Page 25 of Claimed Bratva Virgin

Time was ticking, and that meant I had to coax her real agenda for this meeting out of her before my control slipped, and I ended up doing something we’d both regret.

When she piped up, I noticed a significant detail that wasn’t there before: the constant twitch of her brows like an appearing and disappearing frown and the shift in her eyes, both telltale signs of anxiety.

Avoiding my eyes, Leonora fingered the glinting rose gold infinity-set knuckle rings on her fingers, and I knew I was right. She was anxious but usually quiet.

My theory might have been spot on, after all. She’d organized this charade to dig her claws into me and commit murder and was now growing cold feet, trying to back out.

“Yes, please. I could use a drink.”

Or not.

Surreptitiously, I filled a glass and handed it to her, ignoring a strange zap that traveled like bolts when our fingertips brushed. For months, I hadn’t touched a woman, and venturing into celibacy wasn’t by choice. There was always something to take care of, something more important than chasing skirts.

Leonora was sipping slowly, calculatedly, and the suspense got me in a chokehold.

“So,” I started to say and gestured to the table. “This.”

“This,” she reechoed with that phony smile and returned her glass to the table.

Her attention was on me now, and I had every plan to milk it until I’d obtained every piece of information I needed. The first thing in my rule book, if I had one, was: DO NOT FUCKING TRUST LEONORA COLOMBO.

“What isthis?”

“I thought the invitation spelled dinner correctly. Unless the almighty one somehow missed that.”

My lips twitched, and I crossed my arms over my chest. The girl could have a thousand and one issues burdening her small, flawless shoulders; regardless, she’d still hold her head high and find a way to dash a quick taste of her feisty venom.

I liked it.

I liked….

“Thank you for that silent suggestion.” I made sure to clarify. “As a matter of fact, Icanread. My surprise is directed at thepurposeof this dinner.”

A smile danced on her mouth, which was highlighted with bold lipstick, but she kept mute. Little sly bitch. She was enjoying every minute of this, watching me battle with angst as I tried to wrap my head around the reason we convened at this location tonight.

Tikhon positioned men in every corner, and surveillance was tight. Just in case.

“I stand to be corrected but you’re leaving thoughts in my head, Leonora,” I pressed, and I thought I saw a shudder roll over her shoulders.

She pressed her lips firmly. “Thoughts like?”

“You, shooting your shot like this. Makes me think you liked it when I had you bound on that chair. Is that it? You like being manhandled, and it turns you on? Makes your heart throb for the one who has you subdued?”

My fingernails dug into my palms, so deep I believed my skin would crack. Where all that bullshit came from, I didn’t know. My bait was supposed to be simple: a quick dip inside the sea and wait for her to latch on. But I’d gone ahead and spilled my guts, fogging my brain with imaginations of what it would be like—feel like—to have the Italian princess subdued and at my mercy, bound on my fucking bed….

Or maybe, over this goddamn table.

Christ.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Her eyes were teasing.

I nodded. “I would.”

I didn’t need her to play this game. I didn’t need her fanning this fire. “But that’s not why you’re here, is it?”

“It could be.” Beating about the bush, she was. But I wasn’t going to stop her. If she wanted to talk and spill her guts as well, I had no intention of stopping her. “Don’t dampen possibilities because we had a rough start. You’re a fine man.” Her eyes glazed over with an unreadable shield when she gave me a once-over. “A handsome man. Probably the most sought-after bachelor on the planet—”

Leonora was buttering too much. And she wasn’t the flattering type. Dead giveaway.

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