“Vlad will,” Roman said, something cold flashing in his eyes. “He will behave.” He gave Luke a considering look. Then, he walked over and, sinking his fingers into Luke’s hair, held his gaze with an odd sort of intensity. “He will only bring you food. He’s not allowed to stay in the room longer than necessary. Understood?”
Confused, Luke nodded nevertheless. “Why are you telling me that? It’s not like I can kick him out.”
“I’ve had a talk with him,” Roman said, something faintly displeased about his expression. “But you can always remind him of my orders if he forgets about them.”
His eyes dropped to Luke’s mouth again. The grip on his curls tightened.
Luke’s heart started pounding. His face tilted up, his lips parting. Fuck, he wanted to be kissed so, so badly. He wanted to feel that beard against his chin. He wanted Roman’s tongue in his mouth.
Roman let go and stepped away.
Deflating, Luke watched numbly as Roman strode out of the room.
The door locked after him with an audible click.
Luke plopped back on Roman’s bed and groaned in frustration, touching his tingling lips.
“You’re such an idiot, Luke,” he said aloud before laughing.
It was either that or crying.
Chapter 11
“I told you to stay out of this room,” Vlad said when he brought him food.
Luke took the tray and ignored his words. In the past six days since Roman had left, he had perfected the art of ignoring Roman’s head of security. It wasn’t difficult. He didn’t know what Roman had told Vlad, but these days the beefy blond barely dared look at him when he brought him food. It was kind of funny how carefully Vlad avoided any eye contact. It was a stark contrast to the way the guy had behaved before: the look in Vlad’s eyes had used to make Luke uncomfortable whenever Vlad had visited him. Now the guy barely glanced his way, even when he scowled and berated Luke for something.
“He’ll be angry if he comes back and finds you here,” Vlad persisted.
Luke shrugged. “He should have locked the room from my side, then,” he said, turning on the TV and making himself comfortable against the pillows. The TV was the main reason he had been hanging out here more often than in his own room, choosing to ignore Vlad’s disapproval when he’d caught him in Roman’s room for the first time several days ago.
Although most channels were Russian, it was such a relief to have something to take his mind off the situation he was in—and the boredom gnawing at his senses.
Luke was a social person. He’d never been all that good at entertaining himself, and nothing had been happening. Sometimes he would see the guards laughing, drinking, and exchanging dirty jokes in the backyard. Sometimes he would hear distant sounds of drunken songs and laughter through the door. It seemed that with the boss gone, Roman’s men became far too relaxed and undisciplined. They never behaved that way when Roman was in the house. Luke was positive that if he hadn’t been locked up, he could have slipped away unnoticed. He could have escaped.
“You aren’t supposed to be here,” Vlad said.
Luke poured himself some coffee and sipped it, studying Vlad over the rim of his mug. He knew Vlad wanted him; he had noticed it from the first day. He was pretty sure Vlad was latent homosexual. He did consider using Vlad to escape, but the idea of seducing him turned his stomach. He couldn’t do it. Not only was he not attracted to the guy in the least, but he also felt anything but safe with him. Unlike Roman, Vlad could be violent without any reason. Luke remembered the sadistic gleam in his eyes when Vlad had watched the guards rough him up.
He had to be careful.
“I’m pretty sure it’s you who isn’t supposed to be here,” Luke said calmly. “You’re supposed to bring me food and then go. Your boss wouldn’t be pleased to find out you’re disobeying his orders.” Luke couldn’t deny it felt good to know that Roman’s orders were protecting him. Obviously Roman had some ulterior motives for giving such orders, but the fact remained that Vlad could do nothing to him. And they both knew it.
Vlad scowled and stormed out, muttering in Russian that Luke was going to regret it once Roman returned.
Luke chewed on his lip. Truth be told, he wasn’t all that sure Vlad was wrong. Strictly speaking, Roman hadn’t explicitly allowed him to hang out in his bedroom. Roman had simply left him in this room after…
Sighing, Luke set his mug down and started channel-surfing, trying to ignore the restless feeling under his skin. The time was dragging so slowly. It was Wednesday; Roman wasn’t supposed to be back until tomorrow, and Luke felt itchy with impatience. It was just…He felt like he was stuck in limbo, waiting for any news from the outside world. It had been almost three weeks since his kidnapping, and he had so many questions and no answers. He kept wondering what was happening to his family and friends. He was worried about James: his friend had been far too depressed to be left alone for so long. Was James even eating? And surely Luke’s father must know by now that he had been kidnapped. Had he been contacted already? His mother? Was there any ransom demand?