Page 79 of Arranged Control

I study her carefully. She’s in a pair of pajama bottoms and one of those silky tops I love so much. It clings to her body, draping over her curves, making the swell of her breasts outlined in the soft fabric.

“Want to talk about what you were doing out in the hallway in the middle of the night?”

“Not really.” She looks down at the floor. “Probably better if we just moved on with our lives.”

“What were you doing, Alina?”

She hesitates. I want to say more.I don’t want to move on with my life. That’s the whole problem. But I keep my mouth shut. That’s the opposite of what I’m trying to do. The more distance I put between us, the safer she’ll be.

“Finn was spying on me again today. Did you know about that?”

I tilt my head slightly. “No, I didn’t. And you were standing outside my room so you could tattle on my brother?”

“He said something to me.” She sits back down on the edge of the bed, clearly fighting not to look in my direction. I’m aware of how close to being totally naked I am, and I drift closer to her.

“What’d he say?”

“First, he nearly hit me with his car.”

My eyes narrow. “I’m guessing not on purpose.”

“It was my fault, honestly. But after we got past that, he said he was just looking out for me and that I shouldn’t give up on you.”

Frustration swells in my chest. Fucking Finn poking his nose where it doesn’t belong. I’m trying not to feel anything for Alina while he’s going around telling her this stupid crap.

“I don’t even know what that means,” I say with a gentle snarl.

“You’ve been weird lately. Don’t pretend like you haven’t been.”

I say nothing. What’s there to tell her? She’s absolutely right, and I’m not about to lie to her face.

She looks at me and blows a breath from her cheeks. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. You have nothing to say like always.” She stands, shaking her head. “Sorry, this was such a stupid mistake. You can go back to bed. I’ll be fine.”

She moves to the door, and something inside of me cracks. Some resolve splinters, and I’m walking after her. I should be light as a feather right now. I should be drifting along without a care or an attachment in sight. Instead, I’m an anchor, and she’s my ocean, or some shit like that.

I catch her wrist. “Wait,” I say, not really sure where I want this to go or what’s about to happen, but it’s the touch that does it.

The feel of her skin melts something.

Breaks it in half, more like.

Physically, violently.

She looks back at me, and her expression is pleading. It kills me, the desperation in her eyes.

“What did Molchanie say to you?” she whispers.

“She threatened my family.”

Her expression softens. “Oh, Seamus. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”

“How would you?”

“But why are you pulling away from me?” Her face screws up in confusion. Then she looks at me in surprise. “She threatened them because of me, didn’t she?”

I nod slowly. “She told me that if I don’t leave you, she’ll kill someone I care about. She gave me a week. That was three days ago.”

Her face goes pale. “What are you going to do?”