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His sparkling smile fades and he considers me closely as the helicopter comes to a stop.
“Have you met many mob bosses in your life?”
“No.” I’m forced to admit.
He pops the door open, ducking low as the still-spinning blades whip the wind overhead. I follow him, clutching my hands to my skull as visions of getting decapitated assault me. He doesn’t slow down, and I have to take two steps for every one of his.
On one edge of the roof is a tower made from speckled stone. Built into the massive structure is a rounded wooden door.
Konstantin waits for me beside it, but he’s in a hurry—he grabs my hand impatiently to pull me into the tower.
“Will you relax?” I argue. “I can’t run away even if I want to!”
He says nothing, and continues to drag me down the flight of stairs. They circle downward in the darkened space, the hanging lamps giving enough visibility when the diamond-shaped windows don’t. We go left, then right, and I’m struggling to keep track of my sense of direction.
Opening the door at the end of a wide hall, he throws me inside, shutting us in. I’m about to give him a piece of my mind when I see through a massive window over the lake I saw from the helicopter.
Holy shit.
From here, the view is even more awe-inspiring than from up in the air. Swans skirt over the water, leaving ripples in their wake.The olive trees on the rim cast long shadows that turn the blue water black.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” he asks.
“Yeah, I’ll give you a five-star review on Airbnb when I leave.” Shaking myself to my senses, I glare at him. “Amazing views, super scenic location. But the owner is a control freak who should be in jail.”
“I don’t remember you being this sarcastic.”
“I wasn’t pissed off at you in Italy!”
He sighs softly before leveling a hard look at me. “I’ll do my best to keep you as comfortable as I can. As for food, I remember you said you weren’t picky?”
I bristle and dig my nails into my palms. “I wish your ethics were as powerful as your memory.”
He ignores my jab. “There are clean clothes in the wardrobe.”
“Oh, you prepared for this kidnapping, then?”
His face darkens. “I told you to stop calling it that.”
Boy, he really hates that word. I’ll keep that in mind.“Just calling a spade a spade,Kostya.”
If I thought his face darkened when I kept saying the word kidnapping, his expression is absolutely murderous at me calling himthat.But I can’t back down now.
And besides. What’s he going to do? Kill me?
The knowledge that he’s forcing me to marry him—no matter how twisted of a proposal it is—has given me the small assurance that he’s not the one holding all the power.
He needs me more than he’s willing to admit.
“Are you going to be this difficult for the entire wedding?”
“So what if I do?” I just my chin at him. “Are you going to drag me down to a torture chamber in this castle and string me up until I do what you want?”
“Only if that’s what it takes, Kitty Cat.” A shadow passes over his face, and a cruel smile twists on his lips before it disappears.
Tiny flutters creep up my ribs to play with my heart, and desire squeezes between my legs again at the images his words conjure up in my mind.
Oh my.
