His heart in his throat, Luke glanced at the rear-view mirror again before pulling out his phone and hovering his thumb over the number Roman had programmed into his phone this morning.
“In case of an emergency,” Roman had told him, his expression unreadable. He had given Luke no reason to believe last night wasn’t a one off. Luke had wanted to ask whether Roman was coming tonight or not, but he hadn’t wanted to seem clingy. He didn’t want to be clingy. It was bad enough that he had been forced to ask for Roman’s help. It was bad enough that last night he had been gagging for it so badly that he had behaved like a teenager getting his first taste of cock.
But this surely counted as an emergency, right? It was completely reasonable to call Roman if a suspicious car was following him home, especially in the light of recent events, wasn’t it?
“Demidov,” Roman said when he answered.
“Someone’s following my car,” Luke said without any preamble, trying to ignore the silly butterflies in his stomach that appeared at the sound of Roman’s voice. He’s all wrong for you, he reminded himself. Wrong, wrong, wrong. He’s no Prince Charming. If anything, he’s the villain.
There was silence on the line for a moment.
Then, Roman said, “Drive home as usual. I’ll take care of it.”
He hung up.
Luke let out the breath he’d been holding, warmth spreading down his chest and curling in his stomach. “Don’t be stupid, Luke,” he whispered. I’ll take care of it wasn’t an equivalent of I’ll take care of you. Feeling tingly and warm on the inside every time Roman was there for him when he needed him was silly. It didn’t mean anything. It couldn’t mean anything with a man like Roman Demidov.
Not to mention that Luke shouldn’t want it to mean anything—not with Roman.
“Stupid,” he muttered and forced himself to focus on the minivan in the rear-view mirror. He wondered if he should be freaking out that after telling Roman about the car he felt completely calm now. He wouldn’t want to become reliant on Roman to always be there to swoop in and save the day. He wasn’t a bloody damsel in distress and Roman wasn’t his knight in shining armor. Maybe he should hire a few bodyguards, at least for the time being. Maybe.
The minivan followed him all the way home.
Luke parked in the underground garage and hesitated. He couldn’t see Roman anywhere. The minivan stopped, too. The garage was eerily quiet.
Swallowing, Luke got out of his car and headed for the lift. His footsteps echoed in the dimly lit garage.
Why weren’t there any people? Where was the nosy Mrs. Bale from the tenth floor when Luke actually wouldn’t mind talking to her?
There was the sound of multiple footsteps behind him.
Luke started walking faster, a heavy lump of disappointment growing inside him. Idiot. He had been an idiot to trust Roman.
“If you scream, you’re dead,” a harsh voice said as someone pressed a gun against Luke’s back.
Luke didn’t scream. He didn’t resist when hands grabbed his arms and pushed him toward the minivan—there was little point. He was shoved inside so roughly he stumbled and would have face-planted if a pair of hands didn’t stop his fall. A very familiar pair of hands.
Luke gaped at Roman, confusion and anger warring inside him. “What the fuck?”
The minivan’s door closed, leaving them alone in the semidarkness.
Roman let go of his arms and leaned back against the seat, leveling him with a distinctly unimpressed look. “I could ask you the same thing. It’s the second time my men were able to kidnap you without any effort whatsoever, you careless little idiot. Where are your bodyguards?”
Luke flopped into the opposite seat and crossed his arms. “I don’t have them. And I’d appreciate it if you stop calling me an idiot and explain to me why you kidnapped me—again.”
“It was a test and you failed it.” A muscle pulsed in Roman’s jaw. “I’ve looked over the files that you gave me. Do you have any idea how dangerous some of those people are?”
The heavy lump of disappointment loosened and disappeared. Luke hid a smile behind his hand. “You’re worried about me.”
Roman’s blue eyes flashed. Grabbing Luke’s arm, he yanked him toward him and gripped his throat. “Don’t you understand the meaning of the word ‘dangerous,’ you reckless, foolish boy? If those people get their hands on you, you will wish you were dead.”
Luke wet his dry lips with his tongue. “But I noticed the minivan, didn’t I? And I called you.”
Roman’s lips thinned.
“You know I’m right,” Luke said, meeting his eyes. “If they hadn’t been your own people, you would have come to my help.”
If anything, Roman looked even more pissed off. “Stop looking at me that way,” he grated out, his expression managing to be stormy and hungry at the same time.