Page 62 of Konstantin

I should make some attempt to fight it. But I don’t. Because there’s nothing I want more than her.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

KONSTANTIN

She sleepslike she didn’t just watch me blow a man’s brains out and barely blink.

Yet she’s breathing steadily beside me. Like I’m not the nightmare people pray they never meet.

My arms are still wrapped around her, spooning her from behind, her body warm and soft against mine. My palm rests in the center of her chest, and I feel the slight jerk in her fingers, little signs that she’s dreaming.

I’ve never held a woman like this. Never stayed after. Neverwantedto.

It’s always been about the act. A release. A transaction.

But this? This is something else.

And every day, I discover myself through her. It’s more than a gift. It’s cathartic. I don’t think she realizes how much she’s given me in such a short period of time.

I bury my nose in her hair, letting her scent ground me. She smells like vanilla and skin and something like peace, laced with ruin. My chest tightens, the weight of her against me almost too much to bear.

If she knew I was still awake, knew I was holding her like this, she’d shove me off in a heartbeat. So I keep still. Just a man holding a woman in the dark, pretending the world outside doesn’t want to eat us alive. And for a few minutes, it works.

Until the floor creaks a close distance from outside of our room.

Someone is inside the penthouse, and I already know my men stationed outside are dead. I curse myself for not hearing them come in.

That’s what happens in my world. Enemies lurk everywhere, trying to rip every shred of peace I have.

My instant worry is for her, the beautiful angel in my bed, and how I can best protect her.

“Tessa.” I shake her. “Wake up.”

She stirs, but doesn’t open her eyes.

“Tessa, wake up and grab the gun in the drawer beside you.”

Her lashes flash open. “What?”

I tilt my head toward the sound. Another thud.

“Gun. Now,” I whisper. “Can you shoot?”

“Yeah.” She blinks quickly, grabbing the handle of the drawer. “My brother taught me.”

That’s a relief. She needs to know how to protect herself.

I slide out of bed, silent on my feet, while she gets to her feet, gun in hand, her body tense. Grabbing her hand, I kiss her knuckles, staring deep into her eyes like this may be the very last time I get to look into them, and the thought rips me apart.

“Get in the closet.” I point to the walk-in. “And stay quiet.”

“What the hell is going on?” she breathes as another creak comes closer.

“Someone’s come for me.” The Glock is already in my hand. “Idon’t want them finding you. Get the hell inside and don’t come out, no matter what you see or hear.”

She hesitates, like she wants to argue.

“Tessa. Go. Now!” I keep my voice low, wanting the element of surprise.