Page 20 of Beautiful Secrets

It reminds me too much of the dumb waiter Vanya and I played in when we were young and small. We used it as our own private elevator. Until the day the rope broke, and I fell two stories and broke my ankle. We were so scared to tell our parents, it was Vanya who helped me out and got me up to my room. She tried to splint my foot, but then it started turning blue, and we had to tell our parents.

Especially when I kept passing out from the pain.

Once the doctor had come and gone, and my foot had been encased in plaster, only then did my mother dare tell my father what had happened.

God, I was glad to be on pain relievers that night because we both got hidings that left us bruised for days.

A few weeks later, Lev arrived.

He has never left my side since.

Back then I thought it sweet of Father—how much he must have cared for me to give me a bodyguard. Years later it became clear that I was nothing but an asset to him.

He couldn’t marry off a daughter in a cast, now could he? It was her husband’s prerogative how and when his wife got her bones broken. Just like it was his decision alone when she would lose her virginity.

Those sour thoughts twist my mouth as I turn around and move a little closer to Cole, trying to keep the gun in my pouch aimed as close to something vital as possible. It is not easy, seeing as he is more than a foot taller than me, but I manage.

As he pulls the gate closed, a hotel employee glances our way.

Thankfully, the elevator closes before she gets close. My eyes flutter as I breathe out a silent sigh of relief.

I will never admit it to this Scot, but I am thankful for the detour. Never in my life have I felt this grimy and conspicuous. If this is the reaction I get in a hotel foyer, what would the airport have been like?

I can barely remember our family’s trip to Scotland. We’ve been here for over fifteen years. If what Cole is saying about airport security is true, then—

“Know what I like about this elevator?” he asks, snapping me out of my thoughts.

“Hmm?”

“No cameras.”

That is the only warning I get, and I am so caught up in my dour thoughts that I don’t even take heed.

Cole’s hand slithers inside my hoody’s pouch, grabs my wrist, and yanks it all the way through until it is sticking out the other side. There is a stab of pain in my wrist, then my fingers go numb.

The gun falls from nerveless digits, but he snatches it up so fast I barely have time to register what is happening.

The next moment, I am flush with the side of the elevator, Cole’s body pinning mine.

“Too easy, little lady.” He presses the gun into the bottom of my chin, forcing my head up. I flinch when he tucks my hair behind my ear. “Now, how about we take this party upstairs?”

On cue, the elevator ascends.

The higher it goes, the lower my stomach sinks.

We are close enough to kiss, and I would be powerless to stop him if he wanted to.

But when his hand slides between us and dips down, lower and lower, my heart starts knocking against my ribs again. I don’t know what is worse—the intensity in his jade eyes, or the way his lips quirk up when I try and move away from his hand.

He grabs the edge of my hoody and pushes it up. I gasp when his fingertips brush against my skin. But instead of shoving his hand behind my sweat pants, he slips into my pocket and pulls out my passport and the wad of cash I put in there.

The gun presses a little harder into my chin. He lifts my passport and flips it open with one hand, holding it beside my face like he’s checking if it’s really my photo.

“Mika Vasiliev, twenty-six,” he drawls in his thick accent. He puts the money and my passport into his pocket and gives me a wicked grin that sends a shiver down my spine. “Why, I don’t believe we’ve met. Let me introduce myself.”

Cole dips forward, putting his lips an inch from mine as he searches my face with a savage look in his eyes.

“I’m your daddy’s worst nightmare.”