Page 83 of Scarlet Thorns
But my feet won’t move. My hands shake as I stare at items that promise the kind of pleasure I’ve only dreamed about, with a man who makes my body sing just by existing in the same space.
This is insane. I’m his housekeeper, not his… whatever kind of woman uses items like these. But the want coursing through me doesn’t care about logic or appropriateness or the fact that I barely know him.
I take a step backward, finally finding the strength to retreat before I do something catastrophically stupid like touch anything in here.
That’s when a voice stops me cold.
“Find something interesting?”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Ilona
Terror freezes my blood.
Not only have I been snooping where I absolutely shouldn’t be, but I got caught. On my first fucking day at work. Mental images of getting fired flash through my mind like a nightmare reel. What the hell am I going to do? End up on the streets of Budapest? I don’t even have money to fly back to Boston.
I spin around slowly, my heart in my throat.
Osip Sidorov stands in the doorway, filling the frame with that predatory stillness that makes my survival instincts scream in terror. His gray eyes are unreadable, but there’s something burning behind them that makes my knees weak. The stone-cold expression on his face should terrify me— and it does— but in some twisted way, it also sends liquid heat pooling between my thighs.
What the everloving fuck, girl?
My nipples are so hard they’re practically drilling holes through my thin top. I cross my arms instinctively, but it’s too late. His gaze has already dropped, taking in my body’s betrayal with the precision of a man who knows exactly what he’s seeing.
Those steel-gray eyes are possessive as they devour me, like he’s already decided I belong to him.
“You should not be here.” His voice is deadly quiet, each word precisely enunciated in that accent that makes everything inside me clench.
“I was just… I’m so sorry.” The words tumble out in a rush. “I didn’t mean to— the book moved and I—”
I try to push past him, desperate to escape before I do something catastrophically stupid. But his closeness, that dark masculine scent, invades my senses until I can barely think straight.
When I try to slip around him, his hand snaps out like a striking snake.
His fingers wrap around my wrist— not painful, but inescapable. The contact sends electricity shooting up my arm, and I gasp at the intensity of it. Our eyes meet, and in that moment, I see my own desperate hunger reflected back at me.
There’s no mistaking what’s happening here.
The air between us sizzles with sexual tension that’s been building since the moment we met. We both know there’s no going back from this.
“Ilona.” He murmurs my name in a way that makes me think dirty thoughts. Very dirty thoughts.
“Osip, I—”
He moves faster than thought, backing me against the hidden room’s doorframe. His free hand braces against the wall beside my head, caging me in with his body. The heat radiating from him makes me dizzy with want.
“Do you know what you’ve seen?” His voice is low, dangerous.
I nod, not trusting my voice.
“Do you understand what this means?”
I shake my head because I’m not sure I understand anything beyond the desperate need to feel his mouth on mine.
His thumb traces across my pulse point, and I shiver at the gentle touch that contrasts sharply with the violent tension in his body. “You should be afraid of me.”
“I know.” The admission whispers out. “But I’m not.”
