Page 12 of Kneeling for Daddy
“Alek!” I scream, futilely writhing on his shoulder and trying to wriggle my arms free.
“I think you’re forgetting thathe’sthe one who forced us to marry,” he imparts with the calmness of a man who isn’t in the middle of committing an actual felony. “He knows I’m here, and trust me, he is the last person who is going to save you.”
With his arm firmly banded across the back of my thighs, he carries me from the bedroom, through the hotel suite, and straight into the hallway. “Put me down!” I kick and flail, but it only makes him adjust his hold as he waits for the elevator to arrive.
“Gladly,” he exhales, stepping into the cab and dropping me to the floor as the doors slide shut. The sheet slips from my frame as I quickly find my footing. I’m forced to hold it with both hands to keep from flashing him or the elderly couple, who are blessed with sharing this ride with us. They eye the two of us with suspicion, clearly interested in the scene unfolding.
By the time we reach the lobby, I’m simmering with silent fury. The doors open, and I stay rooted in place. “There is absolutely no way in hell I am walking through the lobby wearing this.”
“Have it your way,” he mutters with annoyance as he hoists me over his shoulder again. The soles of his shoes slap against the marble floors, amplifying his brisk pace as he carries me through the lobby like a ragdoll. The brisk morning air prickles my skin, raising goosebumps, when he pushes through the doors to the valet. He walks straight to a black Range Rover waiting at the curb, like he knew I’d fight him every step of the way.
With his free hand on the sheet to keep me from bolting, he sets me on my feet just long enough to open the passenger door. “In,” he barks, nudging me. Leaning in, he presses me into the seat as he grabs the belt. His well-trimmed beard brushes along my jaw for the briefest second, and the touch is intimate in a way I’m not prepared for. My breath catches, and I find myself swallowing the sudden lump in my throat.
Damn it.
The seatbelt clicks into place, and he yanks it tight—hard enough to make me gasp. His eyes flick to mine, one brow arching as though he’s baiting me. When I say nothing, he shuts the door and rounds the car to the driver’s side. I fold my arms and huff loudly as he takes his seat behind the wheel. “You do know that in most countries, this is a crime, right?”
“You might act like a child, but you aren’t one,” he retorts, gunning the engine. “So it’s not kidnapping.”
“Oh, so whatisthe legal term for this, counselor?”
“If anything… it's abduction.” He flips on the blinker, pulling away from the curb. “I call it bringing my wife home.”
“That’s cute. I call it grounds for annulment.”
He glances at me, and I can’t quite read his eyes.Amusement, maybe. Or disdain.“Do you think Alek would go through all the trouble of blackmailing us, just to let you out of it the following morning?”
“I think Alek doesn’t get to dictate where I live.”
“Wrong again.” His tone is maddeningly casual.Does anything get a rise out of him?“He dictatedexactlythat when he made you my problem. I’m just ensuring it happens.”
I keep my gaze fixed out the passenger window to keep from seeing the smugness on Nikolai’s face. The ride is short, but every red light feels like an eternity. I keep my gaze fixed out the window, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing me fume. We pull into the parking garage. After coming to a stop in his assigned space, he kills the engine and turns toward me. “You can make this easy, Ani. Or you can make it difficult.”
Turning slowly to face him, I stare at him for a moment before sassing, “Difficult. Obviously.”
“Good.” He grins, and for a second, I think he might actually be enjoying this. “I was starting to get bored.”
“You are su?—”
He slips from the driver’s seat and shuts the car door before I can tell him exactly where he can shove his boredom. Nikolai rounds the car quickly, swinging my door open and gently—but firmly—grabbing my arm before I can even reach for the seatbelt. He hauls me out of the car as I readjust the sheet, my stomach turning at the thought of parading through another buildingwith it as my attire. “This is insane,” I hiss as he shuts the door behind me.
“Probably,” he quips. “But it’s happening.”
He leads me to the elevator, and I can’t help but feel grateful that we are bypassing the lobby and heading straight to his apartment. The ride is silent but charged. He is standing so close that his warmth heats my bare arm, even when he momentarily lets his rough hand fall from my skin. And I hate that I notice. The doors slide open with a ding, and he leads me across the hall with confidence, as if the outcome of him barging into my room this morning was never in question.
Maybe it wasn’t.
With a heavy click, the door to the apartment shuts behind us followed by the distinct sound of it locking automatically. I glance at it over my shoulder, weighing up my odds of escape, but I find Nikolai towering between me and the door. Barefoot and wearing only this sheet, I’d rather not have to sprint down the streets of Manhattan.Well… unless it comes to that.
Nikolai leisurely strolls past me into the open-plan kitchen like he is returning home from the grocery store, not dragging in a reluctant—and abducted—wife. After shaking off his jacket, he carelessly tosses it over the back of one of the barstools surrounding the dark gray island occupying the center of the room. He opens one of the lower cabinets under the countertop and pulls out a bottle of water. Without eyes leaving me, he lifts the bottle and takes a slow drink as though he’s currently contemplating this situation.
“Don’t look at me like that,” I warn, tightening my grip on the sheet.
He chuckles into the bottle, a smile pulling at the corner of his lips as he lowers it from them. “Too late.”
My eyes narrow at the suggestive look in his. “Are you seriously just going to ignore the fact that you dragged me naked out of my hotel room?”
“Naked?” He arches a brow. “I gave you a fucking sheet.”
