Page 11 of His Hold

He stares, briefly puzzled, then shakes his head slowly. "I don’t know about her disappearance, but your sister was involved with dangerous people. Not me."

“Why should I believe you?” My voice cracks despite myself. I hate that weakness.

"Believe whatever you want. It won’t change reality." He presses the gun harder. "Tell me who you're working with."

“I told you,” I say slowly, enunciating each word. “No one.”

Nikolai pauses, releases me and then circles me again, studying my face carefully. I’m trying not to shake, but I know he sees it anyway.

"You really don't understand, do you?" His voice drops lower when he comes up behind me, sending unwanted shivers down my spine. "You're playing a fucking game with a person you shouldn’t, and one you don't even know the rules of."

"And you underestimate me." I fight to keep my voice bold as water drips from my hair, sliding down my neck.

From the mirror across, I see he tucks away his gun, and his eyes travel over me with deliberate slowness. "Do I? Or are you overestimating yourself?"

"You should leave." The words come out softer than I intend.

"Should I?" He moves even closer, each step measured, but soon I feel the hard lines of his chest pressed against my back. "When I finally have you exactly where I want you?"

My skin prickles with awareness. "And where's that?"

"Off balance. Vulnerable." His breath stirs my wet hair. "Tell me, my being so close, does it frighten or excite you?"

I turn to face him, clutching the towel tighter. A weak attempt to put some distance between us. "Neither."

"Liar." His fingers trace my collarbone, collecting droplets of water. "Your pulse says otherwise."

"My pulse says you just had a gun to my head."

"And now?" He closes the distance I just managed to find, his lips nearly brushing my ear. "What's your excuse for the way you're quivering?"

Heat floods my face. "Maybe I'm just cold."

"We both know that's not true." His hand finds my throat again, the touch unexpectedly gentle. "The same way we both know you could have screamed for help by now."

"Maybe I'm waiting for the right moment." But even I don't believe my words.

"Or maybe..." He tilts my chin up, and I hate how my body responds to his touch. "You want to know what happens next."

I should push him away. Remember why I’m here, what he might have done to Irina. Instead, I stand frozen, caught between fear and the strange warmth flickering beneath the hardness of his expression. It's unnerving, being this close, feeling this exposed under his scrutiny.

"What do you really want?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. “If you wanted to kill me, you could have. We both know it.”

He studies me silently, his eyes drifting slowly from my face down to where the towel hugs my body. "Just like you. Answers, Katya."

“How did you know my—?”

“Your name is the least of what I know about you now, sweetheart. I know everything you’ve done in your life, every friend you made, every job you worked, every country you visited in your 26 years. But the thing I’m still figuring out is why you’d think it was wise to trail after me. When you know damn well what I’ve done to men who did worse. I’m just here for my answers, Katya. And maybe even something more.”

My heart races wildly as I realize the implications of his words. I can't help the flush that creeps up my cheeks, despite the situation.

"What makes you think I'd give you either?" I challenge.

Nikolai smiles slowly. "Because," he says softly, but his hands are squeezing tightly, "right now, I have all the leverage."

Chapter 4

Nikolai

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