Page 55 of Betrothed
Her laugh was biting. “Hardly. I’m far superior.”
“And how so?” I took a deep swallow of the cold beer, surprised how thirsty I’d suddenly become. Under normal circumstances, I could play this game for the remainder of the day. If only I didn’t feel as if a noose was slowly being descended from the rafters.
“You end lives. As a surgeon, I save them.”
“If you think about it, not much of a difference. We both get to decide who lives and who dies.”
She not only hadn’t thought about the analogy, but she also hated hearing it. Enough that her face began to fade into a perfect shade of rose. But the fire in her eyes would never be snuffed out. Something I both adored and admired. “Men like you could never understand the agony of knowing you can’t save a life.”
“Why is that?”
“Because you’re a mobster. Correction. You’re a monster. You can be dressed up in expensive clothes and fake decent manners, even while being highly intelligent but it doesn’t change who you are. A true, violent beast.”
She had no idea how close to the truth she was. “Zver’.” When she stood her ground merely narrowing her eyes, I shook my head. “In my country, I am called the beast. How intuitive you are.”
As she took a deep breath, I sensed her frustration growing. “That’s nothing to be proud of. I’m certain your parents are ashamed.”
“Are you trying to piss me off?” She was finding it difficult to keep a straight face.
“Is it working?” Amusement replaced disdain if only for a few seconds.
Even as she tried to skirt around me, I easily grabbed her arm, dragging her against my side. My grip was firm enough I knew I’d leave a mark. While ordinarily it was not my desire to bruise such delicate skin, she wasn’t taking this nearly seriously enough. “Make no mistake,moy dorogoy, I am a man capable of doing terrible things, some of which I’d prefer not to do whileothers are simply perks of my position. I suggest you learn to tell the difference.”
She shuddered even as she tried to pull herself free. Had the beer not been in my hand, I would tug her even closer, claiming her mouth as I’d done before. “As if I should care.”
“And I assure you, I’m not the mob. There is a significant difference in those calling themselves the mob and those who don’t need a title to function.”
“What’s the difference?”
I lowered my head, pressing my lips against her forehead. “We are that much more deadly.”
While her entire body continued vibrating, she didn’t say a word. But I could tell her mind was processing what I’d said. Perhaps thinking that I was issuing a threat.
Not with her.
That wasn’t my protocol because it didn’t need to be. I made statements that came true.
Her smile didn’t surprise me. Very little about her did. When she pulled away, she did so without looking me in the eyes. Although I had to admit, I was amused that she didn’t take a single step away from me, which in itself was a challenge.
I should consider her a formidable opponent as it was obvious to me she’d been educated in the ways and means of those within crime syndicates. Other than an officer of the law trained in the methods and tactics of such organizations, the only and perhaps best way of learning the ins and outs was being involved with one.
Her lower lip was quivering, her fingers tightly wrapped around the bottle, but she was otherwise composed. Filthy thoughts lingered, the very ones that had caught me off guard enough to break my own rules of engagement before. I wouldn’t mind fucking her sweet pussy once again.
I sensed the same thoughts attempting to drive aside her obvious hatred of me. Her body had already betrayed her. I knew the moment she shut down the lurid thoughts, anger returning.
“Would you like to see the house?” I interjected before the battle started again.
“Why not? Bars on the windows? Cages in the basement?” She was casual with her question, acting as if she’d just figured out a way to win whatever new battle that had formed in her mind. She had a way about her that created an aura of elegance while remaining cautious of everything around her.
A trait she’d learned from experience.
“Is that what you’d prefer? To be caged and used as I see fit?”
“In your dreams.”
As I crowded her space, we were both cognizant of the heightened spark. “I can make that happen.”
“Are you trying to frighten or disgust me?”
