Turning onto my side, I reach a hand out to her neck and let my fingers brush over her throat. “There’s a price to pay for my protection, Princess,” I whisper. I let my fingers trail down her chest, passing between the curves of her breasts and down to her hip. Pulling her closer, I push my other arm under her head and turn her body into mine. I take in the feel of holding her, and then, I murmur, “The only payment I’ll accept is your body, heart, and soul.”
Never before in my life have I wanted a woman the way I want Winter Hemsley. I want to own her fiery temper. I want to possess her wild spirit. I want to dominate her body, forcing her to submit to me… and only me.
A growl escapes my throat as my arms tighten around her. The wild emotions almost overwhelm me, but I yank back and push her away from me. Winter rolls limply onto her back as my breath explodes from me.
Blyad'.
I can’t give in to my desires. They’ll derail everything I’ve worked for.
My loyalty belongs to Carson, which means there’s no place in my life for a woman.
With every muscle in my body wound tight, I keep staring at Winter. This night. It’s all I’m giving myself. I’ll drink in her beauty and the soft sound of her breaths.
Knowing better, I still lift my hand again and reach for her.
Just tonight. Then I’ll ban all thoughts of her from my mind. I’ll get my shit together and focus on Carson.
Wrapping my hand around the side of her waist, I pull Winter back to me. Knowing this is all I’ll allow myself to have, I lean into her until I can feel her breaths warming my lips. I take a deep breath, filling my lungs with her soft scent.
As I wrap my arms around her, I close my eyes and try to memorize the feel of her body pressing against mine.
I lie awake through the night, and with every hour I get to hold Winter, my emotions deepen, opening up a bottomless cavern inside my chest.
By the time the sun begins to rise, and Winter’s lashes flutter open, I feel murderous.
Her green irises focus on my face, and then her eyes widen with shock. Before she can start fighting me, I pull away from her and get up. I stalk to my closet and take a rashguard shirt and pair of shorts from it.
“What am I doing here?” Winter tries to demand with a sleepy voice. I hear her move off the bed. “God, my head,” she mumbles.
Turning to face her, the words leave me in a low grumble, “You were drugged by Blanco. He and Lamas had you pinned down in your room. I brought you here so you’d be safe while the drug worked out of your system.” My eyes lock on her wide ones, and I watch as her shock grows. “Which means you owe me, Princess.”
Her tongue darts out over her dry lips, wetting them in a nervous action. “How much?”
I let out a dark chuckle as I drop the clean clothes on the bed. Shaking my head at her, I murmur, “I don’t want your money.”
Winter begins to move slowly toward the door, and it makes the corner of my mouth lift slightly.
“What do you want?” she asks, sounding a little breathless.
My eyes lock with hers. “I’ll let you know when I’m ready to claim my payment.”
I watch as her features tighten with worry. Her owing me puts me in a position of power, and she doesn’t like it one bit.
“Leave.” The single word is clipped before I walk into the bathroom so I can shower.
For a moment longer, I feel Winter’s eyes on me, and when I look to where she was standing, she’s gone.
Chapter 10
WINTER
I rush to my room, and shutting the door behind me, I make sure to lock it. When I turn around, I take in the overturned furniture and the blood on the floor.
What the hell happened last night?
I try to search my memory, but the last I remember was heading downstairs for dinner.
Damien said Vince drugged me, that he and Hugo attacked me. Damien intervened and took to me to his room?
I don’t remember any of it, and now I’m in his debt. God.
Waking up in Damien’s bed with his face so close to mine… the memory makes heat flood my body. When he climbed out of bed, and I got a look at his bare chest and the low-hanging sweatpants, I almost pinched myself to make sure I wasn’t dreaming.
No, Winter. Focus.
The more I try to make sense of what happened, the more my head begins to pound with a headache. It feels like I have the hangover from hell.