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“I want to see you,” Samantha whispered, attention snapping back to Natalia’s face. “I miss you.”

Three little words robbed Natalia of her carnal desire. All the warmth spreading in her body abruptly retreated and reassembled in the pit of her stomach. But it wasn’t just anxiety and revulsion at the unexpected tenderness. Something broke free from the roiling mass and fluttered into Natalia’s chest. Something horrifyingly pleasant.

“Another sentiment that could have been most unobtrusively shared in a text,” she said, trying to sound disaffected and unafraid despite the unease surging up her esophagus like acid reflux.

“Is that what I’m doing, Natalia? Bothering you?” Samantha was a wolf with her jaws clamped around her throat. Her gaze was too intent. Too sincere.

“Don’t keep your new ivory tower waiting, Professor,” she said as unhurriedly as she could, despite the pulse pounding in her neck and the slick sheen of cold sweat racing over her skin.

Before Samantha could utter another destabilizing word, Natalia hung up. Heart thumping, she lay awake in the dark, staring up at the ceiling. A heavy silence suffocating her, broken only by the distant sounds of traffic outside her window.

The unfamiliar weight of loneliness pressed down on her chest, trapping her in place. Taking advantage of her altered state, the sensation slithered into her chest and amplified the hollow ache.

Shutting her eyes, Natalia reminded herself that she barely knew the woman. She couldn’t miss someone she didn’t know. Couldn’t yearn for someone she didn’t care about beyond securing a business deal.

As if her own psyche had turned against her, desperate to prove her wrong, her traitorous thoughts turned to Samantha. To the easy way she laughed. To the near palpable passion she exuded while speaking. To the way she seemed so perfectly at ease around her… like she didn’t mind Natalia’s thorns. Maybe even appreciated them. Respected them.

Turning onto her side and pulling the covers over her body, Natalia refused to feed the flutter in her stomach. Absolutely refused to even acknowledge it.

The ache persisted, forcing Natalia to reason with the terrorist. She just hadn’t had sex in a while, so she was focusing on the last person she’d slept with. That was all. She was sure that all she had to do was sleep with someone else. A palate cleanser.

Natalia reached for her phone, intending to download a dating app. It wasn’t her preferred method of finding a bedmate, but times were verging on desperate.

She opened the app, swiping quickly through photos to find someone suitable. It shouldn’t be so hard. Natalia wasn’t picky. She just needed to find someone taller than her with masculine flair. Someone with intense top energy who would challenge her for power until the very end. Who would make Natalia feel like she’d earned it when they finally yielded to her. Someone delusional enough to think they could handle her. How hard could that be?

An hour later, Natalia had thrown her phone across the room and was staring up at the ceiling despite the darkness. This was dangerous territory she was venturing into, like walking out on thin ice. She’d sworn off intimacy, barricaded her heart against just these kinds of risky longings.

How was Samantha slipping under her defenses? She shut her eyes so tight her vision filled with a million tiny points of light. Worse than Samantha slipping in was the horrifying realization that she wanted her to win the siege.

Natalia shoved away thoughts of Samantha. She would not give in to weakness. Would not be ruled by errant emotions. She was the mistress of her fate. Her heart belonged to her alone. No one could make her surrender that which she was unwilling to surrender.

She breathed deep, steeling her resolve. This was a fleeting fixation. She was just drawn to Samantha because she was hard to hold. It would pass. Her walls were untouchable, her armor without flaw. She need only remind herself of that truth.

Squaring her shoulders, Natalia focused on each breath until they came slow and even. The strange ache gradually released its hold on her. She would sleep now. And in the morning, this disturbing night would be forgotten. Balance restored. Loneliness vanquished.

All was just as it should be.

CHAPTER 24

On the last day in March, the skies opened up and dumped every drop of water that had ever been collected for all time. And all of it was apparently aimed anywhere Natalia was driving.

Behind the wheel of the Jaguar she’d had detailed that morning when she should have just flushed the money down the toilet, Natalia screamed at the moron in front of her who didn’t know how to treat the broken streetlight like a stop sign.

“It’s your turn to go!” Natalia shouted uselessly. Even if the dumbass couldn’t hear her from her car, the rain landing around them like mortar shells would certainly drown her out.

Laying on the horn, Natalia honked and cursed until the person who’d learned to drive on some distant planet finally moved. A little rain on the road and power outages and felled trees and people absolutely forgot how to drive.

She checked the time on her dashboard when she pulled onto the highway, which was at a dead stop. Cursing, she hit the contact for the beauty salon to tell them she’d be late to her hair, nail, and body wax appointments. They knew she’d tip very well for the inconvenience of holding her appointment, but she could have done without the receptionist’s comment about scheduling the appointment at four in the afternoon on a Friday. As if Natalia hadn’t lived in Miami her entire life and missed the flaw in her own plan.

As soon as she arrived at the salon, she was whisked away and descended upon. She’d have to have multiple services going on at once if she had any hope of being on time.

Usually, the worst part of getting an annoyingly named Hollywood wax — which left nothing behind — was the indignity of spreading her cheeks for a sixty-year-old grandmother named America. This time, she didn’t only have America in her business, she had a terrified looking manicurist holding up two equally hideous dresses.

“When you look at me, darling, do I scream I’m at this belorio for the long haul?” Natalia slipped her hand under her knee and pulled it close to her chest so America could get in either a nook or a cranny — she couldn’t tell. “I’m going to dinner. Not a funeral.”

The girl stared back at her with panic-stricken eyes, dresses still held up to her face. “Well, the lady at the boutique asked me your age, so she could pull some?—”

When America stopped mid-rip, her head snapping toward the girl, she halted. It was obvious she had no idea where she’d taken a misstep. Useless tears welled up in her eyes, forcing Natalia to take a deep breath while America yanked off another strip of wax.