Dangerous Desire

18

Husband. That startles me. He thinks Dimitri and I are married. I open my mouth to answer, but close it again, unsure if my position becomes more or less precarious if I tell him the truth.

With infinite gentleness, Killian murmurs, “Eva. Don’t make me do it. You know I will.”

I turn my head to avoid his gaze. I feel too naked when he looks at me. Vulnerable and weak, like a child. “Can a slave be unfaithful to his master? Can a dog be unfaithful to the one who holds his leash?”

A moment passes. Then I suck in a breath and jerk back because Killian is crossing the room. He shoves me back onto the mattress, straddles my body, and grabs my wrists. He pins them above my head and leans so close to my face our noses almost touch.

“I asked you a simple question. I expect a simple answer.”

I’m breathing so hard I’m almost hyperventilating. His grip is far too strong for me to escape, and I know if I run he’ll catch me anyway. I’m too weak from exhaustion, hunger, and fever to do anything but lie here.

Then I notice the knot I tied in the front of the towel has come undone.

I’m lying naked beneath him.

When I cry out in distress, he says, “I’ve already seen all of you there is to see. How do you think you got out of your wet clothes after your pointless little swim?”

“Get off me!”

“If I stand without an answer, you’ll pay the price.”

My entire body shakes with anger. He’s big and heavy and utterly in control, and I despise him so much it’s a physical thing. It’s a vat of boiling lava in my stomach.

Through clenched teeth, I say, “Dimitri and I aren’t married. We never were. And to answer your earlier question, no. I don’t love him. I hate him with my whole heart.”

His response comes fast and hard. “And yet you’ve been together for years. If you hate him so much, why didn’t you leave?”

My laugh sounds semi-hysterical, even to my own ears. “You’ve never met him, have you?”

Killian’s jaw hardens. He says nothing. He only watches me, waiting, his dark hair draped around our faces like a curtain cutting off the world.

“I didn’t think so. If you had, you’d know that no one leaves Dimitri. I’ve tried and failed many times. The only way to escape him is death.”

“You stepped on this ship of your own free will to go back to him.”

“Yes, I did. To save someone else’s life. Not that a man like you could ever understand that.”

Killian’s breathing is unsteady. His hands around my wrists are iron bands. Unblinking, we stare at each other in hostile silence while the clock ticks on the wall and I brace myself for the moment those hands move from my wrists to my throat.

But then, as quick as two fingers snapping, he releases me and rises from the bed.

The moment he stands, I sit up and cover myself. My hands shake so badly I almost can’t manage to tie a knot in the towel over my breasts. He walks a circle around the room, pacing the length of it and back, his hands on his hips, as restless as a caged tiger.

It’s the first time I’ve seen a crack in his iron control.

“You’re not married.”

“No.”

“You hate him.”

“Yes.”

“And the only reason you’re going back to him is to save this Naz person.”

“Yes.”

He turns and paces the other direction, muttering something in Gaelic under his breath. Abruptly he stops and sends me a lethal, burning glare. “If I find out you’re lying—”

“I know,” I say, exhausted by all this. “You’ll beat me.”

His smile is small, yet profoundly cruel. “No. Since you enjoy swimming so much, I’ll throw you overboard.”

You’d think the sound of your mind cracking would be more of a roar, a chaos of noise that rises to a deafening crescendo, but really it’s the smallest little snap, like a twig crushed underfoot.

I meet his burning glare with a level one of my own. “The hell you will.”

His brows lower, temper settling over him like a fog, but I’m not backing down.

“Whatever it is you need me for, you haven’t gotten it yet. And by the way, in case you hadn’t noticed, I can take whatever you dish out. That isn’t bravado, it’s a fact. Dimitri is far more inventive and dedicated to savagery than you. I survived seven years of his particular brand of brutality, so you’ll excuse me if I’m underwhelmed by your threats. So stop them. Beat me or don’t, either way it doesn’t matter. I’m done playing this cat-and-mouse game.”

I stand, pushing back a wave of dizziness through sheer force of will. “Oh, and speaking of intelligence? If you had even half a brain, you’d tell me what you want from Dimitri and let me help you get it. Because I’m the only weakness that man has.”

There’s a beat wherein he simply stares at me with his nostrils flared and his lips thinned, as if he’s debating whether choking me or setting me on fire will kill me the quickest.

I’m so over it.