Page 48 of His Hell Girl

When I reach the ground floor of the house I come face to face with a freshly showered Vlad, a towel wrapped around his waist.

"I was just coming to get you," he says.

"Glad to see you're doing better," I nod my head at him, this time having a better grasp on my indifference. "Now, if you can take me back, that would be great," I add, crossing my arms over my chest.

I need to be as far away from him as possible. Only then I'll be able to get myself under control. Even now, seeing the signs of weariness on his face has me worried, one foot forward, my body prepared to go to him to make sure he's okay.

And I can't have that.

I'd come to grips with the fact that he has a certainunnaturaleffect on me a long time ago. But knowing thatmynaturalinclination is to reach for him, means I'm also able to control myself.

"That's not happening," he answers casually, using a towel to dry his hair. "Your room is unlocked. I left some things for you there so go make yourself comfortable," he says, walking past me.

"What do you mean? You can't keep me here." I frown, turning to follow him up the stairs and into a room not unlike the one I'd woken up into.

"Oh, but I can, Sisi," he gives me a devilish smile, "you're officially my wife. That means your place is with me." He picks up his watch from a table, placing it on his wrist.

"Against my will. Really, Vlad, what's the point of this?" I sigh, done with everything. "Why can't you let me be?"

"Because I told you," he speaks slowly, enunciating each word. "I'm never letting you go. Where I go you go. And where you go…"

"I go alone." I don't let him finish his words, already getting mad at him again.

"I follow." He comes closer. So close I can still see some drops of water clinging to his skin, the ink drawing my attention. But as I notice that my eyes go lower and lower, I immediately whip my head up.

Too late.

He's regarding me with an amused expression, one eyebrow raised.

"Like what you see?" he asks, his voice arrogantly bold as he positions himself in front of me.

"I've seen better," I lie, shrugging and moving past him to sit on his bed. "We need to have a serious conversation, so drop those," I wave my hand toward his body, "seductive moves you're trying to pull on me. It's not going to work." But even asI say the words, I can't help the way my eyes try to drink him in again.

And then I see it.

I frown as I look better, realizing his tattoos look different. There's…

"That wasn't there before." I speak before I can help myself, pointing toward the triangle drawn over the evil spirits, almost as if it's caging them in.

"Perceptive." He smirks. "You're right. It's a new addition," he says, but doesn't elaborate.

I feign a cough to clear my throat.

I need to get a grip on myself.

"Right, so," I straighten my back, "I need to get back to New York. Marcello must be worried by now."

"I left a note." He shrugs, moving around the bed and toward a big walk-in wardrobe. Seeing that he's trying his best to avoid this conversation, I just follow him.

"So he knows I'm with you?" I ask, surprised he would have been so direct.

"Something along the lines," he says, amused, before dropping his towel.

It's so sudden, I barely have the time to react. My eyes widen, my mouth forming a small O as I simply take in his body.

Definitely bulked up.

I can't help but feel the heat creep up my neck as I see his ass, so insanely well sculpted. Even covered entirely in ink, the way his muscles flex when he moves is unmistakable.

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