Page 59 of The Russian's Arranged Pregnant Bride

“Then stop acting like it.” Her voice rose, sharp and defensive. “Stop watching me like I’m a criminal. Stop interrogating me. Stop—”

“Stop caring?” I cut her off, my own frustration bubbling to the surface. “Is that what you want? You want me to stop giving a damn about what happens to you?”

“I want you to trust me!”

“Then give me a reason to!” I shouted back, my control finally snapping. “Tell me the truth, Cassandra! Tell me what you gave him!”

“I can’t!” The words exploded out of her, desperate and broken.

Silence crashed down between us.

She stared at me, her chest heaving, her eyes wide and glistening with unshed tears.

“I can’t,” she repeated, her voice barely a whisper now.

My heart hammered against my ribs. “Why not?”

“Because if I do….” She swallowed hard, her hands trembling. “If I do, you’ll hate me.”

The pain in her voice—raw and terrified—made something crack inside me.

I took a step forward. She took a step back.

“Cassandra—”

“Don’t.” She held up a hand, her voice shaking. “Just…don’t.”

But I couldn’t stop. Couldn’t let her run from this. From me.

I closed the distance in two strides, and she reacted on instinct, pushed me back, her palms flat against my chest.

“Don’t touch me,” she said, but there was no conviction in her voice.

I caught her wrists, held them gently but firmly. “Stop running.”

She pushed again, harder this time. “Let me go.”

“No.”

“Drew—”

“No.” I pulled her closer, my grip tightening just enough to keep her from pulling away. “I’m not letting you run. Not this time.”

She struggled, her breath coming in ragged gasps, her eyes blazing with anger and fear and something else I couldn’t name.

And then, like a dam breaking, she shoved me as hard as she could.

I let her. Let the momentum push me back a step.

But I didn’t let go.

Instead, I pulled her against me, my hand sliding into her hair, and crushed my lips onto hers.

She gasped against my mouth, her body going rigid for half a second before she melted into me. Her hands fisted in my shirt, pulling me closer even as she tried to push me away.

Anger and desire merged in the heat between us until it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began.

Her lips were soft and desperate, her body pressed against mine like she was trying to disappear into me. I kissed her like I was drowning and she was air, like if I let go, I’d lose her forever.