Page 38 of Blood Oath Christmas
Surprise lifts my other eyebrow. She’s actually apologizing instead of finding a way to blame it on me.
A beat passes. She lifts her chin a fraction, and I realize I thought too soon. “You kissed me,” she accuses, her voice coming out in almost a squeak.
Lust slams hard into my dick, making it swell where I stand. She doesn’t realize how dangerous it is for her to bring up that kiss. My entire body reacts to the memory. I have to clench my hands at my sides to keep from acting on the impulse to take her in my arms and kiss her breathless.
“And you kissed me back,” I respond, reveling in the way her cheeks turn bright red and she nervously shifts to her other foot.
“If you really want to know me,” I say, my voice lowered an octave as I take a step toward her, “then we can continue where we left off.” I take another step, watching the way her eyes widen. “Only it will be much more than a kiss.”
I step closer to the desk. She steps back.
She edges away from the desk. Her back finds the wall and her eyes widen. Slim fingers skim the wood as she sidles toward the door without turning her back on me.
Her breathing is fast, eyes wide, but I’m not sure if that’s because of fear or desire. Or both. Desire and restraint coil inside me like rival serpents.
Every inch she edges toward the door makes my pulse pound harder. I should close the distance, trap her between my arms, claim the thing I know we both feel. Instead, I stay rooted.
“Ivy.” Her name is nothing more than gravel in my throat. She freezes for a heartbeat before slipping through the door. The door shuts behind her with a soft click that feels louder than a gunshot. I stand there for a moment, listening to the silence she leaves behind. My pulse is still uneven. My hands curl into fists before I force them to relax.
She walked out, and I let her. I tell myself it was the right choice. I tell myself she needs space. But the truth burns deeper. I wanted her to stay. I wanted to close the distance, press her back against the wall, and take what both of us keep pretending we don’t want.
I cross the room and sink into the leather chair. The chair creaks as I lean back. Her scent lingers in the air. I rub my jaw and drag a hand over my mouth, but it doesn’t erase the image of her eyes locked on mine. Anxiety was in them, yes. But so was fire.
I should focus. I’ve spent my life building discipline. Years of holding control so tightly, it carved into me like iron. And now one woman, one girl I swore to protect, is undoing that with every step she takes away from me.
I open the bottom drawer, check the pistol inside, then close it again. Habit keeps me steady when nothing else does.
I lean forward, bracing my elbows on the hard wood, and press my forehead against my clasped hands. That’s when the memory drags me back.
Gunfire rips down the alley, echoing off brick and steel. I’ve miscalculated. Too many of them. I’m surrounded and there’s no way out. My magazine is almost empty, and I can already see the flash of the barrel aimed squarely at my chest.
Then Andrei comes out of nowhere. He slams into me, knocking me hard against the wall as the shot cracks past, close enough that I smell the powder. The bullet tears a chip out of the brick where my head was a second earlier.
“Keep moving,” Andrei growls, dragging me forward. His grip is iron, steady where mine is slipping. He fires three rounds without hesitation, and the men chasing us scatter back into cover. We run, boots pounding against the slick pavement, the stink of smoke and rust filling my lungs.
At the end of the alley a fence blocks the way. I curse, certain we’re finished. Andrei doesn’t flinch. He boosts me up first, bracing his shoulder under my foot, and shoves me hard enough to send me over the top. Shots ring out again, sparking against the chain link fence.
“Go!” he shouts.
But I drop down on the other side and turn back. “Not without you.”
He vaults the fence like it’s nothing, landing beside me, his eyes sharp and unshaken.
We duck into a stairwell, and I look at him in the dim light, my chest heaving from exertion and the close call. “You just saved my life.”
He gives a short laugh, though his eyes stay serious. “You’d do the same.”
“How can I repay you?” The words are out before I can stop them.
He doesn’t look away. “Promise me. If anything ever happens to me, you’ll watch over my little girl.”
I draw my knife, cut a line across my palm, and hold it out. “You have my blood on it.”
He meets it with his own, his grip like iron. The mix of our blood seals the vow.
“Then it’s settled,” he says.
The vow burns hotter than the gunfire. Andrei gives me my life. In return, I give him the promise of my protection for his daughter. For life.
