Page 6

I lead Quinn through the threshold of my home, her delicate wrists bound by cold metal cuffs.

She fights me every step of the way.

”What the fuck do you think you're playing at?” she snarls, her neck craning to give me a glare with furious eyes.

I nearly stop in my tracks. Even in her rage, she's breathtaking.

Yet I keep pushing her forward, knowing that we’re still too close to the door and any moment of weakness on my part would only make her run for it.

“Now, now, Ms. Desmond. Is that any way to speak to your gracious host?”

“Host? You fucking kidnapped me!” She lunges back against me to make me lose balance, but I easily predict and sidestep her attack.

“I prefer to think of it as... an impromptu invitation.” I keep my tone light, but my grip on her arm remains firm.

Quinn struggles against me, her slim body twisting and turning with surprising strength.

“Let. Me. Go!” Each word comes with an energized attempt to break free.

I tighten my hold, marveling at her fire.

Most women would be cowering in fear by now, but not Quinn.

“I'm afraid I can't do that, Darling,” I say, gently pushing her towards the stairs.

“You see, we have some rather pressing matters to discuss.”

She digs her heels in, nearly toppling both of us.

“The only thing I want to discuss is that you’re going to jail for this, you hear me?”

I try hard not to roll my eyes.

Jail? Is she seriously going there right now after I saved her life?

What a woman! ”Yeah?

And who's going to send me? You? I’ll take the risk until you’re no longer in danger.”

“I fucking hate you!” she hisses.

I lean in close, my lips barely grazing her ear. “You can hate me, alright. But you're staying put.”

She kicks back, her foot attempting to kick my shin. I wrap my arms around Quinn, pulling her tight against my chest. Her body goes rigid, but I can feel the rapid rise and fall of her breath. My own heart races at the proximity.

“Settle down, Quinn,” I murmur, my lips brushing the shell of her ear. “You're only making this harder on yourself.”

Quinn shivers, and I'm not sure why. It’s not anger. Could it be the same longing I feel? No, I tell myself firmly. I’m overreaching. The scent of her perfume fills my senses, making my head spin.

I feel her relax slowly in my arms, her back molding to my chest. It's subtle, but I notice every tiny shift of her body against mine. The heat between us is palpable and electric.

”Give me a chance to explain,” I whisper, thinking I have an opening now to convince her to comply with me.

She stiffens once more, as if suddenly becoming aware of herself.

I take a step back, releasing Quinn from my embrace but keeping my hands on her shoulders.

”Now,” I say, “let's talk about why you're really here.”

Quinn takes rapid breaths and cranes her neck again to listen as I lead her up the stairs. “Oh, please enlighten me. I'm dying to know why I've been kidnapped and manhandled by an arrogant asshole.”

I can't help but smirk at her fiery retort. God, she's magnificent when she's angry.

”Charlie Letvin,” I say, watching her face carefully. “Ring any bells?”

Her brow furrows slightly as she stumbles on the stairs. I quickly wrap an arm around her waist to hold her steady, and she looks up at me inquiringly, her lips parted for air. God, she looks so wretchedly beautiful in this moment.

”You know it was Letvin in my apartment?” she asks, her voice husky.

I lean in, my voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Let's just say your potential client Charlie has taken quite an interest in you and there’s nothing he wouldn’t do to make sure you’re his. And that’s not dangerous for the reasons you might think.”

Quinn's eyes widen for a fraction of a second before narrowing dangerously, but she keeps up with me as we head up the stairs. “What are you talking about?”

”You deserve to know the truth. That night, when I saw Charlie taking an interest in you, I couldn’t just walk away because I know what he’s capable of and who he is. I rescued you from his clutches that night, for sure. But something told me that wouldn’t be the end of it. I kept an eye on you for your security, to make sure you were truly safe. During that time, I learned about your work. I noticed you’ve had powerful clients from all walks of life, including some from unsavory backgrounds.”

”Unsavory backgrounds?” she asks, narrowing her eyes.

”The Bratva, the Mafia, drug lords. I think you’ll understand when I say that Charlie has taken a strong interest in you and that he leads a fucking awful unit of the Bratva,” I explain, enjoying the way her eyes widen in surprise. “And sweetheart, believe me when I say you don't want to find yourself caught in the middle of that shitstorm.”

“I didn’t know,” she whispers, shaking her head.

”Well, now you do.” We reach the top of the stairs and come to a stop. I gently release her shoulders and she turns to face me, her hands still handcuffed behind her.

”Look,” she sighs, trying to negotiate. “Even if he is Bratva, I can handle it. I have connections. Previous clients who could help me handle this.”

”No, I’m afraid you can’t. It’s personal. He has it out for you and there’s nothing your previous clients can do about that.”

”And why is that?” Her voice is cautious, picking up on what I might say.

”Because,” I run a hand through my hair, “after I declared you my fiancée, Charlie’s desire for you has most likely escalated. There’s nothing he enjoys more than watching me lose, and he’ll find a way to have you prove to me that he’s won again. This has gone beyond his interest in you; it has turned into something darker.”

Quinn's face flushes with rage as she shudders. “You bastard,” she hisses. “This is your fault. Why did you have to tell him we were engaged? If you hadn't stepped in with that stupid declaration that—”

“I know,” I raise my hands in a placating gesture. “I wasn’t thinking beyond helping you in that moment. I wasn’t thinking straight. But look, I'm here to help you now.”

She laughs, a sharp, bitter sound. “Help me? Your grand plan made me a target for a Bratva mobster, and now you’ve had the audacity to kidnap me!”

”Quinn,” I say, rather frustrated at why she isn’t understanding that I did what I did for her. “Extreme circumstances call for extreme measures. Would you have come willingly if I'd asked?”

Quinn's silence is all the answer I need.

”Look,” I say, running a hand through my hair, “I have a solution that'll keep you safe and Charlie out of your hair. We just need to—”

”No,” Quinn cuts me off, her green eyes flashing with determination. “I don't need your help or your ‘solution’. I can handle this myself.”

I can't help but let out a sarcastic chuckle, which only seems to infuriate her more. “Quinn, you have no idea what you're up against. Charlie's not the kind of man you can reason with over coffee.”

She takes a step towards me, her chin tilted up defiantly. “I built my business from the ground up. I've dealt with my fair share of difficult men.”

”Not like this, you haven't,” I counter, my amusement fading. “This isn't a game, Quinn.”

”Oh, I'm well aware,” she snaps. “But you already made the situation bad enough, so there’s no chance I’m going to trust you now.”

She turns to her side, one step in front of her, reaching for the stairs.

”Hell no!” I growl, sliding my hand around her stomach and pulling her back until her ass is rubbing against my cock. Fuck, her hair smells divine, and for a brief moment, I close my eyes, savoring the feel of her against me.

But she still struggles in my arms, and I force myself to remember that she isn’t mine for the taking. She’s simply here so I can protect her, and whatever effect she has on me needs to be blocked out now. I picture Charlie’s face and grunt in her ear, ”Don’t you dare try to run.”

She tries again, but I grip her firmly and pull her backward down the hall, toward the room. I can feel my jaw tighten. Her stubbornness is both infuriating and strangely appealing. “Your way will get you killed.”

”Let me go so I can clean up this mess,” she enunciates each word like a slap.

I feel my control slipping, my voice rising to match hers. “And what exactly is your brilliant plan? March into Charlie's office and demand he leave you alone? He'll eat you alive!”

”At least I'll die on my own terms,” Quinn shouts back, her chest heaving.

I take a deep breath, forcing myself to calm down. This isn't getting us anywhere.

”Quinn,” I say, my voice low and intense. “You're staying here. That's not negotiable.”

Her green eyes flash with anger. “You can't just—”

“I said I have a solution, and if you’d only listen, we can put this madness to an end.”

“I don’t want to hear a thing you have to say!” she shrieks, her voice echoing down the hallway.

”Fine then! Have it your way. But you’re staying right here until you’re willing to hear me out. This is for your own protection, Quinn!” I say, and kick open the door to her room. I turn her around to see it and let go of her.

”Your accommodations, Ms. Desmond,” I say, unable to keep a hint of sarcasm from my voice.

Quinn doesn't respond, her eyes fixed straight ahead at the room as I reach for the key to unlock her handcuffs. The metal falls away with a soft clink, and I watch as she immediately rubs her wrists with relief.

”Was that really necessary?” she mutters, flexing her fingers.

I shrug, pocketing the cuffs. “You didn't exactly give me much choice.”

Her eyes narrow. “Don't expect a thank you.”

”Wouldn't dream of it,” I reply, fighting back a smirk. “Get some rest. We'll talk more in the morning.”

I barely have time to step back before Quinn's hand shoots out, gripping the edge of the door. Her emerald eyes flash with defiance as she glares at me.

”Don't count on it,” she hisses.

The door slams in my face with enough force to ruffle my hair. I hear the lock click immediately after, followed by the muffled sound of her heels stomping across the room.

I can't help but chuckle, despite being frustrated. “Stubborn little firecracker,” I mutter, running a hand through my hair.

For just a moment, I lean against the wall opposite her door, staring at the polished wood, wishing I could see through it. The memory of Quinn in my arms, her body pressed against mine, floods my senses. I can still feel the warmth of her skin and the curve of her ass.

”Get it together, Zolotov,” I growl to myself, pushing off the wall.

***

I toss and turn in my bed, the sheets tangling around my legs like restraints. Sleep eludes me, and my mind is a chaotic whirlwind of strawberry-blonde hair and fiery green eyes. Quinn's defiant glare haunts me, and her words echo in the stillness of the night.

”This is ridiculous,” I mutter, punching my pillow.

I sit up, running a hand through my disheveled hair. The clock on my nightstand mockingly displays 3:27 AM. Fantastic.

“It's just for her safety and my benefit,” I tell myself, pacing around my room. “Keep her close, keep her safe. Besides, I need her to help me take Charlie down a notch or two. I’m going to put him in his place, and she’s going to help me do it.”

Though the words leave my lips, I know they're a lie. The way my heart races when I think of her, the electric charge I feel when we're close—it's more than just strategy.

I pause at the window, staring out at the city lights. “She's eleven years younger than you, for Christ's sake,” I growl. “And she hates your guts.”

But the rational part of my brain is quickly drowned out by the memory of her scent, the feel of her body against mine as I held her still.

”This is going to be a problem,” I sigh, leaning my forehead against the cool glass. “Nothing good can come of this.”

As dawn breaks, I've made a decision.

I'll keep Quinn close and protect her from Charlie, but I'll maintain my emotional distance.

It's the only way to keep control of the situation.

But as I hear movement from the guest room, my pulse quickens.

This situation is going to be the death of me.