Page 116 of Savage Lies

But right now, at this moment, we have privacy and safety and each other.

I don’t want regret or apologies. I don’t want to analyze how fucked up this is.

I want to choose him. Not as his victim or prisoner, but as a woman who knows exactly what she’s doing.

I peer up at him again and prompt, “Dmitri?”

“Yeah?”

“Come here.”

He goes very still, and I watch his throat work as he swallows. When his eyes meet mine again, there’s heat there that wasn’t present a moment ago.

He knows what I’m asking him for.

“You need to rest.”

I let out a chuckle. “I need you to stop treating me like I’m made of glass.”

He eyes me like he’s trying to decode my motivations. “Katya, you’ve been through hell today. You should sleep.”

“I’ve been through hell for two months. Sleep hasn’t fixed anything yet.”

He shakes his head and huffs out, “What do you want from me, Katya?”

What do I want from the man who destroyed my life and rebuilt it into something unrecognizable? I’m not certain I know the answer.

“Stop hovering like I’ll break,” I snap. “Touch me like I’m yours.”

“Youaresomething I’m afraid to break.”

“Why?”

“Because losing you once nearly killed me. Seeing you bleeding in Anya’s arms tonight finished the job.”

The pain that echoes behind every syllable nearly strangles me, and I have to force out, “I’m not going anywhere.”

“You don’t know that.” He shakes his head. “Tomorrow, you might remember that I’m the enemy and decide protecting yourself is more important than whatever this is between us.”

“This conversation is depressing as hell. Can we talk about something else?”

“Such as?”

I reach out with my uninjured arm and trace the scar that runs along his ribs. “Such as how you got this.”

His eyes follow my touch, and his Adam’s apple bobs again. “Knife fight when I was nineteen. The other guy aimed better than I gave him credit for.”

“And this one?” My fingers find another mark near his collarbone, but I don’t break contact as I move to it.

“Bullet. Three years ago, during a territory dispute that got out of hand.”

“You’ve lived a violent life.”

“Violence finds people in my business whether they go looking for it or not.”

I continue mapping the evidence of his dangerous existence while he watches my every move. When my fingers trace a particularly jagged scar on his shoulder, he catches my wrist.

“What about you? Any scars I haven’t discovered yet?”