Page 6 of Dirty Grovel

“Are you really pissed atme?”

She lifts her eyes to mine. Despite the beating she’s taken over the last few days, they’re no less bright. “I thought you knew me. Apparently not.”

“I know what I saw.”

“You saw wrong.Evidence, no matter how convincing, can be fake, Oleg. I don’t know why I have to be the one to tell you that.”

I bite back the jab on my tongue. “Who were you talking to just now?”

Her eyes go wide and she forgets to hide her face. Then she remembers and it turns back to steel.

Her chin rises upwards, but all that does is show me more of the bruise as it snakes up her cheek and curls around her eye.

That fucking bastard. I’ll gut him like a fucking fish. He’ll scream for days before I let him die, I swear to God he will.

“No one.”

I sigh. “I already know you placed a call a few minutes ago, Sutton. There’s no point trying to deny it.”

“Fine,” she snaps. “I don’t deny it. But I am going to deny telling you who I called. It’s none of your business.”

“Considering you chose one of my yachts to make your getaway, I’d say it’s very much my business.”

“I didn’t think you’d beonthis yacht. If I did, I would have chosen differently. Maybe I’d have hitched a ride on one of Boris’s ships.”

I want to argue, to rage, but it’s getting us nowhere, and if I have to look at how pitifully wrecked she is for a moment longer, I’m going to go insane.

So instead of bickering, I extend my hand out to her.

She just looks at it suspiciously. “What are you doing?”

“Offering you my hand. What does it look like?”

“To lead me upstairs and fling me overboard?” she asks dryly. “Because I’m pretty sure that’s murder.”

I roll my eyes. “If I wanted to kill you, you’d be dead already.”

“How comforting.”

“I’m trying to help you, woman,” I growl impatiently. “Kindly do me the small service of letting me.”

Her eyes dart from my face to my hand. From my hand to my face. But she doesn’t take it.

Grinding my teeth together in impatience, I reach for her arm. She swats it away.

“Fucking hell, woman, you are infuriating.”

“Great. Then you know how I feel every time I talk to you.”

I rise to my feet, trying my damndest to unfurl my fists. I would punch something if I didn’t think she’d take it personally. Not that I should care.

But the honest truth is that Idocare.

I care way too fucking much.

It takes all the effort left in my body to keep my voice calm and civil. “I’m not going to hurt you, okay?”

She lifts her eyebrows. “Then what are you trying to do?”

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