Page 40 of The Russian Pakhan's Forced Bride
I feel a bit pathetic as I get out, almost like a child who knows they’re in trouble, but I can only follow along with his hurried pace.
Given his tense shoulders and the impatience that leaves him with every step, I know any wrong word has the potential to make him snap completely.
While it’s tempting to keep pushing, I have the feeling now isn’t the time. That I need to rein myself in a bit to not overdo it.
Roman pulls me up the stairs and into the house, not offering any onlooking staff an explanation or a second glance. Instead, he escorts me upstairs, takes me into the spare room, and finally lets go.
Strangely enough, my arm feels colder without that measured grip of his.
Meeting his gaze, I expect him to unbind me, but instead, he just looks down at me with nothing short of furious heat in his eyes.
The longer we remain like that, the more my sheepishness simmers into irritation. I gesture with my wrists.
“Get these off me.”
“What do you say?”
My eye nearly twitches at his words. “Get these off me.Now.”
Then, he scowls. “Try again.”
Instead of saying anything, I shut my mouth and glare at him.
Roman reaches for my wrists but clutches them instead of freeing me like I demanded. His eyes flare with unshakable anger. “…how about you start with something like ‘I’m sorry for trying to run, Roman…I’m sorry for being a pain in your ass’.”
His mocking tone sparks more of my resistance. “Maybe you don’t deserve an apology.”
His grip tightens by a fraction, and he pulls me even closer. “In that case, maybe I should leave you like this…maybe then you’ll learn your lesson.”
Something in his demeanor tells me it isn’t just a threat...that he wouldn’t hesitate to do exactly that. It sends a wave of hesitation through me, but his attempts to make me obey only irritate me more.
“You know that won’t work. I’ll just find another way.”
Roman chuckles, but it lacks any real humor as he crowds my space, making me take an instinctive step backward. “Oh, I have no doubt you’ll try…”
“Then let me go.”
“No.”
My chest tightens with that mounting frustration as I look back at him, feeling more and more helpless. “Don’t be a bastard, and just take this damn rope off!”
“You want me to free you so badly…you want me to just do what you ask despite how reckless and infuriating you’ve been,” he utters, backing me up until I feel the mattress against the back of my legs. He holds both of my arms then, expression riddled with rage and something else I can’t fully decipher. “But you have no idea what I’ve been dealing with. The shit I’ve been handling behind the scenes…your tantrums are the least of my concerns, yet they seem to take up most of my time and attention.”
That dangerous edge to his words makes me pause, regardless of how badly I want him to just give in and undo the restraints.
My brows furrow. “Whatever you deal with at work has nothing to do with me.”
“Yes, that’s true,” he mumbles, letting his thumbs trace over my forearms in a surprisingly gentle touch. He lets go of a deep breath. “But coming home and having to deal with your bullshit…it doesn’t make things any easier. If you behave, then maybe I can go easy on you.”
As his words hit me, that’s when I see it.
That familiar gleam in his eyes manages to slip through despite his self-restraint. The same look he gave me in the club and the SUV.
Despite myself and the anger coursing through me, it almost causes a chain reaction, and I swallow hard.
Roman’s eyes move across my features, looking both tense and curious, and then some of that anger lessens enough for his tone to come down slightly.
“Damn it, Victoria…I am trying here,” he murmurs, voice softer as his grip loosens by a touch. Even so, he lowers his hands, and instead of undoing the rope, he rubs at my wrists just beneath it. “But all you do is fight me.”
