Chapter Nineteen
Fate toyed with her, and the playful bitch did her best to yank every good thing in life out from under her. Rhia wiped at a rebel tear that slipped past the stronghold she shoved all emotion behind.
She pressed a palm flat against her stomach where a wealth of anger burned deep inside.
For once, couldn’t something go her way?
Rhia came to an abrupt stop outside the elevator and punched the down button.
I’m going to do filthy things to you? Tie you to my bed?
Her foolish lust-hazed words drifted through her mind followed by a shudder so similar to the one they drew from her it felt like an aftershock of the orgasm that consumed every pore in her body not five minutes ago.
And her response? God, how stupid she must have sounded. Tie her bosses to her bed? She wanted to bury her head in her hands and melt through the floor.
“Come on.” She punched the elevator button again. There were three floors. How long would it take this thing? Rhia stared dead ahead.
She didn’t belong here. Every second she stood there she could feel eyes on every part of her body in this damn dress.
She grew aware of Sevastyan before he came to stand behind her or the hand he placed on her bare back, his touch feverish against her chilled skin.
He muttered words in Russian she didn’t catch, but she knew damn good and well he’d felt the jolt of heat too.
“We need to talk.”
“What, no more foreplay. Just down to the demanding you do what I say part of the job?”
Her heartbeat rattled in her chest. She needed to shut the fuck up already.
Damn it.
“Is that what my sweet birdie wants? More foreplay?” He spoke softly, just for her.
Her lust. Her lies. His touch.
It all combined to make her head spin.
So much for a clean getaway. Did he have a tracking device on her? It was dark enough in here she thought he hadn’t noticed when she’d taken her leave from the private balcony.
She turned on the soles of her shoes, careful not to hook the tip of her heel in the carpet. The last thing she wanted to do was fall into this man’s arms. Again. Like a fool.
Head tilted, he watched her, his light brown eyes lit with a hint of fire.
“Yes, let’s talk because we were doing such a bang-up job of that before,” she whipped out sarcastically. She stared back at him, her lips parted.
“It’s time for you to leave,” Sevastyan said crisply, all notion of the intimate moment they’d shared evaporated.
She raised her hand in a mock salute when he backed off. “Yes, sir. I’m on my way out. You won’t have to worry about me anymore. This time I will collect my things.” What a fool she’d been in thinking she could do any better than the police in finding her father’s killer.
Sevastyan’s expression turned cool. He took her arm and pulled her in close, reawakening the fire she’d just stomped out.
“You’re always twisting my words to mean what you think you want to hear.”
She allowed her voice to lower. “Maybe you should stop and consider them before blurting out tone-deaf orders like a commanding officer. And what is that supposed to mean?”
Forget the elevator. She could do three flights of stairs. Her gaze traveled to the staircase off to the side that would take her away from here, away from him faster than some elevator. How stupid could she be? She knew better yet still fell under his spell like some wanton woman that needed a man.
She wavered on her last thought. She didn’t need a man, but she did need him. He was the last known connection she had to her father. Once again, she forced her head back where it belonged. One way or another he had the answers she needed. Keeping her hands, mouth, and all the other treacherous body parts to herself that reacted with the simplest of touches from him or the other dark kings just became mandatory.