Capture Me: The Complete Trilogy

Chapter 31

31Lucas

Yulia’s breathing takes on the steady rhythm of sleep, but I’m wide awake, my heart pounding heavily in my chest. Did she mean it? Did she know what she was saying?

Did she know it was me she was saying it to?

I want to shake her awake and demand answers, but I resist the impulse. I don’t know what I would do if Yulia told me it was Misha she was dreaming about. The mere thought of it burns me like acid. If I found out she meant the words for him…

No. I can’t go there. I don’t want Yulia looking at me like I’m a monster again.

Tightening my arm around her ribcage, I brush my lips across her temple and close my eyes, trying to relax. It was most likely a slip of the tongue, something she mumbled by accident, but even if there’s some truth to her words, why should I care? s*x is what I want from her, s*x and a certain basic companionship.

Just because I want Yulia doesn’t mean I need her love.

Forcing my breathing to slow, I will sleep to come, but the thought that she might love me is like a splinter in my brain. No matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to let it go—or to suppress the warm sensation that accompanies the idea.

It’s an illogical reaction on my part. I know better than anyone how meaningless those words are. My parents used “I love you” as a platitude, as something to say to each other and to me at social functions. It was part of the glossy façade they presented to the public, and I’ve always known not to take them at face value. Same with the women I’ve slept with: more than one of them had used the words casually, throwing them out like one might say “hello” and “goodbye.” There’s absolutely no reason for me to latch onto this one mumbled phrase from Yulia—a phrase that might not have even been meant for me.

Unless it had been meant for me. Is that possible? It wouldn’t be casual for Yulia, that much I’m sure of. Given the circumstances, if she did fall in love with me, she’d resist letting me know for as long as possible—which means she probably didn’t realize what she was saying.

Fuck. Clearly, I can’t let the matter rest. If Yulia loves me, I need to know, so I can stop obsessing about it.

Sitting up, I lean over her and turn on the bedside lamp.

She doesn’t so much as twitch at my movements. Her lips are slightly parted, and her lashes form dark crescents on her pale cheeks. With her face relaxed in sleep, she looks impossibly young—an innocent worn out by my harsh demands.

I watch her for a few moments, then reach for the light and turn it off. Lying down, I mold my body against her slender form from the back and breathe in the sweet, peach-tinted scent of her hair.

Soon, I promise myself as I close my eyes. When I return from Chicago, I’ll question her and find out the truth.

My captive’s not going anywhere, and two weeks is not that long to wait.

The chirping of my phone alarm drags me out of deep sleep. Suppressing the urge to crush the offending object, I reach for the nightstand on my right and turn off the alarm. Yawning, I take out the key I keep in that drawer and turn back to face Yulia—who woke up from my movements this time and is regarding me with a sleepy, half-lidded gaze.

“Hi, beautiful.” Unable to resist, I unlock the handcuffs and pull her into my lap. She’s soft and pliant, her skin deliciously warm as I hold her against me, and I have to fight the urge to throw her down for one last f**k. “I have to go,” I murmur instead, kissing the top of her head. There are so many things I want to say to her, so many questions I want to ask about last night, but I settle for saying, “Be good with Diego and Eduardo, okay?”

She tenses slightly, but I feel her nod against my chest.

“Yulia, about last night…” I slide my fingers into her hair and gently pull on it, needing to see her face, but she refuses to meet my gaze, her eyes trained somewhere on my chin.

I sigh and decide to let it go. Now is not the time to get into what Yulia may or may not have said to me when she was half-asleep. “I’ll miss you,” I say softly instead.

Her lips tighten, her gaze dropping even lower, and I remind myself to be patient. I can wait two weeks. Brushing another kiss over the crown of her head, I reluctantly shift her off my lap and get up, doing my best to keep my eyes off her naked curves.

Diego and Eduardo will be here in ten minutes, and I still need to shower and get dressed.