I listen for a moment but hear nothing. A laptop is open on the dresser with a tiny green light shining at the top.
A camera.
He’s monitoring me, possibly from his desk downstairs.
Gospodi, how long have I been asleep? I try to swallow, but my mouth is dry.
I lift my head and try to appear pathetic as I focus on the tiny dot on the laptop screen. “Maykl? I’m thirsty.” I don’t exaggerate my desperation. I actually trust that he will come. “I need water.”
Just a few minutes later, I hear him enter the apartment. I hear the clink of a glass, then a faucet runs. When he comes in, he stands over me with a glass of water in his hand.
He wears a wicked smirk, and instead of bringing the water glass to my lips, he twitches the blanket down to reveal my naked form. “Valkiriya. I like having you chained to my bed.” He cups the back of my head to help lift it as he brings the glass to my lips.
Water dribbles out both sides of my mouth when he spills it too quickly. He dries it with his thumb. “Do you need to use the bathroom?”
I nod, and he pulls out the key to the handcuffs and fits it in the lock.
I consider fighting. I could take him by surprise the moment he unlocks my wrists. I have my strength back completely. I’m no longer softened by the drug and the sex and the vulnerability he wrenched from me yesterday.
Our gazes lock, and I know he knows exactly what I’m thinking. His movements still. He’s ready for any attack. I probably wouldn’t win against him although he’s reluctant to hurt me, which I could use to my advantage.
But then, I might be reluctant to hurt him, too, now.
“I’ll be good,” I murmur, realizing that it’s true.
For the moment, anyway.
He says he knows where Mika is. I think I believe him. And, also, I’m…not hating my captivity. If I bide my time, there may be an easier way to get free.
That’s what I tell myself. It’s not that I want to remain Maykl’s prisoner indefinitely. Not at all.
He releases the cuffs from the bed and tips his head toward the bathroom. I use the toilet and wash my face. When I emerge, he’s not in the bedroom.
I do a quick sweep of the room, looking for a weapon. There aren’t many. The bedside lamp, perhaps. But once more, I choose against fighting. Just note it for use in the future, if necessary.
And for some reason, I’m feeling more and more that it won’t be necessary.
I find Maykl in the kitchen. He’s poured Life cereal into a bowl for me. He adds milk and offers a spoon. I sit in the same place as yesterday and eat with my manacled hands. It’s not easy, but not impossible, either.
I decide not to complain. I’m being good for him. Seeing where that gets me.
Every moment that goes by, I sense the impending sense of disaster. Soon, the FBI and Stepanov will arrive, and the bratva will be waiting for them. Considering the FBI will think I’m a double agent, I can’t count on either side protecting me when it goes down, and that’s a problem. Even more of a problem? I’m starting to align myself with the bad guys. I’m becoming that double agent.
When I finish eating, Maykl takes me back to the bedroom, where he chains me, spread eagle in the center of his bed. A feverish heat blooms, just at the position.
Knowing he put me in this position for his pleasure.
He traces the curves of my body with a heavy-lidded gaze. “Did you like telling me all your deepest fantasies yesterday, Kira?”
“I didn’t tell all of them.” I say it like a dare. Like I want him to find out the rest of them.
He takes my bait. “Then I will have to pry the rest of them from you.”
My pulse skitters. Belly flip-flops with excitement. “How?”
“I’m going to make you beg and plead and scream, little warrior.” He tweaks one nipple between the knuckles of two fingers. “But I think that’s what you want, isn’t it?”
“Nyet,” I lie.
“We’ll see.” He’s smug. Very sure of himself. The secrets he stole from me gave him confidence.
A sliver of warning rings through me. I believe this man is sane. Not sociopathic. But I may have given him more credit than he deserves. After all, he is a killer, and he works for the bratva. He may have a very skewed sense of right and wrong.
Also, just because he doesn’t want to hurt me doesn’t mean he’ll ever let me go.
He pulls the covers completely off me and crawls between my legs. His breath feathers hot across my lady bits.
He presses a chaste kiss to the apex of my nether lips, and a shudder of desire rolls through me.