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Honestly, the sight of him took my breath away. I wanted to touch him, to reach out and pull him close and run my hands over his body, but I couldn’t let him have that much control over me.
No.
Not when I knew the things that I knew.
“Riley-girl, you aren’t wearing the dress Daddy picked out for you,” he observed, a bit of a warning in his tone, and I did the best I could to blatantly ignore it all while my abs clenched with nerves at what would happen if I disobeyed him.
I glanced at his hands, remembering how his touch had felt on my skin and how much the very same palm had stung as it spanked my bare ass.
Keep it together, Riley!
My chin lifted and I met his gaze head-on.
There was no fear, only cold determination.
“No, Maxim, I’m not,” I replied.
I wasn’t playing this game anymore. I needed to find out more about him and I needed to know who I was to him.
But most important, I needed to know about his wife.
He was silent for a moment, his eyes studying me. I had to work very hard not to look away from him, but I didn’t. I stayed strong. I stared him down, silently challenging him to do his worst.
The tension between us was palpable, but he didn’t seem too concerned with the situation. He simply raised an eyebrow, and I watched as he slowly stood up to his full height.
I hated how intimidating he was like that, standing at least a foot taller than my short five foot three inches.
“Something is on your mind, little girl, and unless you tell me what it is, I can’t make it better,” he said softly, and I hated how his gentleness tugged at my heartstrings.
Instead of answering, I reached into my pocket, flicked the switchblade open, and pointed it straight at him.
“Who the fuck are you that you need an armory full of weapons? You talk about how dangerous the Orlovs are, but what you never mentioned is how much I need to fear you,” I spat, and he cocked his head.
“That door was locked,” he replied.
“It was. I unlocked it,” I confirmed with a shrug.
“Impressive, little girl,” he purred and that took me by surprise. I opened my mouth, but all that came out was an open snarl. He stayed silent after that, watching me closely as I took a daring step toward him.
I was terrified, but I was also determined to stand my ground. I slipped my free hand into my pocket and pulled out the picture.
I held it up straight in front of me.
“You’re married and last night… last night shouldn’t have happened,” I scoffed, and he glanced down at the photograph and then back up at me.
His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he sighed softly. He ran a hand through his hair.
When his eyes lifted to mine, they were soft, and a lump formed in my throat.
He looked hurt, and somehow, I felt the pain radiating off him in waves.
I took a step back as he took several steps toward me, staring at that picture.
“Riley-girl, my wife is dead,” he said softly.
“Did you kill her?”
“Sometimes it feels like I did,” he answered, his voice breaking a little and it raised my hackles on end.
