Page 33 of Twisted Fate

“I appreciate what you did.” He runs his free hand through his hair, still holding onto my elbow with the other. “I’m in your debt, Sophia, truly. But I can’t explain how you?—”

“Did your father tell you that I’m an orphan?” My voice quivers, and it’s not a lie now. It’s the first real truth I’ve told Konstantin, though not in the way I’m about to frame it. But the emotion is real enough.

Konstantin blinks, startled. “No,” he says after a beat. “I’m sorry about that, but I don’t see?—”

“My father knew he dealt with dangerous men,” I whisper. “It wasn’t just my guardian who taught me self-defense, Konstantin. My father gave me lessons as soon as I was old enough to understand—since I was six. He taught me to use a knife, how to shoot a gun. I practiced whenever I could, even after I left for college. I went shooting on weekends in Scotland. When I came home, I kept up my lessons. It was important to him that I be able to take care of myself, and I’ve tried to honor his memory by doing just that, by making sure I never had to depend on—” I break off, my voice cracking, and while nothing I just said was true, the emotion that bubbles up as I think of myrealfather is.

His blood soaking into the carpet. Wire biting into his neck. The red meat of it showing where it cut in?—

My stomach flips, my skin prickling at the memory. Tears mist my eyes, and I see Konstantin looking at me, reading me. Whatever he’s seeing right now, I’m not faking the emotion currently strangling my heart.

“I’m sorry,” Konstantin repeats, his gaze searching mine. “I didn’t know you’d lost—he sounds like a good man. To teach his daughter to protect herself that way. I suppose—” He clears his throat. “I suppose I’m in his debt too, then.”

For a moment, as his eyes meet mine, I see nothing but sincerity in them. Something quivers in my chest, and all I canthink for a split second, as I realize that Konstantin is still holding onto my elbow, is that I’m glad he’s not dead.

But I still have to kill him.

He hasn’t broken eye contact. With a small tug, he pulls me closer to him, his gaze never leaving mine. He looks almost as if he’s in a fog, lost in thought, and my heart crashes against my ribs as I realize how close we are to each other—nearly touching now.

His eyes flick down to my mouth. “I could have died,” he murmurs. “You’re right, Sophia. I’m sorry. You saved me, and I immediately accused you. I?—”

He’s going to kiss me.It’s the only thing I can think as time seems to slow down around us, the heat of his body brushing against mine, filling my awareness. I’m not thinking about how close I might be to my goal, about how I’m going to use this moment as a way to kill him, what weapon I might have that could end this tonight.

All I’m thinking about, in this moment, is how Konstantin Abramov’s mouth will feel on mine.

9

VALENTINA

For a moment, I think he’s going to do it. I could swear that I can hear his heartbeat, thudding under his skin the same way mine is, the air between us so thick and tense that I doubt even I could cut through it with a knife. I can feel his desire, throbbing there in that fraction of space between our bodies, and if I reached down to touch him, I know my hand would find him hard and ready for me.

I arch toward him, ever so slightly, trying not to startle him, not to break the moment. It’s not the mission that I’m thinking about right now—it’s how badly I want to feel all that hard muscle pressed against me, how much I want to find out what he looks like without his clothes, how good he’d feel inside of me. My body is crying out for him, screaming for the pleasure I know he could give me, and right now that’s all I want.

Not to finish the mission. Not to go back to Kane with proof of death and the ticket to my freedom.

All I want right now is to find out how it would feel if Konstantin made me come.

He leans forward for a fraction of a moment, his body swaying toward mine as if drawn by the same desire. And then,just as I can feel the heat of his mouth so fucking close to grazing mine—he goes very still, and the moment shatters as he steps back.

He drops my elbow, his hand snatching back, and his expression closes off like a door slamming shut. The heat in his eyes cools to ice, and he shoves his hands in his pockets, leaving me pulsing with need and standing there thrown entirely off-balance for the first time in my life.

“You should go to bed,” he says, his voice rough with unfulfilled lust. I let my gaze drop to his waist, then lower—I can see how aroused he is, the thick line of his cock evident against the fly of his suit trousers. He looks fucking huge, and my mouth goes dry, desire still pulsing madly between my thighs.

“Konstantin—”

“Go to bed, Sophia.” He turns toward the bar, and my frustration reaches a boiling point.

“Why?” I snap, taking a step toward him. “So you can jerk off and I can rub one out, each of us on the other side of that wall, both of us thinking about each other, when we could just be fucking and getting it out of our systems? You can’t tell me you don’t want me, not when you’re so fucking hard I can practically see the veins of your cock through your pants.”

“Sophia.” He snaps his head around, glaring at me. “That’s no way for my wife to talk.”

“To myhusband?” I shake my head sharply. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, Konstantin. I could be on my knees with your cock in my mouth right now, but sayingthatis too much?—”

“You won’t be doing that.” His voice is hard and grating. “That doesn’t make children, Sophia. And we’ve already established that?—”

“No, you’ll get some other woman to suck your cock. Like Elia, maybe?—”

“I won’t be getting anyone to do that on this trip.” His jaw tightens, and I see the muscle in his jaw tick. “Go to bed, Sophia.”

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