Page 31 of Savage Reign

He dangles the fabric in front of me to take, but I’m frozen in place. Is he for real? As if I’d ever willingly wear his clothes. Nope. Not happening.

“Did I not make myself clear?” he grits out.

I gulp. “I won’t put on your shirt.”

“In that case, I’ll have to do it for you.”

As he strides toward me, I instinctively stand and back up, but the wall stops my retreat.

The kitchen falls silent as he cages me in, one arm braced above my head. His bare form is inches from me, his broad shoulders blocking out everything else.

Without warning, he spins me around to face the wall. Heat radiates from his body as he holds the shirt open, making it clear I have no choice but to slip my arms through the sleeves. His hands slide down my sides as he turns me back around to face him.

My breath stutters as he starts buttoning the shirt himself. Each brush of his fingers against my body feels electric, and I silently curse the woman who brought him into this world. As he fastens the last button, his eyes lock on mine. The air between us is charged, neither of us willing to look away first.

“There. Was that so bad?” His eyes glint with victory.

It’s worse than bad. Because now, there’s no way I’ll be able to get him out of my head all damn day.

With a final glare in my direction, he steps back and turns to Eva. “Find better-fitting clothes for tomorrow,” he growls before leaving the room.

Emil keeps his focus firmly on his coffee, while Yelena hums a tune as she tidies up, seeming unfazed. Eva, however, flashes a wicked grin, clearly enjoying herself. “I think you get under his skin.”

“Yay for me,” I grumble, feeling like a kid in his giant shirt.

“It’s good for him to have someone who doesn’t just roll over,” she says with a wink. “He’s not used to it.”

“Yeah, well, he’s pakhan. His word is law.”

She shrugs like the title means nothing.

I don’t understand their relationship. It seems strange to me that she’s totally fine with this setup. Maybe she’s used to him keeping other women. Men like him get to do whatever they want after all.

Eva straightens and glances at her watch. “Oh, damn, I have to run.”

“You’re leaving?” I blurt. “What am I supposed to do?”

She pats my arm. “This is where you live now, so make yourself at home. Explore. Watch TV. Go for a swim. There’s a stack of magazines down in the gym if you’re bored. Emil can show you the way.”

This will never be home, but I hold my tongue. Under the guise of “exploring,” I plan to spend the day hunting for a phone, computer, or any digital device with Wi-Fi to contact Liza and Roman.

I don’t have high hopes. Nikolai isn’t an idiot. He’s likely locked up every means of communication. But that won’t stop me from looking.

Eva points a playful finger at me as she backs out of the room. “Have fun! Don’t get into trouble.”

I throw my hands in the air. “What trouble could I possibly get into?”

CHAPTER

TWELVE

NIKOLAI

“You’re a fucking dead man, Zhukov.”Roman’s voice cuts through the line, sharp with fury. “If you’ve hurt her?—”

“Is that any way to talk to your brother-in-law?” I lean back in my office chair, boots propped on the desk. A slow grin spreads across my face as I savor every second of his reaction.

The package I sent with the marriage license and pictures of Sofiya on my plane hit its mark. Instead of keeping his cool and having a rational conversation, he’s frothing at the mouth. He’s showing his hand that he’ll do whatever it takes to get Sofiya back.

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