Page 46 of Hostage of the Russian
“Of me?”
“Of this. Of how you make me feel. Of what it means.”
“What do I make you feel?”
“Safe. Wanted. Like maybe I could actually be happy.” She pulled back to look at him. “I never thought I’d feel that way with anyone, especially not with you.”
“And what does it mean?”
“That I’m falling for you. Despite everything, despite how this started, despite every rational thought in my head telling me not to.” She laughed, the sound slightly hysterical. “I’m falling for the man who kidnapped me.”
“And I’m falling for the woman who was supposed to be my revenge.” He cupped her face in both hands, holding her gaze. “Strange how things work out.”
“Is this real?” she asked. “Or are we just caught up in the intensity of everything?”
“It’s real,” he said without hesitation. “At least for me, it is. What we just shared, what I’m feeling right now, it’s the most real thing I’ve ever experienced.”
She searched his eyes, and whatever she saw there seemed to satisfy her because she relaxed into his embrace again.
“So what happens now?” she asked.
“Now we figure it out as we go. Now we see if we can build something good from this mess we’ve found ourselves in.”
“And my father?”
“You’ll never have to see him again. I’ll make sure of it.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.” He meant it with every fiber of his being. Danny Hartford had hurt this woman, had damaged her, had made her believe she was worthless. For that alone, he deserved to die. But Kostya would make sure his death was slow, painful, and served as a message to anyone else who might think about hurting what belonged to him.
Azriel seemed to sense the dark turn of his thoughts because she pressed closer to him, her body warm and soft against his.
“Don’t think about him right now,” she murmured. “Just be here with me.”
“I’m here,” he promised, forcing the violent images from his mind. “I’m not going anywhere.”
They lay in comfortable silence for a while, their breathing synchronized, her fingers tracing idle patterns on his skin. Kostya marveled at how different this felt from any other night he’d spent with a woman. There was no urgency to leave, no desire for distance. Instead, he wanted to memorize every detail of this moment, to burn it into his memory so he could recall it perfectly later.
“Kostya?” Azriel’s voice was drowsy, sleep beginning to pull at her.
“Hmm?”
“Thank you for tonight. For celebrating with me, for being there at graduation, for this.” She pressed a soft kiss to his chest. “For showing me who you really are underneath all the scary Bratva stuff.”
“Thank you for giving me a chance. For letting me see who you really are, too.”
“Mmm.” She was fading now, her body growing heavy against his. “I’m glad I stayed.”
“So am I.”
Within minutes, her breathing had evened out into the deep rhythm of sleep. Kostya lay awake for a long time after, watching the way the moonlight played across her features, thinking about everything she’d told him.
Danny Hartford was a dead man. There was no question about that now. But Kostya would make sure his death served a purpose beyond just revenge. It would send a message to anyone else who might think about harming what was his. It would erase the last connection between Azriel and her painful past. And it would ensure that she never had to live in fear again.
But more than that, it would be justice for the little girl who’d been left alone and afraid, who’d had to learn to survive on her own because the man who should have protected her had chosen to hurt her instead.
Kostya’s arms tightened around Azriel’s sleeping form, and he pressed a soft kiss to her hair. She stirred slightly, murmuring something incoherent, but didn’t wake.
