Page 39 of Beautiful Cruelty

But I don’t care.

My feet hit the wet ground with a soft thud and I sever the thread with my teeth. Then, without waiting to see if anyone noticed, I bolt across the manicured lawn towards the line of trees.

And I don't dare looking back to see if anyone is chasing.

11

VADIM

I pushopen my office door to find Demyon lounging in one of the leather chairs, feet propped on my desk.

"Get your boots off my desk."

He grins and drops his feet. "Good to see you too,bratishka. I've got that address you wanted for the McKinney girl?—"

"Nathan Walker's apartment. I know."

His eyebrows shoot up. "How did you?—"

"Because that's where I found her this morning." I pour myself two fingers of whiskey and take a slow sip. "She walked in while I was searching the place."

Demyon lets out a low whistle. "Talk about timing. What are the odds?"

"High, because she was engaged to him."

"Chto?" Demyon's eyes narrow. "Are you saying that?—"

"Yes. Nathan Walker washerfiancé." The whiskey burns pleasantly down my throat. “What are the odds?”

"Blyat." Demyon rubs his jaw. "Where is she now?"

"Here at Pankration." I set down my glass. "I've put her up in the blue suite."

"You brought herhere?" He leans forward. "Why?"

I take another sip of whiskey, letting its burn ground me to stop myself from thinking about Lacey's face when I told her my proposal. The way her amber-flecked eyes widened in shock, then narrowed with suspicion. The delicate flush that crept up her neck when I explained why it had to be her.

She'd squared her shoulders and lifted her chin, defiant even in her fear. Not once did she ever beg me for mercy.

Of course not,I remind myself of what she said when I held her in my arms on the dance floor at the Vorobyov event.She told me she doesn’t beg.

"Vadyusha?"

I realize that I've been silent, lost in thoughts of Lacey's soft blonde hair and irresistible curves screaming for me to touch.

"I'm going to marry her," I say, watching Demyon's reaction carefully. "She'll help us get that bible from the cathedral."

His mouth drops open. "Have you lost your mind? She's an outsider! Does she have any idea what she'll be asked to do?"

"She knows about Kirsan, and she knows this won't be a real marriage. She's just a means to an end." I set down my glass. The words taste false on my tongue. "Nothing more."

"What makes you so sure she's the right one for this?" Demyon's eyes lock onto mine. "What makes her so special?"

I stand and walk to the window, staring out at the manicured gardens below.

"She came up with something brilliant without even realizing it." I turn back to face him. "When I told her about the bible, she asked if I planned on smuggling it out in her wedding dress. Joking of course, but?—"

Demyon's eyebrows shoot up. "Not a terrible idea."

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