Well, it was worth a try.
Luke put on his best puppy-dog eyes and looked up at the other man from under his eyelashes, letting his exhaustion and fatigue show on his face. “I’m starving,” he said softly. “If you don’t want me to get sick, you should feed me better. I have low blood sugar. I feel sick and dizzy if I don’t get to eat properly.”
There was no flicker of remorse on Demidov’s face. “You’re alive,” he said curtly. “That’s the only thing I care about. A weakened captive is less of a hassle.”
Nice.
Refusing to give up, Luke bit his lip and dropped his gaze. “Okay.”
Silence.
He waited with bated breath, but with every passing second it was becoming increasingly obvious that this man was as cruel and unfeeling as he looked.
“You didn’t answer my question,” Demidov said, laying his large hand on top of Luke’s head gently.
Luke went motionless, not daring to look, not daring to breathe. There was something about that gentleness that unsettled him to his core. He knew very little about this man, but one thing he knew for certain: he didn’t have a gentle bone in his body.
“I d-don’t know what you expect me to say,” he managed, fighting the wave of dizziness brought by fear. He stared down at his bare toes. “I know nothing about my father’s dealings with you. He tells me nothing. He didn’t know I went to meet you. I had no idea what I was getting into when I decided to go in his stead.”
The long fingers carded through his curls ever so gently.
Luke couldn’t breathe.
The fingers tightened before yanking his head up by his hair. Hard blue eyes bored into his. “Do you expect me to believe this?”
“You’re hurting me,” Luke said, letting tears well up in his eyes. He managed to make his bottom lip tremble. “I’ll tell you everything I know, I swear.”
The painful grip on his curls didn’t lessen one bit, but Demidov’s gaze flicked down to Luke’s wobbling lip. The look lasted a fraction of a second, but Luke didn’t miss it.
Oh.
He dropped his gaze again as a new thought occurred to him. Luke truly hadn’t intended to go this route—a part of him couldn’t even believe he was seriously considering it—but…But. He wasn’t a damsel in distress. He refused to be a damsel in distress and timidly wait to be rescued. It was his own fault that he had acted recklessly and gotten himself in this predicament. Not to mention that his father was going to skin him alive if he had to pay some outrageous money to ransom him. Yes, Luke had screwed up, but it was still his chance to prove to his father that he could handle tricky situations by himself. If he could manipulate this powerful man, he would more than prove to his father that he wasn’t useless, that he was smart enough and resourceful enough, that he could be trusted.
But could he do it if a mere look from this man made his knees weak with fear? If a pseudo-gentle touch made his heart pound and his breath ragged?
Luke lifted his gaze to the other man again. His stomach tied in knots when his eyes locked with Roman’s. The Russian wasn’t unattractive. Far from it. He was ruggedly handsome, with his short, dark hair, straight nose, and his square jaw dusted with dark stubble. His name suited him: he reminded Luke of the warriors of Ancient Rome. He was very fit, his shoulders wide and powerful under the black turtleneck he was wearing, his arms and chest thick with muscle. If the guy hadn’t been so tall, he would have looked beefy. As it was, he just looked like a perfect killing machine. There was a quiet, carefully restrained aggression in his body language, something lethal and dangerous. Although Luke was of perfectly average height and build, he felt small next to this man. Breakable.
Luke moistened his lips with his tongue.
The painful grip in his hair tightened, yet Roman’s voice was very soft. “I want answers. Now.”
Luke took in a deep breath, trying to shake off his nerves. Roman Demidov was just a man. Just a man like him or James. All right, maybe not like him or James, but still. Every man, no matter how hardened and clever, was susceptible to a bit of manipulation and persuasion. He just had to find the right approach.
“I’m telling the truth,” Luke said quietly, keeping his tone open and naive. “I got the email by mistake. I went to meet you without telling my dad because I wanted to prove to him that I was mature enough to be involved in the family business.”
Roman snorted derisively.
Swallowing the biting remark that came to mind, Luke said, “You don’t take me seriously. Why do you think my father is any different?”