Page 41 of City Of Thieves
My response is to snake my arms around his neck and bury my face into his shirt. I hate myself for it, but I need his strength. Mine doesn’t seem to be working anymore—even though weakness is a marked card only a fool would show him. So far, he’s nearly killed me twice and managed to crowbar his way into the first compartment of my box of secrets.
Still, I cling to him because there’s no one else to cling to. I’ve been forced to push every single person I care about away by a man who just had me beaten up, and for what? For banging on the bars of an invisible cage Konstantin’s kept me locked inside for years.
Renzo holds me like this until the blanket starts to slip. Until the pain in my stomach and ribs isn’t quite as sharp. Beneath my cheek, his shirt is soaked through, and my eyes feel sore and scratchy.
Have I been crying?
I’m not sure what shocks me the most: the fact I shed tears in front of someone or that it washimwho I fell apart for.
My enemy.
My ally.
“Who knew a London hotel turn-down service could be as ‘pleasant’ as a New Jersey one?” He shifts his weight to gain access to his back pocket. “Killian? I need a clean-up crew in Suite 203 right away.”
I overhear a curse of disbelief, followed by a terse rebuke.
“I don’t give a damn how it looks. There’s a dead asshole lying three feet away from me with a bullet in his head. Save the British outrage for another day and do as I say.”
He hangs up and chucks his phone across the room. That’s when it hits me.He’s just killed my attacker…Once Konstantin finds out about this, I might never set foot in Moscow again.
Panic courses through me like a bad vintage with a bitter aftertaste. I try to pull away from him, but the arm draped around my shoulder tightens like a vise. “Let me go, Renzo,” I plead. “I’m okay. Just bruised. That man didn’t come here to kill me…”
He pauses. “And how the fuck would you know that?”
Think before you speak, Tatiana. Every insight you give him is more ammunition for our war.
This time, I’m tugging away from him with a vicious jerk, digging my elbows into his chest, but the bastard’s not relenting. “You need to let go of me, right now. I’ve been manhandled enough tonight.”
“Not so fast.” His grip turns to iron as he rises to his feet, my body still cradled in his arms. Swatting away my protests, he carries me out of the room, and into his, kicking the door shut behind him hard enough to make the door frame rattle.
“Put me down!”
“We’ve been dancing around each other long enough, Tatiana. Five minutes ago, the music just ended, along with all your excuses.”
I drum my fists against his chest, but he just bats them away. I struggle harder, but he doesn’t even flinch. Instead, he walks me straight into his bathroom, and then inside the shower cubicle, slamming the heel of his bloody hand against the shower faucet. It springs to life immediately, dousing us both in freezing-cold water.
“What the hell are you doing?” I scream, my silk dress molding obscenely to my curves in a matter of seconds, gasping and spluttering for breath as a million tiny needles pierce my skin.
“Giving the Ice Empress an ice bath.” With this, he drops me to my feet on the slippery shower floor. “I’m putting you back in your natural habitat. Oh, and you’re welcome for saving your life back there.”
“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” I try to push him away, but he’s an immovable object. “You haven’t ‘saved my life,’ Renzo Marchesi. You’ve gone and made it a million times worse. Didn’t you just hear what I said? That man had no intention of killing me!”
“No, just to rough you up and maybe fracture a couple of bones. That a typical night for you,dolcezza?”
God, he’s so stunning in his fury—so merciless—like all my walls might shatter on his command, along with the walls to this cubicle.
“You’re such a selfish bastard!” I explode, terrified by how vulnerable he’s making me feel suddenly. “You only seeyourpain, and no one else’s!”
“That’s bullshit!”
“You don’t give a damn about anyone except yourself!”
Somehow, it’s easier to show him emotion when the water’s trying to drown me out. I’m battling against outside forces and it’s unleashing things I’d never normally say.
“Is that really what you think?”
“Fuck you!” I scream as he pins my wrists to the white tiles above my head, looking so savagely dark and handsome, towering over me like this, with his black hair flattened and dripping into his eyes, and his long eyelashes separated.
