Page 22 of Vienna Bliss

“Why did you come looking for me?” she asked.

“Why did you run?”

“Because Rolf was going to sacrifice me like a fatted calf.”

“He will not.”

“Why?” Alena pulled away from him, still sitting on his lap but no longer leaning against his chest. She stared at the far wall. “What did you two decide to do with me?”

Alexander wanted to shake her. “You don’t seem…yourself.”

That was apparently the wrong thing to say because she climbed off his lap and stood up. “Ah, of course. The femme fatale character can’t switch to the damsel in distress. Too confusing.”

Now there was anger in her voice. Alexander rose, watching her every move as he tried to piece together what was going on in her head.

Alena wiped her cheeks with her fingers, then turned to him. “Before we go up, what was decided? I’d rather not have Rolf spring a surprise on me.”

“Nothing.”

She arched a brow. “What did you talk about after I left?”

He’d warned Rolf not to speak at or look at Alena the way he had been. Some threats had been issued, the kind of threats Rolf had no choice but to take seriously.

Alexander shrugged one shoulder, not wanting to tell her what they had discussed, because his statements, and his stance were possessive. He felt possessive of her, and he had no right. Doing or saying anything to remind her of their BDSM relationship—of the uneven power dynamic he’d forced her to accept—would only prolong her confusion and the influence of his dominance.

“Ah, I see.” Alena gestured to herself. “Out of sight, out of mind.”

Alexander frowned. “No. When you didn’t come back, we searched the villa for you.”

“And you guessed where I’d be.”

She seemed to be taking everything he said the wrong way. “No. I didn’t want you to be here—”

Alena jerked as if he’d shocked her.

Fuck.

“Alena, that…that isn’t what…”

This time she didn’t wait for him to finish his sentence.

“I get it, Alexander.”

She walked out of the safe room, her footsteps slapping against the stairs.

Alexander laced his fingers together behind his head and tipped his head back, sighing.

He had a feeling he had somehow just made everything worse.

* * *

“Ms. Moreau, how kind of you to rejoin us.”

“Agent Pendersen, how kind of you to indulge my silly little feminine moment.” Alena smiled, and she knew it was cold. She felt cold inside, all the way through. Not quite numb, the way she had been when they arrived at this god-forsaken place, but close. The inner cold deadened what she was feeling, but like applying an ice pack to a bruise, after time the cold itself became a source of pain.

“No.” Alexander said; he’d been right behind her all the way from his office.

She wasn’t sure who that no was directed at, and frankly, she didn’t give a fuck. He was done with her. He’d made that more than clear, but he’d also held her. Held her on his lap, the way he’d held her last night and that confused her. Infuriated her.