Page 23 of Kidnapped By the Mafia Boss
“Zayka. I need to Google that.” I finish licking the honey from my fingers, but they’re still shiny and wet.
“If it’ll stop you torturing me…” He passes me a napkin, then slides his phone from his pocket, unlocks it, and offers it to me as I dry my hands and gape.
It’s his turn to shock me, it seems. Just giving me his phone is an incredible level of trust. I could check his messages, delete all his contacts, or call the police and ask them to pick me up and save me.
I don’t do any of those things. After all, my own phone is in my bag in the house. Forgotten. I haven’t felt the need to be on social media when I’ve been with him, and however much I say he’s keeping me here, I haven’t made even a token effort to escape.
I feel safe with him, despite everything.
“Translate ‘zayka’ from Russian to English,” I ask the digital assistant.
“Unknown,” replies the robotic voice.
I scowl and Voronov laughs, breaking through the tension I created.
“Your Russian needs some work.” Holding out his hand for the phone, I pass it over and he speaks in Russian into it, including the word that he calls me. Zayka.
“The big bad wolf chases the little rabbit,” the voice says.
I blink in disbelief. “Little rabbit.”
“Yes.” He regards me levelly. “Or bunny.”
A small, soft furred, nervous creature. Known forbreeding. And he’s a wolf, with a bunny in his jaws.Mywolf.
“Is that how you think of me?” My tummy flutters again.
“You like to run, no?” He leans back into his chair, so relaxed, phone discarded on the table.
I take the phone, and tell the assistant to translate to Russian. “The bunny leads the wolf into a trap.”
He grins. “Clever little rabbit.”
I can’t help but return his smile. This is a game I’d play all day, as the stilted voice repeats the phrase in Russian. A shiver goes down my spine. This is what I wanted from a date. It’s the two of us together, flirting in the weirdest way, and discovering each other.
Voronov beckons me, and I pass the phone.
The sound of his native language when he speaks it is entrancing in the smooth black night, the sky above us full of stars that twinkle in the distance and the glow of the string lights in the tree.
“The wolf loves to eat the bunny,” the translation says.
“We already had dinner!”
He bares his teeth and runs his tongue over his lip in a blatantly carnal and erotic movement.
Revenge for my teasing him with the cake.
The twist of need makes me shift in my chair, trying to put pressure on my clit. My knees press together, and a little shudder goes through me at the tiny sensation. It’s not enough.
Heat fizzes between us.
It’s undeniable.
“I’d stilleat,” he says softly.
10
DIMITRI
