Page 117 of Merciless Daddy

The sight tightened my throat. He was trying so hard to make me feel at home.

“Anything else you need?” he asked.

I stood close enough to smell his cologne.

Kiryl was alive. He was coming to me.

I had money. Documents. A phone. An unlocked door.

I could leave if I wanted to.

Sal’s eyes dropped to my mouth, then returned to my face. Desire moved between us, quiet and vicious.

“What do you want?” he asked.

The question meant the room. Food. Rest. Security. But my body heard something else.

I wanted his mouth. His hands. His weight. I wanted to learn whether the control he carried so carefully could break. I wanted to put my lips against the cut on his cheek and then work lower until his disciplined breathing stopped.

Relief had loosened every part of me that fear kept locked.

The lust rushed into the space it left behind.

“I want everything,” I said. “Everything you have to offer.”

“Oh,” he said, grinning, “you’ll have it. Not much longer to wait.”

His gaze held mine.

The warmth in my body became an ache.

I had never wanted anyone more.

Iwaited for Kiryl on the porch for forty-three minutes. Sal brought me a coat after minute six. He put it around my shoulders anyway, without fastening it or telling me to wear it.

At minute twenty, he brought coffee.

At minute thirty, he stopped pretending he was there to check the perimeter and stood beside the porch rail with me.

Then tires sounded on gravel.

A dark SUV appeared between the trees. I was down the steps before Sal said my name.

The vehicle had not fully stopped when the rear door opened. Kiryl leaned out, pale-eyed and rumpled, wearing a coat too large for him.

“Lena—”

I hit him hard enough to push him back against the seat.

My arms closed around his neck. His went around my waist. He smelled of airplane air, coffee, and Tonio’s cologne.

Alive. Warm. My precious little brother.

“You’re crushing me,” he said into my hair.

“Be quiet, Kiryl, please.”

“I think one of my ribs—”