Page 101 of Fortress of the Heart

Even imagining Vlad with his hands on me sends a shudder through my body.

Dimitri looks at me as I avoid his gaze.

“Kholodny,” I say in Russian.Cold.

“Vklyuchite teplo,” Dimitri says to the front.Turn up the heat.

A steady stream begins to filter through the vents as I snuggle into the hoodie I’m still wearing. It even smells like him.

“Luchsiy?”Better?

I nod.

For a cold-hearted killer, sometimes Dimitri can be awfully thoughtful.

All the while, Marco’s business card burns a hole through my pocket.

I don’t know how this man has this power over me. I need to forget him.

I need to wash him out of my system. Though, now that I’ve had a taste of him, I know I want to take a bite.

I close my eyes and try not to think of Marco.

I try to forget every last shred of him that still marks my skin and penetrates my soul.

The feel of him.

His need for me as much as mine for him, I know it was there. It wasn’t one-sided.

His stubble on my skin, being inside me where no man has been before…just the thought of it makes my skin prickle.

I’m old enough to make my own decisions, if only they could see that.

A part of me wants to stand up to my father, but I know how he can be.

He’s not reasonable. He will never see my side.And it’s why I’ve distanced myself from him for a long while. It doesn’t stop him from trying to control my life, nor does it stop him from doting on Vlad every chance he gets. I know by now that Vlad will be worried.

He will not like the fact the Medicis have had me in their custody for this long. He will have questions.

“Mne nuzno novy telephone,” I say quietly.I need a new telephone.“Mne nuzhno pozvonit Ana.”I need to call Ana.

“Eto uje organize,” Dimitri replies.It’s already arranged.

“Spasibo.”Thank you.

I rest my head on the window, trying to clear my mind.

I imagine what it would have been like if I would have made the plane to Tuscany.

I’d be having the time of my life now, enjoying the climate, visiting vineyards, and sightseeing along the Amalfi coast without the pitfalls or worries about anything to do with the Russian or Italian mobs.

My life is a fucking mess.

But I’m tired of being scared.

If this situation taught me anything, it’s to live in the fucking moment.

Now that I’ve had the taste of it, I’m not sure I can ignore it, and that thought keeps me from falling apart as we pull into my uncle’s estate.

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