Page 22 of Zafira

“Stop the melodrama, Comare. However enticing your naked body might be, sex isn’t why I’m here. Get dressed. We’re getting out of here. Grabiti-va, Zafira. I want to be in the air out of Chez airspace before Cermak realizes we’re gone.”

“I am not going anywhere. At least not—”

The soft buzz of Bogdan’s phone cut her protest short as he held up his hand and answered the call.

“Yes, Antonio?” He listened intently. “Good. Make sure the plane is warmed up and ready for take-off the moment we arrive.” Bogdan wasn’t idle during the conversation. He quickly stuffed Zafira’s clothes in her carry-on and flung a pair of pants and a sweater on the bed. “Get dressed, except if you want your tits flapping in the air while we run.”

“My tits do not flap, I’ll have you know,” she snapped but surprisingly started getting dressed. A glacial look chilled him on the spot. “For now, since I can sense the urgency in your manner, I will concede and do as you say, but do not think this is the end of it, Rusu. The moment we’re in the car, you better start explaining your actions.”

“Of course.” He headed toward the door. “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he growled as he looked over his shoulder to find her in front of the mirror. “Leave your hair. No one is going to see you, and I assure you I don’t give a shit whether your perfect coiffure is in place or messy and sexy.”

“As if I give a shit either way,” she flung back but was on his heels when he opened the door.

Bogdan knew he was being a prick and that his attitude toward her had changed since his return, but that had come along with the shift in their relationship. She was no longer the mighty Comare whose heels he clipped wherever she went or stuck to her side like a leech because the love he felt for her demanded closeness.

No, he had dissociated himself from that role and was done being an extra in her life. It was time she realized he was no longer one of the family’s soldiers who danced to her tune and admired her for her spunk. He was a man with enough power and money to build his own empire, should he choose to. A Dominant who knew exactly what he wanted. She had already given herself to him... she belonged to him, whether she believed it or not.

“Hmm,” he murmured loud enough for her to hear. “The lady doth protest too much, me thinks.”

“Poshel na khuy, Bogdan Rusu.”

“Fuck you? With pleasure, Ms. Guzun, but it’ll have to wait until we’re in the air. I have no intention of rushing it, so a quickie in the back of the GMC with Antonio watching us in the rearview—”

“You’re on thin ice, Rusu. I’m not some brainless twit, and I refuse to be ridiculed. Once we’re back home, I want you to disappear from my life. If I never see you again, it’ll be too soon.”

“Such contradictory words and actions, Ms. Guzun.”

“Shut the fuck up, you svo lach’, and get us out of here, or did you forget your supposed urgency to leave?”

“I didn’t forget, but at least your constant denial of your attraction and lust for me was entertaining during our escape.”

“I am not attracted to you, and I’m sure as hell not lusting after you.” Zafira climbed into the back seat and glowered at him. “You have become demented, Rusu. Probably because your brain has shriveled with age.” She snorted. “As will your dick if you dare swing it in my direction on the plane.”

“Ah, malen’kaya Comare, that’s the kind of challenge the Dom in me just can’t resist. Very well, now we’re definitely fucking on the plane.”

Zafira slammed the door in his face as he moved to get in next to her. His deep chuckle reverberated through the air as he quickly jogged around and got in.

“Yep,” he stretched out and closed his eyes, settling in for a short power nap as Antonio pulled off. “We’re going to fuck all the way back to Moldova.”

Chapter Eleven

Twenty-one-thousand feet in the air... thirty miles past the Czech Republic border...

As the private jet soared through the night sky, Zafira found herself lost in thought, her gaze fixed on the vast darkness outside the window. The city lights below twinkled like distant stars, a stark contrast to the luxury within the cabin.

The interior of Arian’s Bombardier Challenger 600 was nothing short of opulent. Plush leather seats beckoned with their promise of comfort, accented by polished wood and gleaming metal fixtures. Soft ambient lighting bathed the space in a warm glow, casting shadows that danced gracefully across the cabin walls. Everything exuded an air of refined elegance, a testament to her son’s impeccable taste and lifestyle.

Yet, amid the lavish surroundings, Zafira’s mind was consumed by a tumultuous mix of emotions. She couldn’t shake the feeling of discord that had settled within her since their abrupt departure from Marek Cermak’s house. Bogdan’s insistence on leaving had left her bewildered and frustrated. She trusted him implicitly, but she couldn’t help but question his judgment in this instance. Marek had been a friend for years, a confidant she had relied on countless times. She refused to believe that he or his associates posed any danger to her.

Glancing over at Bogdan, Zafira felt her heart skip a beat despite her inner turmoil. He was a formidable figure, even in his mid-sixties, with a presence that commanded respect. His silver hair was neatly trimmed, framing a ruggedly handsome face weathered by years of experience. Beneath the warmth in his piercing gaze glimmered a hint of steel as a reminder of the strength that lay within him. Broad shoulders and well-defined muscles spoke of a lifetime of discipline and dedication.

“Well, Rusu?” Zafira finally spoke, breaking the tense silence that hung between them. “I’m waiting. Just why the hell did we have to leave Marek’s so urgently?” Her tone was rigid from frustration and curiosity.

“All in good time,” Bogdan rumbled as he released his safety belt, got up, and did the same with hers. “For now, it’s time to honor the promise I made in the car.”

“Let me go!” Zafira bore back as he pulled her from her seat. “You can stuff your promise so far up your ass that you choke on it. I have no interest in having sex with you.”

“No? Hmm... like the delightful petrichor of early morning rain, the aroma of your lust teasing my nostrils says otherwise, so stop pretending, Ms. Guzun. Be honest about your needs for once in your life.”

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