by Nic Saint
“Where are my clothes, husband?” she demanded haughtily, as if she were a princess and he a mere lackey.
When he lifted his shoulders imperceptibly, he knew he shouldn’t play games with her. It was far too dangerous, not only for her, but also for him.
“Perhaps I’ll meet your parents like this, then?”
She cocked an eyebrow, then abruptly raised her arms and let the towel that had been wrapped around her body fall to the floor.
His eyes dipped down to take in the seductive curve of her breasts. Droplets of water still clung to the cream-colored flesh, her satiny skin gleaming and her nipples pink and erect. He could feel the tug in his pants as his cock responded automatically. Glancing over to the doc, he thought he saw the same glimmer of heat appear in the old man’s eyes.
How’s that for spousal instinct? he thought. He’d take this American impudence over Russian subservience any time.
Then, before he could stop her, she’d tripped over to the window and was stepping out onto the balcony, treating the whole of Moscow to a vision of her naked splendor.
“Yoo-hoo!” she yelled out to the street below. “If you want me, come and get me!”
In two steps, he’d joined her, and grabbed her from behind, intent on dragging her pert ass back inside. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he demanded as he felt her naked skin under his touch, the tender flesh of her bosom enticing against his arm.
Then she suddenly whirled around, and when she pressed her lips to his, he was momentarily stunned, drinking in the sweet nectar of her mouth, the teasing flick of her tongue between his lips, the softness of her body warm and pliant against him.
Then she jerked herself free and waltzed back inside, calling out over her shoulder, “Just stealing a morning kiss from my husband.”
He touched his lips where hers had left their impression and shook his head as a smile creased his face. Yep. She was something else, all right.
Then, before Leonid could suffer a heartache at the sight of the enticing curves of American woman personified, he quickly followed her in, picked a handful of fresh clothes from the pile and pressed them into her hands.
With a smile, she took them and swept from the room, her bare buttocks invitingly swaying as she did so.
He stood staring after her, wondering if this was progress or a giant leap back. Whatever it was, he knew he was sinking deeper and deeper with each moment he spent in her company. If only there wasn’t so much riding on this, he might even have enjoyed it.
CHAPTER 5
There was nothing to it, Ariel told herself as she got dressed. All she needed to do was find some sort of distraction, and the moment the Russian brute’s back was turned, she would make a run for it. Surely the door was unlocked now, what with this creepy old guy being Dimitri’s guest.
She wondered if this was Dimitri’s father. Hadn’t he told her he wanted her to meet his parents? She smiled when she thought of the expression on the old guy’s face when she’d pranced about in the nude. If he really was her father-in-law, he was sure to disapprove of this newly acquired helpmeet for his son.
First that hit on the head, then the little show she’d put on. It wouldn’t surprise her if he was begging his son to get an annulment right this second. If Dimitri insisted on keeping her a prisoner in this hotel room, she would make his life so miserable he would personally put her on a plane back to America.
She eyed the set of clothes dubiously. Cotton pants. Cotton shirt. Who did this guy think she was? Little Miss Homebody? She decided to wash her clothes and hang them to dry. She’d be damned if she was going to look like someone who just stepped off the pages of ‘Suzy Homemaker, The Manual’.
She eyed herself in the mirror. Her long, blond hair was a mess. She really needed some conditioner and a brush, something Mister He-Man Kidnapper clearly hadn’t thought of. And her face. She leaned closer to the mirror, studying the puffiness beneath her eyes. She looked like she hadn’t slept in days. She didn’t get it. All she’d had to drink back at that club were a couple of cocktails. And even though she wasn’t used to drinking, she couldn’t possibly have blacked out for thirty-six hours.
As she searched the bathroom for facial cream, she thought she knew the answer. The nausea and the horrible taste in her mouth must be the result of some kind of drug he’d slipped her.
Sometime during the night, Dimitri must have drugged her, then kidnapped her to Russia. It was the only explanation.
Opening all the cabinets, she found them empty. Whoever her so-called husband was, he hadn’t made this room his home either. None of his stuff was here. In fact, it was almost as if no one had ever been in this room before.
Her skin was dry, and her hair was a mess, and the clothes he’d given her were the most horrible things she’d ever worn, and if her mood hadn’t already been below zero, it plummeted even further now.
When she stepped from the bathroom, she could almost feel her skin crackle. She was so furious she could have slain the beast responsible for this mess.
Fired up, she decided to put her plan into action straightaway. The sooner she could get away, the better. And then she would go straight to the embassy and have them call the cops to have this man arrested and sent to prison.
“Hey, you!” she yelled.
Both men looked up at her entrance, and she thought she could detect in the old man’s eyes a sliver of fear. Good. Then she looked over at Dimitri and her satisfaction waned. The man looked positively forbidding. Glowering at her from under those heavy brows, his expression told her he brooked no nonsense.
“What is it now?”
“I want some decent clothes, buster.”
“What’s wrong with these clothes? They fit you, no?”
Incredulous, she jerked her thumb at the cotton shirt. “I can’t wear this. I could just as well be wearing a potato bag.”
“I can get you one if you want. Isn’t that what all you Tennessee girls like to wear?”
She snapped her mouth closed. How did he know she hailed from Tennessee? Then it dawned on her. Of course. He had her personal items. She decided to try a different tack.
“I’ll have you know that I can’t possibly meet your parents in these rags.” She briefly glanced at the old man, throwing him a questioning look. But if he was Dimitri’s father, he didn’t respond. Merely ogled her blankly.
Dimitri waved a deprecating hand. “You look fine.”
She jutted out her chin. “No, I don’t. So either you get me some decent clothes or I’ll lock myself up in the bathroom and refuse to come out.”
He arched his brow, and the old guy shook his head, throwing Dimitri a look that seemed to say, I told you so. She didn’t know what these two were up to, but she didn’t like it one bit.
Then Dimitri sighed. “Come here a minute.”
She flicked her eyes to the door, measuring the distance. If she broke into a run now, she could just make it. Then all she needed to do was run as fast as she could while screaming for help at the top of her lungs. Even if he caught her, there would be enough people on this floor who would come to her aid. At least that’s what she hoped.
As she tensed her muscles, ready for the spring, Dimitri must have guessed her intentions, for he crossed the distance between them with three long strides, and clamped his hand around her shoulder.
Glaring up at his inscrutable face, she hissed, “You can’t keep me here forever, you know. I will get out, and when I do, I’ll make you pay.”
To her surprise, she thought she detected the hint of a smile hovering around his lips. “I’m sure you will, Ariel.”
Then he’d propelled her to a sofa, and she was sent flying. Sprawled out, she tried to turn around, but before she could, he was pinning her down, and as she craned her neck and screamed out in helpless rage, she saw that the little old guy was approaching her, a very sharp-looking needle in his hands.
CHAPTER 6
“Just cut it out, Ariel
,” growled Dimitri. “It’s just a precaution. Nothing to make a big scene about.” He’d just suffered a bruising look from the doctor, the man clearly feeling sorry for him to be saddled up with such a berserk wife, and his patience was wearing thin.
He’d taken a seat next to her on the sofa, where she sat nursing the spot the needle had punctured her delicate skin. The doc had done a cursory examination and given her a clean bill of health. Now all he needed to do was process the blood work, and all was set. He’d said his goodbyes, seeming extremely eager to leave.
“You don’t have the right!” she cried, her face wet with tears.
He’d taken her hand in his and was absently rubbing his thumb along the softness. Her bones were as delicate and fine as the rest of her. A golden-haired beauty, his brother had called her, and he hadn’t lied. She was without a doubt the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on.
On impulse, he suddenly asked, “When was the last time you saw your father?”
She frowned, wiping tears from her cheeks. “My father? Why would you ask me that?”
He lifted his shoulders. “Humor me.”
She gave him a long, searching look, then relented. “I never met my father. He died before I was born.”
“Who was he?”
“A lieutenant in the US Army. He died overseas.”
He nodded, and found himself still holding onto her hand. He wondered why she would even let him, seeing as she hated him so much. As he gazed down at her, he felt sorry for her. She was a nice person, and she deserved better.
“Look, if I give you something decent to wear, will you stop trying to escape?” Even before he formulated the question, he knew how ridiculous it sounded. Of course she wouldn’t stop trying to get away. Why would she? He closed his eyes. “I mean…” He shook his head, disgusted with himself, and abruptly rose from the bed. “Forget about it,” he grumbled, then picked up the phone and barked an order.
“Why are you doing this to me?” she asked softly when he returned his eyes to hers.
Ignoring the question, he stated curtly, “I’m having some stuff sent up. I hope you like it.”
And without waiting for her reply, he made a beeline for the mini-bar, and poured himself a stiff one. He gulped it down in one go, trying to settle his rattled nerves. This wasn’t going to work out, he now saw. His plan had been a bust from the start. He walked over to the balcony and stepped outside, distinctly remembering the touch of her supple body against his, the feel of her naked breasts on his arm, the soft wetness of her lips. He closed his eyes and placed his hands on the balustrade, squeezing hard.
Opening them again, he thought he heard a rustling sound behind him, and he wheeled around, only to find Ariel standing there, staring at him with those cornflower blue eyes of hers, her long blond tresses cascading wildly down her slender shoulders. He blinked, feeling the now familiar twitch of attraction.
“Why did you ask about my father?”
“I—” He shrugged. “I guess I was simply curious.”
She inched closer, and if he could have backed up, he would have. As it was, he was pressed up against the balustrade. She placed a finger on his chest. “I know we’re not really married, Dimitri.”
He didn’t respond.
“I would remember if we were.”
She’d placed her hands on his chest, then traced them along his arms, and finally circled them around his neck, her face now mere inches away, her lips soft and seductive.
“You seem tense, Dimitri. Don’t you like it when I touch you?”
He merely stared at her, unable to move as her eyes held him captive. A deep, vivid blue, the sparks of color entrancing him. She inched closer still, and pressed her soft boobs against his chest. His breath caught.
“Don’t you want your wife to touch you like this?” She let her hand slip lower, and placed it on his bulging crotch. She smiled. “I see you’re ready for me, honey. All ready to give the new Mrs. Loginovsky exactly what she needs.”
“Stop it,” he croaked, and grasped her wrists, then wrenched them behind her back, easily holding them in one hand, then pressing her up against him while his other hand cupped her breast, finally taking what he’d yearned for all this time. And then his lips crashed down on hers with a heat that surprised even himself, and he was plundering her innocent mouth, wiping the taunts from her lips as his hand trailed up and circled around her neck.
With a fire that threatened to destroy the last vestiges of his defense, he devoured her sweet mouth, dueling not with words now but with his tongue, and as she heaved a soft moan, he knew she felt the same inexplicable passion conquer her doubts and fears as well. Before long, she clung to him as he clung to her, and gave as well as she took.
Her soft curves molded against his hardness, and were like a hammer knocking down his restraints, and when his hand slipped beneath that silly cotton shirt and made short shrift of her bra, he was cupping her naked flesh under his strong fingers—so soft and yielding it sent his desire spiraling out of control. His mouth was tasting her twin mounds, sucking and tasting the sweet aroma of her, and before he could stop himself, he’d lifted her up and was carrying her over to the marital bed.
CHAPTER 7
She didn’t know how it happened. One moment she was teasing the brute, making him pay for what he was doing to her, and the next they were locked in an embrace she couldn’t escape from, her heart racing and her breath coming in quick bursts. When the harmless little game had turned serious—when the transition occurred—was unclear to her befuddled mind, but she knew as she clung to him, his lips claiming hers with an insistence that was foreign to her, she found herself incapable of saying no.
The moment she was caught in his embrace, she went from being cold as ice to burning hot in the space of a single breath. And then she was panting, and being devoured by a heat she’d never known before, all her previous fumbling with boys in cinemas and backseats of cars child’s play compared to the mature intent Dimitri brought to their embrace.
His hands were everywhere, cupping her breasts, edging her closer, enticing her to plummet ever deeper into this wild and crazy moment with a man she didn’t know nor respected.
And yet when he demanded, she gave. And when he took, she accepted and surrendered with a shuddering and quivering body as if she’d always been his to take. And then he was carrying her over to the bed, and the moment she felt the soft covers beneath her and his hot hands on her, his lips caressing hers with bruising demand, she breathed, “Stop, Dimitri, stop.”
And when he still continued, his hands grasping her softness and his lips arching lower along her belly, his intent obvious, she finally clasped her fingers in his hair and jerked him up, the darkness in his lustful eyes crashing into her consciousness. She shivered, both with fear and the shock of her own yearning for this stranger, and then she whispered, “Stop! Please!”
His eyes grew darker still, and he jerked himself away from her, leaving her shuddering and clasping at the frayed edges of her sanity and common sense. Turning his back on her, he muttered, “I’m sorry, Ariel.” He drew his hand through his long black hair that fell to his shoulders. “I don’t know what came over me.”
As her eyes focused on the intricate tattoo that adorned his corded arm, she knew the heat of the moment had ignited their inner cores. An inexplicable rush of passion. She pulled the torn threads of her blouse around her naked form, trying to cover herself up.
Her wantonness had turned him into a wild animal, and she knew better than to entice him again, so she wrapped a sheet around herself and sank her head to her knees.
“I’m the one who should apologize,” she murmured.
“That’s bullshit, Ariel,” he countered in a surprisingly soft voice. “If there’s anyone at fault, it’s me. It won’t happen again.”
The statement should have reassured her, but it didn’t. Somehow, the man had gotten under her skin. Though for the life of her, she couldn’t think
why. He was a brute, a kidnapper, a man who pretended to be her husband, then locked her up in this hotel room in Moscow. And when she gave him an excuse, tried to have his way with her.
And yet, beneath that forbidding exterior she had the impression there lurked a passionate soul and a tender heart.
“Why did you bring me here, Dimitri?” she voiced quietly. “I mean, really?”
He eyed her with soulful eyes for a moment, and she thought she detected remorse. “I…” Then he shook his head and abruptly rose from the bed. “You should get ready. I’ll bring you that fresh set of clothes you asked for.”
She reached out a hand and grasped his. “Wait. Don’t go yet. Please. Explain to me what’s going on.”
He turned and stared down at her. “I can’t. Please don’t ask me again.” And with those words, he strode from the room, leaving her alone and miserable.
Moments later, the door to the bedroom opened once again, and when she looked up, Dimitri walked in, carrying several bags and setting them down by the door. “The stuff you asked for,” he stated curtly, then withdrew without a second glance.
With a deep sigh, she walked over to the gifts he’d brought and discovered that this time he’d gone to great lengths to supply her with something she could actually wear without embarrassment.
A long flowing robe in gorgeous blue satin, lacy lingerie, three pairs of heels, two of which actually fit, and then a set of what looked like travel clothes: simple jeans, shirts, sweaters and two pairs of sneakers.
A final bag contained several items of toiletry and makeup. It was obvious the man had gone above and beyond to supply his ‘wife’ with the bare necessities. Feeling an odd sense of gratitude to her warden who proved ever more mysterious and inexplicable the longer their association lasted, she stripped and started trying on the new threads.
