Tears of Betrayal

Even though I’m living a nightmare, I can’t ignore the beauty around me. The air is fresh, and birds chirp from the treetops, and it has a calming effect on me. I find the highest boulder from where I can see the mainland, and the sight gives me a sinking feeling.

I’ll never be able to swim that distance.

I glance over the lake, hoping to see someone out on their boat, but there’s no one.

Letting out a sigh, my thoughts turn back to yesterday. I don’t understand the flash of disappointment I felt when Demitri said I was just a job.

It’s because it will be easier for him to kill you if he doesn’t see you as a human being… an innocent woman.

I need to change the way he sees me. If I can’t escape, then maybe I can make him care enough that he won’t be able to kill me.

It feels like an impossible task.

He had no problem tossing me around and tying me up, so the chances of making him see me as a woman are probably next to nothing.

Glancing over my shoulder, I stare back at the impressive mansion.

God, I’m at Demitri’s mercy, and I’m not sure he has any.

My thoughts keep alternating between the fear gnawing at my insides and my will to survive… to fight until the very end.

I can’t just sit and tremble with fear.

I have to try.

Walking back to the house, I look through every room except for the one I was held in. I don’t find anything that might help me escape. I’m walking through an entertainment room, sparing the bar a glance. Coming to another door, I peek inside, and then my eyebrows shoot up into my hairline.

Oh. My. God.

Demitri’s busy doing sit-ups, his lower half resting on a bench while his upper half moves without any effort on his part. There’s zero strain on his muscles, which tells me the man is much stronger than I thought.

Crap, I can’t even manage ten regular sit-ups.

Even doing a workout, there’s a wave of danger emanating from him, and I can’t deny how freaking hot he looks.

My eyes practically devour every inch of his golden skin, glistening with sweat while his six… no… eight pack tightens and contracts with every sit-up.

Holy hotness.

Suddenly Demitri sits up, and reaching for a towel, he wipes behind his neck as he rises to his feet. My eyes glide greedily over his abs, and then there’s one hell of a spark of attraction when I see the curved muscles of his hips that lead to sweatpants… and a bulge.

My mouth grows dry, and my skin warms as my abdomen clenches from the sight. My gaze roams up his body again and then locks on his eyes.

Instantly a blush creeps up my face from being caught red-handed blatantly staring at him. I dart away from the door and walk through the entertainment room as quickly as I can while suppressing the urge to slap myself.

Stupid, Ariana! Freaking drooling over your captor. Seriously? This isn’t some captive romance.

Feeling a little mortified that Demitri caught me staring, I drop down on the couch and switch on the TV. My eyes are glued to the screen while I strain to listen for any movement from the gym's direction.

I dare a glance to my right just as Demitri comes into the living room and almost sprain my neck to snap my eyes back to the TV.

Luckily he doesn’t say anything, and I wait a couple of seconds before I dare another glance, just in time to see him head up the stairs.

Still shirtless. The muscles of his back rolling beneath his skin.

Damn.

I shake my head hard and force my eyes back to the show I’m watching.

Stop, Ariana. Yes, he’s hot as hell. Emphasis on ‘hell.’

I take a deep breath, doing my best to ignore the overwhelming attraction I feel toward Demitri.

He’s dangerous and deadly and from another world. He kidnapped me, humiliated me, and hurt me.

Don’t forget that. Ever.

Chapter 8

DEMITRI

After showering, I change into a pair of cargo pants and a t-shirt, then sit down on the corner of the bed.

Catching Ariana, watching me with curiosity and desire on her face, is the last thing I expected. She obviously feels the attraction between us, and I’m starting to think it’s something I can use to my advantage. If I play on her emotions, then maybe she’ll stop being so damn worried that I’ll kill her. It might make her forget her fear, and she’ll stop fighting me every fucking chance she gets.

A weird sensation skitters through me. Guilt. I’m not one to play games, and using a woman is not something I’m comfortable with doing.

But still, it might solve the problem and make things easier while we’re both stuck here.

Or just more complicated.

Fuck.

Processing the new development, I get up and head downstairs. As I walk into the kitchen, Ariana’s standing on her toes, and stretching her body, she tries to reach a box of cereal. I come up behind her, and the second she becomes aware of me, she spins around. Her hands come up in a defensive move, her palms slamming against my chest. I ignore her reaction and take the box of Fruit Loops from the cupboard. As I set it down on the counter, I lower my eyes back to Ariana. She’s watching me with wide eyes, her cheeks quickly growing pink.