That’s why I need to get far away, and that planning needs to start now.
Wrapping a silk robe around me, I head for the door of my room and step out into the hallway. Miraculously, there are no guards standing watch. I imagine it has more to do with the elaborate security system throughout the mansion, rather than any trust in me, but I still say a silent prayer of thanks.
Moving through the quiet halls, I retrace my steps towards the library. I’m hoping I will find a clue to tell me where we are. I’m sure I’ve smelled the tang of salt in the air, as if we’re near the ocean, but not the busy Brighton Beach shoreline that I’m used to. This air is cleaner here. Considering the brief flight from Oleg’s estate, I’m confident we’re somewhere on Long Island, likely in the Hamptons, which means it’s possible for me to escape by foot. As isolated as this place seems, Long Island is tiny. If I could just find a map of the area, or blueprints of the house—something, anything to help orient myself, it would make a big difference.
My slippers are soundless as I carefully pick my way through the halls to find myself in front of the tall doors to the library. I’m surprised I haven’t bumped into a guard roaming around, but even if I did, who could fault me for needing a book to help me sleep? It’s a rock solid excuse.
As I enter the library, my gaze is pulled to the solid wood writing desk in the corner. I know this is not Andrei’s main office, but Natalia has mentioned he enjoys working here occasionally. Swallowing the ball of fear in my throat, I walk towards the desk and try the top drawer. As expected, it’s locked. I hurriedly check the bottom drawers of the desk, and they are all locked as well.
I pull my robe tighter around me, casting a searching look around the room. I approach the shelves, scanning to see if I can find a book that might hold a clue to where we are. The books are meticulously organized by subject. There is a section for literary classics, art guides, even cookbooks, and then on a lower shelf under the picture window is a section for outdoor and recreation. One guidebook in particular catches my eye. Pulling it from the shelf, I find it’s a sailing guide to Long Island Sound.
I drop to my haunches and nearly laugh out loud with giddiness. I was right! We are on Long Island and this guide might be the key to finding out exactly where. Flipping through the pages, I search for any pencil markings or notes in the margins that could provide clues.
“Krasotka.” The vibration of Andrei’s low voice washes over me. “What are you doing here?”
I freeze, my blood solidifying in my veins as his shadow dances along the floor.
Fuck. Of all the people who had to find me…
“I couldn’t sleep,” I gulp. “Bad dream.”
My mouth goes dry when I get a glimpse of him. Moonlight leaks through the soaring windows, illuminating his muscular chest peeking through his open dress shirt. He’s abandoned his blazer, his tie loose around his neck, a whisky glass in his hand.
“Is this how you relax after having a bad dream? Reading sailing guides.”
I stand to meet his gaze head on. “Yes. I happen to enjoy sailing.”
He laughs heartily at that. “I’m sure you do.” He bends, bringing his lips against my ear. His voice is practically a sensual purr. “What were you hoping to find in the library, krasotka? Are you looking for a way to escape from me?”
“Of course not.”
“Don’t lie to me. It will only make it worse when I punish you.”
Heat floods my core. Logically, I know he’s the enemy—he abducted me, demanded my obedience, and much worse—yet the sight of him overwhelms my senses, awakening a dormant need inside me.
He lifts his head, and I see an answering hunger in his amber gaze. His eyes rake down my body, hot and possessive, admiring my every curve hugged in silk.
“I suppose it’s normal to think of escape. Even when it’s impossible.” He looks like he almost feels bad for me, but I know better than to believe his false sympathy. “What should I do with you?”
“Let me go.”
“Make me.”
Anger becomes my best friend, exploding in my chest. I back-up, desperate to get away from him, but he reaches out and grabs my wrist. His hand is a shackle, holding me in place. I struggle to get him to release my arm, but his grip remains as strong as iron.
A slow, evil smile builds on his face. “Enough talk of freedom. What do you really want?” He looks down at my sheer nightdress. “The other day, you wanted more from me. You craved it. The proof was all over my fingers.”
He’s right, and I can’t fight him anymore. I’m dying for him, and he knows it. His eyes darken, and he pulls me towards him, his tongue gliding over the seam of my mouth, sucking at my sensitive lower lip. Heat washes through me and my lips part for him. He releases a low moan of satisfaction, plunging his tongue into my mouth, tasting me, conquering me.
His taste is intoxicating, and nothing else matters right now. It’s just him and me, and that crackle of white hot electricity that snaps between us.
My insides go liquid as my nipples harden. Every cell in my body is attuned to him and what’s going to happen next.
* * *
ANDREI
Before I give in to Georgia, I need to know what she’s thinking. Because the last time this happened between us, she was soaked in regret afterwards.