Page 24 of Stolen Empire

Of course I understand.

I know perfectly what he's trying to say and it makes my core clench.

His hand loosens slightly, and I suck in a breath, but I don't move.

I can't move.

He's too close, too overwhelming, and every nerve in my body is screaming at me to run, to fight, to do anything other than stand here frozen against the wall.

But I stay pinned, watching him, and I see the flicker of something in his eyes.

Not anger.

Not cruelty.

It's darker than that, more dangerous, and it sends a thrill through me that I don't understand.

His hand slides from my throat, and he retreats, putting space between us.

I'm still pressed against the wall, my legs weak, and I watch as he crosses to the door.

He pulls it open, glances back at me once, and then he's gone.

The lock clicks into place, and I hear his footsteps fade down the hallway.

I slide down the wall, my knees giving out, and I sit there on the floor, trying to catch my breath.

My hands are shaking, and I press them against my thighs, willing them to stop.

My throat aches where his fingers were, and I reach up, touching the skin gently, feeling the phantom pressure of his grip.

No man has ever manhandled me before.

I've been around powerful men, dangerous men, and I've always kept my distance, always stayed in control.

But Dimitri is different.

He's not trying to prove anything.

He's not posturing or testing me.

He's simply stating facts, and the certainty in his voice makes it impossible to argue.

If he wanted to hurt me, he would have.

I know that.

I've seen what he's capable of, the way he moves through this place with absolute authority.

But he didn't.

He held me there, his hand around my throat, and then he let go.

And the worst part, the part that makes my stomach twist, is that I wasn't entirely afraid.

There was fear, yes, but there was also something that makes my stomach flip and be nauseated at the same time.

The way he stood so close, the way his breath brushed against my face, the way his thumb traced my jawline—it was deliberate.