Page 22 of Stalk Me

“No.” Nikolai stops inches from me. “You moved like it was second nature.”

My heart pounds. He’s right, but I never learned those skills. They just came when needed. Like other strange abilities that surface at odd moments—languages I shouldn’t know, reflexes that shouldn’t exist.

“I don’t—” I swallow hard. “There are things about my past that I can’t explain.”

His expression sharpens, predatory interest blazing in his piercing eyes. “You’re full of surprises, Sofia Henley.” He emphasizes my last name like he’s tasting it, testing it. “Or whatever your real name might be.”

That hits too close to home. The adoption records, the gaps in my early childhood—all the questions I’ve never been able to answer.

“You’re not what you appear to be.” His voice drops lower, more intimate. “And now I’m very, very curious.”

The way he looks at me now—it’s different from before. Not just desire or possession. There’s an intensity, a focus like I’m under a microscope. Like he won’t stop until he’s uncovered my secrets.

Including the ones I don’t even know myself.

His fingers trail down my arm, leaving fire in their wake. I should step back and maintain professional distance, but my rebellious body leans into his touch.

“Your secrets,” Nikolai murmurs, his accent thickening. “A gallery owner doesn’t fight like that.”

“Maybe I’m full of surprises.” Despite the dangerous heat building between us, I refuse to back down, meeting his gaze head-on.

“Oh, I’m counting on it.” He steps closer, backing me against my desk. His cologne—subtle notes of cedar and something darker—makes my head spin. “Tell me, Sofia, what other hidden talents are you keeping from me?”

His hand slips onto my hip, making my breath catch. The touch is possessive and claiming. Part of me wants to push him away and maintain control, but a deeper, darker part craves more.

“You’re used to getting what you want, right?” I manage to keep my voice steady despite the tremors running through me.

“Always.” He traces circles on my hip with his rough fingers. “And I want to unravel every mystery you’ve wrapped yourself in.”

An ache settles deep inside me. This man is dangerous—to my business, carefully constructed life, and sanity. Yet I can’t seem to care when he’s looking at me like this.

“The attack tonight,” I say, trying to redirect. “Was it really about protection money?”

His other hand cups my face, tilting it up. “You’re deflecting. But yes. More importantly, it proved what I suspected—you’re not just an art dealer. You’re something else entirely.”

The way he studies me makes me feel like he can see past every wall I’ve built. The gentle brush of his thumb against my lip pulls a gasp from me.

“The question is,” he continues, voice dropping to a whisper, “are you ready to discover what that something else might be?”

My body answers his call without my permission, drawn to him like a moth to flame. My resistance crumbles as I lean into him, my breath catching at the hard evidence of his desire pressing against me.

His eyes darken, and the hand at my hip tightens possessively. The desk edge digs into my back, but I barely notice as his mouth claims mine. This kiss is different from our first—deeper, hungrier. When his tongue traces my lips, I open for him without hesitation.

A moan escapes me as his tongue delves inside, tasting, exploring. His other hand tangles my hair, angling my head to deepen the kiss further. The controlled power in his touch sets my nerve endings on fire.

My fingers curl into his expensive suit jacket, pulling him closer. The hard planes of his body press against my softercurves, and heat pools low in my belly. His tongue strokes mine in a sensual dance that makes my knees weak.

This is madness. I should stop this. But as his teeth graze my bottom lip, rational thought dissolves. I arch into him, wanting more, needing more.

I yield to his embrace, gripping his jacket while he pulls back slightly. His ice-gray eyes lock onto mine, darkened with intensity.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, his accent thicker than before. “Let go of that control you hold so tightly. Give in to Daddy.”

The word sends an unexpected shiver through me. My breath catches as heat floods my cheeks. I should be offended, should push him away for such presumption. Instead, I find myself pressing closer.

“I...” My voice fails as his hand tightens in my hair.

“Say it,” he commands softly. “Tell Daddy what you need.”

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