“Skittish?” I wrinkle my nose. “Ouch.”
He sighs. “You are adorable.”
“Double ouch.”
The light turns green. We pull into the intersection. “See? I am already fucking this up.”
On impulse, I reach over and lay my hand on his arm, fascinated when his whole body shudders at the simple touch, his white teeth flashing. “Tell me. I won’t grow more skittish.” I twist my lips. “I can’t promise I won’t get more adorable.”
He laughs softly and my skin prickles deliciously at the sound. Ooh. Am I flirting? I’m not terrible at it. My mother must have passed on her skills.
“Margaret…” He makes a right turn and the glittering nighttime harbor comes into view ahead, but I only spare it a brief glance because, oh my God, the tips of his ears are red. “I cannot describe what happened inside me when you walked into the room earlier. You made my cock hard, yes, I won’t lie about this. But I knew right away…your spirit is one to be protected at all costs. It is a beautiful one and I’m humbled you’d trust me with this mission.” His Adam’s apple bobs. “There was an angel in my midst and I’m just enough of a bastard to be greedy for all of her.” The leather on the steering wheel creaks again. “I want all of you.”
The air has completely left me, but it takes every ounce of my willpower not to squirm in my seat. I can’t decide if I should climb into his lap and grind out another orgasm—classy—or throw open the passenger door at the next red light and run for my life. This man is the kind of intense that doesn’t quit. We’ve only known each other for an hour…and already, I don’t think he’ll ever let me go. On one hand, that excites and comforts me. On the other, I know too well what it’s like to be trapped. I don’t feel that way now, with Lenin, but what if I do in the future? This was supposed to be my escape, but I’m already in a man’s web.
I swallow hard as his huge bicep shifts under his jacket sleeve.
What a sexy web to be stuck in, though, right?
“There are hotels in the Harbor. Nice ones. We could stay for tonight.”
Now I’ve got even more questions. “You can’t take me to your place?”
His hard face remains stoic. “Time for a change.”
My stomach sinks. “You’re not married, are you?”
He scoffs. “Nyet. I don’t even own house plant.” His gaze lands on me. “Now I have a girl to look after. Very ambitious of me.”
“Maybe you should have started with a parakeet.”
Lenin shakes his head. “You make me want to laugh, Margaret.”
“Why don’t you just laugh, then?”
He considers this for a moment, then makes a punctuated ha ha ha sound that sound more like spaced out cracks of thunder. “How was that?”
“We’ll work on it.”
A minute later, Lenin pulls up alongside a tall, stone building with ivy climbing up the side. He exits and hands his keys to a man in a blue jacket marked Valet. Then he opens my door and assists me to the curb. The night air is cold and blows my old, loose T-shirt around—which I changed into while packing in a hurry—but before I can shiver, Lenin wraps me in his suit jacket and pulls me into an embrace. The shoebox I’m holding is wedged between us and I wish it wasn’t there. He’s so incredibly warm and smells like chimney smoke floating in winter air. I’d like to wrap him around me and sleep for a thousand years.
It’s scary how much he makes me want to let my walls down.
Where did he come from, though? Why was he in the club tonight?
He tips my chin up and kisses my forehead, distracting me from my worries. “We’ll check in to the hotel first, then go find somewhere to eat. Da?”
I nod and let him continue to hold me. Maybe I’m being complacent or too gullible, but I just want to live the next few hours without fear. Fear I’m going to get kicked out onto the street, fear I won’t be able to scrounge up a meal. Fear in general. Lenin is giving me that and if I’m a fool to take it, so be it. I’ll go back to being a cynical jerk tomorrow.
Lenin holds me against his side as we enter the hotel lobby and I’m glad he covers me, because I’m way underdressed for this place. It’s got a mile-wide chandelier, sparkling floors and giant flower arrangements. Staff bustle through with luggage carts and piano music drifts softly through the interior. Lenin keeps me by his side as he checks us in to a room and requests my things be taken to our room. About ten minutes later, we’re walking across the street toward the many restaurants that line the harbor. “Kind of presumptuous of you to book only one room, Lenin,” I say, giving him a mock stern look. “I don’t suppose it had anything to do with me getting naked and climbing all over you earlier.”