Page 27 of Innocent Bratva Hostage

There was something smoldering about the way he said those words, the possessiveness in his voice and the darkening of his eyes. I knew he meant every bit of what he said—that I was his alone.

Rolling down the window, I stared at the streetlamps and the half-moon adorning the sky. I needed anything to distract me from the burning intensity of his gaze on me.

We were on our way back from the party, and after everything—the dance, the searing jealousy I could sniff from him, and the way he held me—I would honestly rather be anywhere else but right next to him. That was how much I wanted to avoid him.

I couldn’t wait to get home, run upstairs, and lock my door.

One of his men had come to drive us home as he was particular about not driving after how much alcohol he had.

He’d been scrolling through emails and replying to them most of the drive back home, but now he was just sitting there, staring at me.

My cheeks heated with a blush, and my stomach fluttered with butterflies. I couldn’t shake off the feeling of him gazing at me.

The driver pulled over by the entrance of the mansion. Andrei stepped out first and moved around the car. Before I could reach for the handle, he opened the door by my seat and held out his hand to me. I hesitated, meeting his gaze for a second before slipping my fingers into his.

The moment our skin met, a spark shot up my arm and ignited a warmth in my chest that I pretended not to notice. There was a shift in his expression, and I knew he could tell how uncomfortable he made me, how irresistible I found him.

None of this was normal. I shouldn’t feel the way I did when he was close. My pulse shouldn’t race at his touch or even in response to his smile, but it did.

His presence was pure torment to my body, but not because I hated him. Hatred would have been far better than this attraction.

His grip tightened as he helped me out of the car.

The minute I steadied myself outside, I tugged my hand away from him and made my way into the mansion.

He was right behind me, the clacking of his suede shoes on the marble floor synching with the clicking of my heels.

I could feel his stare on me. I could sense his need for me. And I wanted him just as much as I suspected he wanted me.

We reached the corridor, and the realization that I was going the wrong way hit me. This way led to his room, not mine. My room was at the other end of the hallway.

Shit.

I stopped walking and spun around to leave, but instead, I almost crashed into him. I managed to steady myself before I could fall any further.

Andrei was faster than light, springing into action and trying to catch me.

Our bodies brushed, sending a jolt of awareness through me.

The heat in my stomach intensified at the contact.

I tried to convince myself that it was nothing and that I only felt the way I did because I’d never been this close to a man who wasn’t my father, but I knew I was fooling myself.

I hadn’t felt the butterflies in my stomach when I danced with Viktor, and my heart certainly hadn’t beaten faster when Antonio kissed the back of my hand.

Only Andrei made me feel this way.

I should’ve been used to it by now, but the fact that I knew we were alone now made it even more dangerous. We could both act on our desires, and no one could stop us.

Right, it was too dangerous. “I’m sorry,” I muttered and readied myself to walk away as quickly as I could, but he wrapped his hand around my wrist the same way he had the first time we met.

“What are you sorry for?”

I tilted my head to look at him and forgot to breathe the moment his eyes met mine.

“Uh—I….” I couldn’t come up with a single reason or excuse. My mind was mush right now, and my thoughts were soiled with sinful, dirty thoughts.

His lips curled as he inched nearer.

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