Page 93 of Victor's Lethal Desire
"No, but I thought..." I stop myself. "It doesn't matter. I'm so glad to see you."
He brushes the hair out of my face, and my eyes finally focus on him.
"Well," he says, "I couldn't let you get kidnapped and have all the fun."
I smile, staring into his eyes, his face illuminated by the flashlight.
"Well, you're late. You missed some good times."
He leans down, his face inches from mine.
"Yeah. That's okay. I'm only here for you. And for this."
He kisses me.
Despite my heavy arms, I lift them and wrap them around his neck, pulling him closer.
His lips feel like heaven, and his stubble against my face is something I want to feel every day.
We break apart, and I smile.
"So, what's your plan to..."
Before I can finish, we hear footsteps running toward us.
27
VICTOR
Dimitri's men are regrouping. I cut the power and took out the guards, but there are more coming.
I run over, grip the edge of the door, and slam it shut with every ounce of strength I have. The heavy steel crashes into the frame, rattling the hinges, and I slide a deadbolt into place.
I exhale, my chest heaving, and turn back to Danika. She's leaning against the cabinet, her arms wrapped around herself, her shoulders hunched forward. The dim glow of my tactical flashlight, still lying on the floor where I dropped it, casts harsh shadows across her face. Her blonde hair is a mess, tangled and damp with sweat. She has clear marks across her face where they've no doubt hit her. Every bruise is catalogued in my brain for when I kill Dimitri.
But despite everything, she looks beautiful.
"Can you fight?" I ask, my voice rough as I force myself to focus.
She straightens, rolling her shoulders back with a wince. Her jaw tightens, and she meets my gaze.
"Always."
"That's my girl," I say, picking up my flashlight and pulling a spare pistol from the back of my waistband. I took it off one of the guards on my way here, the first one who didn't see me coming.
I hand her the gun, and she takes it without hesitation, her fingers brushing mine as they close around the grip. She checks the magazine herself, ejecting it, inspecting the rounds, then slapping it back into place. Her thumb flicks the slide, chambering a round, and she looks up at me.
"You were right."
I glance over my shoulder at the door and then back at her.
"Say that again," I say, unable to stop the smile tugging at my lips.
She rolls her eyes, but there's no real annoyance in the gesture.
"Even now, you tell jokes."
I smile wider, stepping closer. "If I knew that door would hold, I'd be down for doing a lot more."
