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CHAPTER 14

For the next two hours, I sat stewing, getting more and more nauseated. I had still been buzzed all morning, and now my hangover hit me with the force of a freight train.

I'd banged on the door, calling out, "I'm sick, Sevastyan! I need to take something." He hadn't come. So I could do nothing more than curl up on the bed, stomach roiling. I was mustering the energy to go hold vigil at the toilet when the door opened.

Sevastyan said, "He's here."

I sat up, and the room started to spin. I half-heaved. "I'm sick."

"Uh-huh. Of course you are. And right when the doctor arrives? How fortunate that we can get him to take a look at this other ailment." He grabbed my arm, forcing me to stand.

I tottered. "Sevastyan . . ."

He gazed down at my face, scowled. "Fuck." He released me. "Go."

I sprinted for the toilet, and skidded to my knees just as I started vomiting. The bastard was right behind me, leaning in the doorway.

"Go away!"

The champagne smell made me heave again and again, until I felt like I'd thrown up bottles of the stuff.

Finally he left.

I emptied my stomach till I was too exhausted to do more. Somehow I made it to my feet and flushed the toilet. I used his toothbrush, then threw it away. I felt grimy, and I couldn't lose that sickly sweet champagne scent.

If I tried to take a shower, would I fall asleep under the water? I should fall asleep there.

I tossed a towel to the floor, turned on the rain showerhead, then sat with my knees to my chest. This was working! My nausea eased as sleep stole over me. I leaned my head against the wall, and I was out. . . .

"What the hell are you doing?"

I blinked up at Sevastyan. How long had I slept? He looked furious, as usual.

He turned off the water, plucking me from the shower. He roughly dried me off, then dressed me in another T-shirt. "Get this over with, then I don't care what you do."

"Are you happy now?" I demanded of Sevastyan when the doctor left.

I'd agreed to let the Miami "Gyno to the Rich" administer a morning-after shot and insert an IUD to prevent fertilization. Was that the Russian's idea? He was that paranoid?

He calmly sat on the living room couch. Though rain threatened, he had all the doors and windows open. "Happy? No. Satisfied that your plan won't work? Da."

Having some strange man examine me was bad enough, but Sevastyan had stayed in the room! He'd been there when the physician had said things like, "Definitely could've conceived," "Somebody certainly had a vigorous night," and "What a tiny cervix; this will hurt."

Sevastyan hearing that stuff was worse than the pinch of insertion. To add insult to injury, the two men had talked privately afterward. About my body!

I held out my palm. "I want my phone back. I wish I could say it's been nice knowing you. . . ."

"You don't get off this easily. I've mitigated the damage, but now you'll pay for your crimes. You'll stay here until I decide what to do with you."

"You can't just keep me!"

"Watch me. A deceitful little girl like you needs to learn not to fuck with a dangerous man like me."

"You know what? Consider the phone a parting gift." I grabbed my purse, coat, and shoes and bolted for the door, yanking it open.

In the lobby, Vasili spoke with two other suited men, holsters visible.

Though I expected them to stop me, I reached the elevator call button, pressing it repeatedly.

Nothing happened. I pressed it again. I had a sinking suspicion I'd now need a key to get off this floor. I turned to the stairwell, shoving on the door. Locked?

In broken English, Vasili said, "No leave." The other two were impassive, like statues. Zero help there.

I marched back inside to Sevastyan. "You can't do this!"

"Why not?"

I hurried to one of the room's phones, pressing nine for an outside line. "I'm calling the agency. Anthony won't allow this!"

"None of these phones will call outside the hotel. No Wi-Fi, no Internet. No communication for you. Oh, and Anthony? He couldn't sell your body to me fast enough."

"En serio?! Hijo de puta cabron!" I pinched my brow. "I'll figure out a way to get free of you. Unless you plan to chain me up twenty-four/seven."

He grew very still. "Do not forget that I possess the means--and the inclination--to bind you in my bed."

His script equipment. "What will it take to make you believe I didn't try to deceive you? I would never have a child with someone like you. Much less plot to do it. And I would never scheme to get my hands on someone else's money!" To myself, I murmured, "This isn't happening." I paced. "Look, you need to understand some things about me."

He leaned back against the cushion. "I can't wait to hear this."

"I've never had so much champagne and didn't know it would hit me like that. I don't remember what I said, but I wouldn't have told you I was on birth control."

"Why weren't you?"

I stopped pacing, deciding to reveal part of the truth. "I haven't had sex in a long time. You're my first client."

"If you wanted me to believe you were a novice, then you shouldn't have acted like such a professional. When you spread your legs to me, purring, 'How do you like variety now, querido?' I wondered if even I might be out of my league with an escort like you."

"You are my first! Ask Ivanna! She'll tell you. She sent me here in her place because she had a reaction to Botox, and I needed the money. I almost backed out."

He gave a bitter laugh. "You mean your first client--in Miami? I hear from your agency that you're a pro from Tampa! Not to mention that Anthony had you booked into infinity before I bought you."

"You can't buy me; I was never for sale!" Spanish left my lips, every vile curse word I knew. "If you didn't want to get trapped, then why did you come in me? Why not protect yourself?"

"I wanted no barriers. Which I discussed with you in advance! I should've known something was off when you didn't try to charge me extra!"

Burn. I balled my hands into fists. "What will it take to make you see reason?"

"Your name."

I sucked in a breath. "Jamas." Never.

"Then prepare for a stay."

"How long?"

"In my world, when someone tries to steal from another, they are punished severely."

In my world too. At least with Julia.

"You'll remain until I'm satisfied you've paid for your greed."

Sevastyan would probably get tired of me in a day or two, tops. The novelty would wear off. But if it didn't, the most my captivity could last was another ten days. He was leaving town, then going back to Russia.

To bad weather, Cat. On the bright side, I was safer from Edward here than practically anywhere. Now that I was stuck in Miami till New Year's, the tower began to feel like a bastion.

Never would I have imagined that staying with a Russian mobster and his armed henchmen would be my safest play. Not only that--I'd be staying in the most expensive hotel room in Miami. No creepy supe rubbing himself while leering at me. No cans of cheap soup, leaking roofs, and rough thrift-store sheets.

My biggest fear had been that I would fall for Sevastyan because the sex was so great. Now that he was showing his true colors, that wouldn't be a problem.

I narrowed my eyes at him and thought, Oh, no, Ruso! Don't throw me in this briar patch!

I decided then that this would be my retreat--in both senses of the word. I'd bide my time and recharge. This problem had an endpoint to it, was on its way to being settled. Which meant I could handle it.

"It looks like you've got me," I said airily.

He frowned at my change in demeanor. Sevastyan had just acquired a "prisoner," and the joke was on him.

CHAPTER 15

I sat in my new room--adjoining his, naturally--trying to recall more. No matter how drunk I'd gotten, I wouldn't have told him to come in me; was he making it up as an excuse to keep me?

Right before the shit had hit the fan earlier, he'd been pissed that I'd had other things to do, supposing I was about to go away with another man. Then all of a sudden Sevastyan had a reason to keep me indefinitely? Que coincidencia.

But I couldn't remember last night, and attempting to only made my head hurt worse. Though I was no longer nauseated, I was wiped out, my temples pounding.


Tags: Kresley Cole The Game Maker Erotic