishment,

My younger brother would care. He was always the only one who would hope I was safe and all right. Maxim was all I had, but if something awful happened to me, I wouldn’t want him to have to suffer the gruesome facts of my being punished.

I lowered my gaze, swept away by this current of depression. The sobering thought that no one could care about me took me really low. I didn’t often let myself feel depressed, as if one could have that depth of control over me and my actions. Preferring to channel my negative thoughts and energy into anger was much better.

Forget it.

Just forget it, Irina.

Turning away from Viktor, I fought the longing to be facing him again. Over my shoulder, I tossed back one last insult. “This conversation is a waste of my time.”

I didn’t have a chance to slip away or leave with the last word. He lunged forward, shooting his hand at me until he grabbed hold of my wrist. He didn’t only reach out and snag my wrist, though. He pulled me back and spun me until my back slammed into the wall of a small alcove near the podium.

I let out a shocked exhale, the air punched out of me at his rough handling. He would be in so much trouble if word got out that he’d put his hands on me at all. Caged in, with my back against the cold wall, I held my breath with the certainty that he was leaning in to kiss me. Now, after every one of my twenty-three years, I could tip my chin up and prepare to be kissed. For the first time.

I’d never been kissed, never allowed to get close to a man to want to kiss him or let him kiss me.

“I mean it, Irina. Try me. Test me.”

I wanted to, so badly.

“Be a naughty girl for me and see what happens.”

It was too enticing to be given a free ticket to push this strong, sexy man. It was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and I dove in to take advantage. He couldn’t have any idea what his words were doing to me. I was melting, so turned on I could barely think straight. My nipples beaded under my sweater and bra. My panties clung to me, stickier with my arousal on the fabric.

“Try me and see what happens.” He paired those serious yet taunting words at me with another inch lost between us. He slanted toward me, intent on getting intimate and being so bold as to kiss me.

I lowered my lids, wanting to close my eyes just to fully savor the touch of his mouth on mine.

But it didn’t happen. Our sexy, flirty moment stopped the second my phone buzzed. This tone indicated a phone call coming in from one of the two people who ever did call me—Maxim asvideo calls so he could read my lips and use sign language when he was permitted use of his guard’s phone, and my father.

The screen showed nothing that I’d recognize, but this call had to matter. It seemed similar to the number for the old guard who supervised my younger brother.

“Hello?” I stepped back from Viktor, needing space away from him to just think.

The call ended, but a text message popped up just as quickly.

Attacks are happening near the building. Do not approach until the scene is clear.

Near Maxim’s building.

The guard must have sent it to me and my usual driver. Anyone being attacked near the filthy building Maxim lived in would always be terrible news. Awful news that I couldn’t do anything about.

Please, please be safe.I wasn’t sure how I’d move on if I lost Maxim or he was hurt. Again, I hated that he had to be a prisoner in that specific building, in that lousy part of town. Being reminded of the situation doused the flames of attraction and desire that had been growing here with Viktor.

“I…” I backpedaled from Viktor, not letting his expression of surprise and confusion get to me. I couldn’t. Not now. Not ever. He wasn’t supposed to be talking with a student like that. And definitely not a student like me.