She’s begging to be ruined.
And I’m just the man to do it to her.
“I have no one here,” she whispers. Her voice quivers, but it’s shot through with steel at the same time. “The only people who have been kind to me are your parents.”
I lean in a little, forcing her back against the trunk. “Do you think about the day we met, Olivia?”
She’s silent for a long time. More lightning cracks through the sky, followed by the low rumbling of encroaching thunder. She doesn’t even seem to register when the first few drops of rain fall on us through the leaves.
“Yes,” she whispers.
“What do you think about?”
I can practically hear her heartbeat thudding frantically against her chest. I press my palm against it to feel it. It reverberates through me like the steady thrum of drums.
“I think about the kiss. The first one, when we were in the lounge in the airport. I wanted it so bad. I’ve never felt that before. I’ve never wanted something that much.”
“And how did it feel when you got it?”
She shakes her head, trying to break eye contact.
But I grab her chin and force her eyes to mine. “No,” I growl. “You will look at me. Now, answer the question. How did you feel?”
“I felt… strange. Like I was floating out of my body.”
Rain patters against the leaves above us, but neither one of us moves.
“You still want me,” I tell her softly. “But you’re afraid.”
She nods slowly, not even bothering to fight back anymore. “Men like you… you’ll just use me and discard me. You’ve said as much yourself. For a year, I’m the most valuable thing in your world. And the day that year ends, I’m worthless.”
“Why worry about the future when you have now?”
She shakes her head and reaches up to push my hand away from her face. But instead, her fingers become entangled with mine.
“Because I’m not like you,” she whispers.
“No,” I agree. “You’re not like me.”
Maybe that’s why I can’t get you out of my head.
Her fingers are still entwined in mine. When she shivers, I feel it run through her entire body and then mine in turn.
“You’re going to destroy me,” she murmurs.
“Only if you let me.”
Confusion passes over her face. She has no idea what I mean. She doesn’t have the tools or the experience to understand.
Which means she’ll have to learn the hard way.
I push off the tree and leave her huddled against the tree trunk. When I take one slow step backwards, the curtain of rain swallows me up.
Olivia watches me the whole time, her eyes hungry and desperate. If I were the kind of man who wore my heart on my sleeve, she’d see that I feel the same. That this game we’re playing has grown far more tense than I ever anticipated.
That I am addicted to the woman I swore to break.
But despite the aching need pounding through me right now, I refuse to give in. I refuse to yield. I refuse to bend.
If she wants this, she’ll have to come to me.
And when I take one last look into her heartbroken eyes, I see my answer.
She will.
33
OLIVIA
I will not betray my family.
But the devil in front of me has eyes that beckon.
It’s more than just Aleks’s masculine beauty. It’s his confidence, his strength, his power. It’s everything that I’ve dreamed of while lying in bed next to the quiet, boring men I thought were all I was allowed to ask for.
I denied it to Mia before, but of course I chose safe men. Because safe is easy. Safe is safe.
Rain batters against him, soaking through his shirt. The contours of his chest become more visible through the wet fabric. His broad shoulders. His chiseled chest.
But it’s hard to focus on anything with his predatory eyes on me.
“Don’t flatter yourself that I want you,” I say, trying to infuse strength into my tone. “It doesn’t mean anything. It won’t last long.”
“That’s what I thought, too,” he rasps somberly. “But I can’t stop fucking wanting you.”
My jaw almost drops. It might be the first time he’s ever said anything of the sort. Ever admitted that the thoughts in my head aren’t crazy.
This might be crazy, yes—this mad passion, this unreasonable obsession, this stupid fake marriage—but I’m not crazy for thinking it exists. It’s real.
But I would be crazy if I let it continue.
I should leave. Run, don’t walk. The rain is cold and I’m starting to shiver. But I don’t want to turn my back on him.
I step out from under the shelter of the tree. “Jesus,” I gasp, shivering. “The rain is freezing. Aren’t you cold?”
He shakes his head. “They train it out of you.”
“The cold?”
“The feeling.”
I frown. “What does that mean?”
“It means you should go inside,” he sighs. “Before you get sick.”
“And I suppose you don’t catch colds, do you?” I ask. “That’d be too human for you.”
“They train that out of you, too.”
I shake my head in disbelief. “Sometimes, you don’t seem real to me.”
“I feel the exact same about you.”
“Like that!” I exclaim. “What the hell does that mean? Who says cryptic things like that every second of every goddamn day?”
Aleks just sighs again. “Come,” he says. “Let’s go back.”
We walk up the path towards the house in silence. I try to act like the chill isn’t bothering me. I try to be immune, just like Aleks. But my teeth are chattering by the time we get inside.
The moment the door is shut, Aleks starts stripping down. He removes his shirt first, discarding it on his tiled floors. Then he starts unbuttoning his pants.
“What are you doing?” I ask in alarm.
“What does it look like I’m doing? You better get out of those clothes, too.”
“I’ll wait,” I say. “You do realize the maids are around, don’t you?”
He raises his eyebrows. “It’s nothing they haven’t seen before.”
I frown despite myself.
He notices. “Something wrong, Olivia?”
“Of course not,” I snap. “I don’t care who’s seen you naked. It’s none of my business anyway.”
“Then why do you look like a jealous wife?”
My eyes fall to his boxer briefs, but I pull them up almost immediately. He’s well-endowed to begin with, but with soaking wet briefs… well, it makes concentrating on the task at hand really hard. No pun intended.
“I am not jealous. Nor am I your wife, remember? Not in any way that matters.”
He pauses, still dripping rain, and fixes me with a somber, dark-eyed look. “You’re mine in every way that matters, Olivia Makarova.”
I recoil, as if from the words themselves—right in time to get whacked in the back of the head with the as a maid comes bustling through. She screams, not expecting us.
“Oh! I am so sorry, sir—”
“Don’t worry, Megan,” he says with a familiarity that makes my skin crawl. “Just got caught in the downpour.”