Page 99 of Beneath the Light of the Moon

A gloved hand wrapped itself around the expanse of her neck, squeezing the rest of her sentence out. His muscular body pressed itself against hers, her sleep clothes making sure she felteverything,and the scent of rain had followed him in. The fragrance of petrichor clung to his damp clothing, wafting into her nose as she huffed in irritation.

“That’s too bad because I’m about to teach you oneright now,”he spoke again, fingers tightened in warning.

Although it was dark, Anika glared up at him as her teeth clenched in silent anger. She observed the dark shirt covering his skin, hiding the telltale tattoos she knew lingered underneath. And that wasn’t accounting for the black balaclava pulled over his head, concealing his face from her. But not his identity…

Only a sliver of his countenance was on display. His eyes.

And it was like her nightmares—her body frozen in time, her own gaze locked with his.

A flash of lightning swept across the sky outside, painting her foyer in bright, white light. It disappeared as quickly as it came, but she saw all she needed to.

Sun dappled forest floors.

Frost covered blades of grass.

Will I die with each of his fickle moods painted in the back of my skull in the form of his ever changing eyes?

“And if I refuse,” she finally managed, his hand still allowing roomfor her to speak.

“Anika,”his voice was deep, conveying authority, “this isn’t negotiable.”

“Why wear the mask?” His free hand came up and rested on the door next to her head, caging her in. “I already know who you are.”

“Is that so?” A smile was evident in his words even though she couldn’t see his mouth. “Is that why you didn’t run? Thought you could talk me out of it?”

“Talk you out of what?”

A clothed thumb ran over her bottom lip. “Getting what I want.”

She gritted her teeth. “I’m not following.”

“Don’t tell me your cleverness is slipping,malyshka.”

“YA nachinayu dumat’, chto tvoy,”she sneered.I’m starting to think yours is.“Pretty bold of you to come back here.”

A soft chuckle filled the space as he bridged the remaining gap between them. If her fluent use of Russian surprised him, he hid it. Her rage burned even hotter. A few stray raindrops dripped off his clothes, splattering onto her exposed skin.

“What can I say, something about this place feels likehome.”

“If you don’t get out, you’re going towishI shot you.” She reached for where he’d tucked her gun away.

The hand by her head snatched her wrist, halting her movements. “Not so fast, Anika. At least ask for my consent first.”

“You’re infuriating.”

Boots met the tips of her socks as he leaned in, unable to be close enough to her. Underneath the rain’s musk, she smelled his cologne—a wash of bergamot layered in smoke, leaving her feeling lightheaded. “Watching you press your thighs together at the gun range was infuriating. This tiny sleep set isinfuriating.”

Heat rushed over the surface of her skin, every exposed inch suddenly feeling vulnerable to his blatant perusal.

So he’d noticed that. Fuck.“Tiny is…subjective.”

“And so is obsession, yet here we are.”

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” she said, her body wiggling against his in search for space to slip through and run away. His muffled groan had her pausing, the movements way too close to somethingelse. “But Idothink you’re losing it.”

His laugh cemented her words. “Is that what you’re going to tell everyone when the details of Ivan’s death come to light?”

Her throat bobbed, his hands unmoving. “What? Maybe if you weren’t so busy obsessing over me, you could’ve found the actual perpetrator.”