Page 12 of Twisted Pact
“It’s the only answer you’re getting.” I walk closer, watching her try to decide if she should back away. She doesn’t. “You felt it, too. That thing between us. The thing you’ve been running from since the day we met.”
“I haven’t been running from anything.”
“Liar.”
She opens her mouth to argue, then looks around the room instead. Takes in the candles. The open windows. The bottle of wine I opened twenty minutes ago, just in case.
“You set this up for me?”
“Don’t read too much into it. I just didn’t want you to think I bring women to empty warehouses.”
“Do you? Bring women to empty warehouses?”
“Only the ones who owe me money.”
She almost smiles. Almost. “You’re insane.”
“You already said that yesterday. Got any new material?”
“How about this: You’re an arrogant bastard who thinks leaving cryptic notes in women’s purses is an acceptable method of flirtation.”
“Worked, didn’t it? You’re here.”
“I’m here because I want to understand what you want from me.” She moves farther into the room, putting distance between herself and the door. Progress.
“That’s the second time you’ve asked that question. Makes me think you already know the answer and you’re just stalling.”
“Maybe I want to hear you say it.”
“Why? So you can pretend to be shocked and leave with your virtue intact?”
“My virtue is none of your business.”
“Everything about you is my business now, Zaika.”
She tilts her head and says, “Maybe I came here to tell you to stay away from me. That I’m not interested in whatever game you’re playing.”
“Then why are you still standing here? Why didn’t you tell me that from the door and leave?”
“Maybe I’m curious,” she offers with an unsure shrug.
“About what?”
“About why you’re so determined to pursue me. You could have any woman in Moscow. Women who would die to be seen with you. Women who understand your world and won’t question it. So why me? Why pursue someone who doesn’t want to be part of this life?”
Good question. One I’ve been asking myself since last night.
“Maybe I like a challenge.”
“Or maybe you just don’t like being told no.”
“That too,” I concede with a few nods.
She shakes her head but moves closer anyway. “You’re impossible.”
“And yet you’re still here. Just like yesterday.”
“This is crazy,” she whispers. “I barely know you. Everything about this is reckless and stupid and distracting. I have a presentation on Monday that I should be preparing for instead of standing here with you.”
