Page 36 of Deception

I’m strong and I’m smart.

When we reach the waiting car, he practically throws me into the back with a curse as he gets in beside me. “Whore.”

“Look at me, Gregor,” I level him with a stoic stare before I tell him, “I’m going to kill you.”

Laughing, he steps on my toe, and as bad as it hurts, I grin at him.

I’m smart and I’m strong, motherfucker.

14

LUCY

The boat bobs as I step in under Gregor’s beady stare. It’s not exactly the easiest to find my balance. The heels make it almost impossible, along with my chained wrists. It feels like I haven’t slept in days, and with my ears still blocked from the flight to Turkey, my head is throbbing.

“Opa, suka!” Gregor yells as I take my time. The headscarf he wrapped around me makes it hard to see my footing.

My body is achy enough from the uncomfortable journey. Turns out that a plush private jet isn’t any better than economy when you’re all tied up.

“Fucking idiot!” he spits, grabbing me by the arm and yanking me onto the bench seat at the back of the motorboat.

The driver barely waits for him to settle beside me when he speeds off towards the small island in the distance. The sun is still rising, tinging everything a stunning shade of pink that makes me smile.

I fucking hate pink. I’ve never been the girliest of girls, apart from the fact I’ve always loved a pony. However, today, pink is the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in so fucking long that tears burn in my eyes as the black headscarf billows around me. The briny air fills my lungs and stings my pores. This is the closest to freedom I’ve had since the day Tomasz took me.

Eerily, my thought of him conjures his silhouette on the jetty. Tall and tanned, he is beyond handsome, and my heart races at the sight of him in his perfectly fitted, dark slacks and crisp white shirt. The boat comes to a slow stop while I’m transfixed by him. Although he’s wearing sunglasses, I can feel his eyes on me.

“I hate you,” I whisper, reminding myself that anything else I feel towards him is wrong.

As though he hears me, he tilts his head to the side, crossing his arms over his chest while his driver talks to him. All I can do is stand and stare, hoping that I don’t topple while I curse myself every which way for seeing anything other than a criminal and a monster.

This time, Gregor makes no move to touch me. Instead, he stands beside me, waiting for whatever is coming next. It seems like forever before the driver comes over and helps me onto the jetty.

“Wait here for the drop-off,” he tells Gregor sternly. “You can leave once we have the goods.”

“Her?”

“Not your concern.”

The dickhead is clearly beneath the man now guiding me to their boss. This one has an understated authority to him. He doesn’t pull me around or feel the need to intimidate me with curses. There’s no fear in him that I can sense. It’s refreshing.

“We should move this inside,” he tells Tomasz, nodding towards the fortress looking building ahead of us. “He’s here.”

I half expect Tomasz to bark at him like he does at the other men, but instead, he touches his hand to the base of my back and starts for the medieval-looking gates. The walk is torturously long, considering it’s a straight path into the courtyard. The heat of his hand permeates through the fabric of my dress and the headscarf, singeing my skin. The sound of the waves that was so beautiful before now grates on me as I try to listen to his steady breaths. Then we pause side by side in the walkway’s shadow, where it’s cool and the goosebumps on my skin could be from the breeze.

“Red,” he says.

The tone has no inflexion. It says nothing about why he brought me here. However, when he pulls his sunglasses from his face, his eyes narrow on me. The intensity of his stare robs me of my breath while my body screams for him to touch me everywhere.

I swear the emptiness that he left inside me burns with our proximity. Something about the way he keeps his distance feels off though. Even as he slips his hand over the curve of my arse to fist it at his side before turning to me, I know something has changed. My presence isn’t another of his games.

“Why am I here?” I ask as he walks through the darkened archways bordering the maze-like courtyard, and I follow. “Who’s here?”

A dark chuckle rumbles from him as we pause at the opening in the hedge, and he finally unravels the headscarf to inspect the delivery of his goods. I don’t know what’s wrong with him as he finds my gaze again and brushes my hair behind my ear. It’s such a soft action for him, it almost seems tender.

Grasping my hand, he moves to lift it. My binds stop him though. Something that clearly irritates him as he growls at the chain prisoning my hands to my hip. Without missing a beat, he grips the harness and harshly yanks it, breaking the chain and releasing my hands. The bite of the gold around my nape does nothing to detract from the ferocity of his touch when he lifts my chin with a crooked finger so that I’m forced to meet his gaze.

Eyes never leaving mine, his hand moulds to the curve of my hip as he pulls me flush to him. Confusion leaves me completely dazed as our bodies meld. There’s no part of him I don’t feel as his other hand cups the back of mine and then brings it to his face.

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