Page 14 of Defiled Innocence

After a quick deep breath, I make my way to the foyer.

Dmitri Dragunov stands in the front hall, towering over Christian with a stormy glare.

“Dmitri.” I stop in my tracks. “What are you doing here?”

He drags his eyes to mine. “I told you I was picking you up for dinner.”

“Yeah. But… this isn’t my apartment.” I point out the obvious.

“Yes. That’s something we will discuss later.” His glare turns back on Christian. “When we’re home.”

Home?

Infuriation burns in my stomach. The utter arrogance of this man is almost impressive.

“How did you find me?”

“Your arms,” he states at the same time as I ask my question. There are red handprints on my arms from Christian’s grip. They’re fading, but they are obviously hand prints.

“Oh.” I rub my hands over the marks, like I can erase them. “My skin is really sensitive.”

Christian’s cheeks drain of all color. Even the red in his eyes fades.

Dmitri’s hand wraps around Christian’s throat as he throws him against the wall, lifting him until his toes barely touch thefloor. Christian grabs at Dmitri’s hand, and already he’s gasping for air.

“Dmitri. Stop it.” I try to get between them, but Dmitri closes the gap to keep me away. “I’m fine. Nothing happened. Stop!”

I grab at his arm and yank, but I’d have better luck pulling a semi across the interstate.

“Please. Stop it, you’re hurting him.” I yell, glancing at the panic in Christian’s eyes. If Dmitri wanted him dead, it would only take a small increase in his grip. A flick of his wrist, and Christian would be lifeless at my feet.

“Please.” I soften my tone. Dmitri swings his eyes to mine, his jaw sets. Reluctantly, he lets go and Christian stumbles forward, grabbing at his throat and sucking in as much air as he can.

“You touched her.” Dmitri’s hands flex at his sides and I’m not sure how long I can keep him from getting his hands on Christian again. “You put your hands on my wife?”

“Well.” I huff a laugh. “I’m not your wife.”

He ignores me.

“I’ve removed men’s hands for lesser insults.”

Okay, that statement gives me pause.

“I didn’t mean to grab her. We were talking and… it wasn’t on purpose.” Christian stumbles over his words, most of them slurred from the endorphins mixing with the bourbon.

“Dmitri. I’m fine. It wasn’t anything. Let’s just go.” I twist my head to see Christian. “Can you get my coat and purse from the kitchen?”

“Sure.” He squeezes past me and hurries out of the foyer, still rubbing his throat.

Unfortunately, this leaves Dmitri and me alone. Making me the only target for his heated gaze. And when it lands on me, ice runs down my back.

“Dmitri.”

“Never take a side against me, Amelia,” he says softly, then steps up to me. “Are you alright?” He gently cups his hands over my arms, over Christian’s marks.

“I’m fine, Dmitri. Really, it wasn’t anything. Christian was Lucas’ best friend, my friend for a long time. He’s having trouble with Lucas’ death.”

Dmitri stares at me for a long moment. “It’s the only reason he’s still breathing. But if he ever puts so much as a fingertip on you again, I will have more than his hands removed.”

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