Page 14

I sit for a moment in the bed, confused, groggy from sleep and still a little bit lost in the dream I was having about Avraam.

In my dream, he wanted me.

We were making wild and passionate love on a beach.

I sigh loudly, sipping my coffee, blinking away the stupid dream memories.

Where in the world is he planning on taking me?

A nervous flood of fear spikes inside me. Have I become too much of a burden and now he wants to get rid of me?

Between yesterday morning and then last night’s incredibly awkward tension—maybe he’s just over all of this. Maybe he’s planning on keeping me locked up somewhere else. What if he is planning to let someone like Royce watch over me?

Suddenly, I feel sick with fear.

I set the coffee down on the side table and climb out of bed.

I guess there is no delaying the inevitable. I will find out soon enough. And no matter what it is—it’s not like I have any control over it.

Pulling on a pair of dark denim jeans and a white sweater, I brush my hair up into a high, messy bun.

I will do my best to stay calm whatever happens.

It’s all I can do.

After I’m done in the bathroom, I head downstairs to wait for Avraam. He is already there, at the front door, looking down at his phone and organizing something.

“I’m ready,” I say nervously, stepping towards him.

“Ah, great, let’s get going then.”

He pulls the front door open and gestures for me to walk out of it.

The fresh, cool breeze hits me like a summer storm and makes me smile. It feels amazing to be outside. I have been trapped in that house for weeks and feeling the real sun on my skin, a soft breeze and the smell of petals in the air—it feels so good.

Avraam presses his hand against my lower back, making me realize that I’ve stopped walking and I’m just standing there with a stupid grin on my face. “We have to get going, Ruslana. Come on. Get into the car, please.”

He asks so nicely it brings up that trace of fear again. Why is he being so nice? He even made me a cup of coffee. Is he feeling bad about what he is about to do?

One of the security guards pulls the car door open for me and I duck into the passenger seat, sitting tensely, nervous for whatever is about to happen.

I could ask.

I could just flat out demand that he tells me what’s going on.

But I’m too scared to do that.

Just for the moment I can pretend that everything is ok and nothing bad is about to happen.

He starts the car, revs it a little and then drives out of the estate.

The mansion grows smaller behind us as we drive towards town.

It is so weird to be in a car after all this time.

I watch out of the window, enjoying the scenery and refusing to let myself think about anything at all.

Avraam pulls over and parks outside a beauty salon.

He walks around the car and opens my door for me. “Are you coming?” he smiles.

I climb out, following close behind him, wondering if I should run, but not finding the courage to do so. I remember how organized his office at home is—this is a man who has planned for everything. If I run—he knows how to get me back.

We walk into the beauty salon and two of the girls working there smile and say, “Good morning, sir.” At the same time.

“Ruslana, this is Rebecca and Leonora.”

“Hello. Pleased to meet you,” they say cheerfully.

“I’m showing Ruslana around a few of my businesses today,” he smiles at them, then wraps his arm around my waist and guides me to walk with him.

He’s showing me a few of his businesses? I can’t believe it. He is taking me on a tour of where he works. This is so incredible.

All of my fear and worry turns to excitement. He was listening last night when I spoke about how much I’ve taught myself. Maybe he was even impressed.

Well, this is my chance to impress him even more.

“A beauty salon—so you get a lot of cash payments, which makes it a good option for laundering the income from whatever business you are running downstairs,” I grin, as we walk down the stairs, no one else around.

He chuckles.

“That’s correct. What else can you tell me?”

“Because of the nature of the business upstairs, you have a lot of people coming and going all day, so when people come and go around the back as well, it isn’t suspicious.”

I chat openly sharing my thoughts and hoping that it is earning me some points with him. He is impressed. The smile on his face gives it away.

He walks me around the operation he is running downstairs. Smuggling. Everything looks familiar to me because it is very similar to how my brothers run things. I don’t feel out of place at all.

After the beauty salon, he drives me to a laundromat nearby. Another one of his businesses. I walk inside, determined to keep it up and continue to share my knowledge, but when a really cheerful older lady greets me so warmly and steps forward to give Avraam a one-armed hug, I am a little thrown off.

“Hello, sweetie. Avraam told me he was bringing a friend in, so I made sure we had cake to enjoy with some tea. I hope you two have time. I know how busy you youngsters are,” she grins.

“Ruslana, this is Betty. She’s worked with me for years.”

An older man comes out and looks just as excited to see us. “Ah, they have arrived. I’ll put the kettle on.” He steps forward to shake Avraam’s hand. “This is George. Betty’s husband. They go everywhere together. They’ve helped me start up a number of laundromats around the city.”

It’s so weird to walk into a laundromat and feel such an incredible welcoming. The people here are lovely. In the back, in the staff room I meet other people who work for Avraam. He explains to me that while most of his business—he keeps the front and back ends separate and the front-end staff don't know about the back end—with Betty and George they have worked for him for so long, so they know everything.

Because of that, they interact with the people working downstairs and everyone seems to get on with everyone.

George ushers Avraam out of the room, telling him he has to help him carry things. Betty and I are in the staff kitchen, getting the tea ready.

“So, sweet girl. Are you interested in business? Avraam said you were quite passionate about it.”

We chat for a little while about me and then I ask, “What is it like working for him?”

Her entire face lights up. “Working for Avraam? Oh my goodness. Anyone who gets a job with him is lucky. You know, at my age, it’s not easy to earn a decent amount of money. But he pays double the going rate for employees—and he gives us all of the benefits. We have the best health insurance, a good pension and both George and I get a very generous bonus on our birthdays and at the end of the year.”

She talks freely about how wonderful Avraam is and in all the conversation, I completely forget that I wanted to impress him, and I just relax and start to enjoy the company.

Soon the two men join us, with one or two of the workers from downstairs. They are such a great group of people and I can see how much love and respect they all have for Avraam.

After far too many pieces of cake and two cups of tea, we say goodbye to everyone and Avraam leads me up to his office at the top of the building.

I follow him in, happy and smiling, wondering why he did this for me. He could have just left me at home today, wandering around the house alone, but he listened to what I said last night and then he did this for me.

I don’t think he understands what it means to me.

My brothers never even paid that kind of attention to the things I said. When I told them I was interested in business and I was reading about it, they laughed—they didn’t go out of their way to give me a tour or teach me more.

This is so unexpected and it’s messing with my head a little.

Avraam closes the office door behind us.

“Are you enjoying your day, Ruslana? Your freedom? How are you enjoying it all so far?”

I grin, unable to hide my joy, “I really didn’t expect this, Avraam. Thank you so much for bringing me here. It means—a lot more than you think.”

I step closer to him. My heart tugging at me. The calm smile on his face is utterly gorgeous.

He is leaning against his desk with his hands resting on the table on either side of him. He looks so powerful. A calm, yet unwavering strength about him. I’ve only ever seen him at home. In the office he looks more commanding. The black suit and dark look in his eyes is making me lose control of myself.

I take another step towards him and he looks down at me. His eyes are focused and unwavering.

I want him. I shouldn’t.

I should stop this stupid thing before it happens. He is my captor. He is holding me prisoner. I should not be so attracted to a man who is this dangerous to me.

But I can’t help it.

I can’t stop it.

I never wanted him to stop the other day. And since then I have been desperate to feel him again.

Something about the way he is looking at me is telling me that he wants me too.

I rest my hand on his chest, standing up on my tiptoes with my heart beating wildly, I take a chance and press my lips against his.

He doesn’t push me away. Instead, I feel his hand drifting over my waist, around my back, and pulling me closer against his body.

I gasp, fueled by desire for him. It’s growing stronger by the second.

His kiss deepens and becomes more passionate.

He is holding himself back, though.

Does he still not want me?

Why else would he stop himself from being with me when I am practically throwing myself at him?

“Avraam—“ I whisper his name and a low growl rumbles through his chest, vibrating against me.

I wrap my hands around the back of his neck, not letting him pull away from the kiss.

He hasn’t made any other move, other than wrapping his arm around me.

I want to feel his hands everywhere on my body. I want more. I want all of him and I want him to take all of me.

I sigh in frustration.

He is turned on. There is absolutely zero doubt about that because his cock is pressing so hard against the seam of his pants that it’s threatening to tear them open.

I run my fingers softly over the bulge and he shudders.

“Ruslana—,“ he says cautiously. I pause. Waiting for him to tell me to stop or to leave him alone. I’m waiting for him to tell me that he doesn’t want this. But all I see when I look into his eyes is a battle. He is fighting for self-control. He does want this—but—I suddenly understand him—he doesn’t want to take something I am not willing to give freely.

All I have to do is let him know that I want this as badly as I do.

“Please, touch me,” I whisper.

His pupils dilate.

“You’re sure?” he asks.

“I want you to touch me, Avraam,” I say again, almost breathless with excitement.

He pulls me close again and slowly begins to explore my body with his hands. His touch sending shivers of delight through me, pulsing through my body like a river. When his hand brushes down my thigh and drifts between my legs I gasp and almost collapse against him.

It feels incredible. His touch is like a drug and I can’t get enough of it.