“I know.” His eyes were honest. “I had to have you, and I wasn’t thinking about anything else.”

I noticed it wasn’t an apology. If he could do it all over again, he still would. He lowered to kneel by the edge of the bed, bringing our gazes level. There was nowhere else I could look but at those intense, deep eyes. Maybe I could take some comfort in the fact that his life had changed, too. He was saddled with me now, at least until his father ordered him to kill me. Then he’d have to carry the weight of my death forever.

“I’m not going to be easy for you,” he said. “As much as I try not to be, I’m like my father. Most of the time I don’t give a fuck about feelings, and I expect you’ll hate me like I hate him.” His voice was weirdly hypnotic. “But your hate will fade until you can learn to live with it. You won’t even notice it after a while.”

I gave him a wary look, conveying how unpersuasive his sales pitch was.

“Maybe,” he continued undeterred, “one day it’ll change from hate into something . . . different. We got a hint earlier of what you and I could be like together.” His lips met mine, brushing in the briefest of kisses. “Just a taste.” His teasing mouth lingered a breath away. “I want more. You can tell me you don’t, but I said no lies.” His eyes darkened from a flat black to a rich, layered one. “I can give you anything you want, including your freedom.”

The familiar tremble he caused in me was back, shaking my foundation. I needed to know who I was surrendering to, and my voice was a ghost. “Have you ever killed someone?”

“No.”

I blew out a long breath.

His emotionless mask cracked and darkness seeped out at the edges. “I came very, very close once.”

It was clear he wasn’t talking about our episode in the bathtub. The temperature in the room plummeted and goosebumps pebbled on my bare arms. “I’m going to be a doctor. I want to save lives, not take them. I can’t be with someone who could do that.”

The air swirled around us and thickened as he considered my statement. His voice was sharp. “I haven’t, but the world’s not all black and white.”

“And I’m not halfway in love with you,” I blurted out. “You raped and drugged me. What you did at dinner—”

“Was to save your fucking life. One word from my father and Michael would’ve been standing behind you with his gun. You’d have been dead before your head hit the table.”

It was surely true, but I couldn’t deal with the reality this was my life now. Yesterday my biggest worry was if I’d secured enough scholarships. Today it was whether or not I’d survive the night.

He didn’t appear to be lying to me. His pupils weren’t large and his breathing was steady. Had his actions really been to prevent my death as he claimed?

“I’ll never love you,” I said.

A tiny voice whispered in my head, telling me I’d just given Luka a challenge, and I’d done it on purpose. The sick part of me wanted him to rise to meet it. And when his eyes flared with interest and the side of his mouth tugged up, I knew I’d made a terrible mistake.

“Yeah? We’ll see.”

Chapter

Fourteen

Luka was summoned back downstairs, and left me alone in the room, stating he’d be back in a minute. Obviously this was a test. If I ran, I’d made my choice. A bullet from his father’s bodyguard would end it, and no one would know what happened to the smart, yet abrasive Addison Drake.

If I stayed in the room, he’d return and assume I’d also made my choice, picking him.

Not that there was a choice to be had, but I struggled against it. I needed time and space. I was angry. So goddamn angry, I wanted to pull my teeth out. He deserved to feel that same anger. I needed him to understand.

What I’d said to him was true. I wanted to save lives. I’d spoken candidly with Dr. Gupta once, and he’d talked about the kick after leaving the OR, knowing he’d just completed a successful surgery. It was powerful holding someone’s fate in your hands, and the feeling was addictive. Was that how I was to Luka? Was he high off of controlling my life?

Like a tumor that was slowly killing a patient, I want to excise the bad part of him. I needed a weapon. Something small he wouldn’t see coming until it was too late. Something small, and sharp.

There was nothing under the bathroom sinks except for paper products. My razor was suspiciously missing from my shower supplies. The only artwork on the wall was a canvas, so there was no glass to break. I stared at the huge mirror in the bathroom. He’d hear me break it, and could be on me before I could get a shard free to wield.

Tags: Nikki Sloane Sordid Erotic
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