Page 26 of Wrapped in Perfection

What is happening to me?

He holds his hands in the air in front of him. In a soft voice, he says, "Do you think I'm going to hurt you?"

I'm shaking, and I don't know why.

He slowly moves toward me and pulls me into his chest. He brushes his lips on my head. "Why are you scared, kotik?"

His arms and woodsy, amber scent calm me.

Get a grip.

"I'm fine," I reply, but it comes out shaky. This hasn't happened to me before. My anxiety turns to embarrassment and grows from his next question.

He tilts my chin so I can't avoid him. His green eyes darken, and his voice is stern. "Anna, what did he do to you?"

So much shame fills me. "Nothing."

"You lie to me." He says it softly, and as a fact, not a question.

I close my eyes, not wanting to look into his and hoping to stop the pooling tears in mine.

"Tell me it's over with him, and you aren't going back."

I open my eyes. "My stuff is still there."

His jaw clenches. "I see. But things can be replaced. You cannot, my beautiful kotik."

I glance into the darkness, not used to being called beautiful, or feeling safe, like I do in his arms, or the pulse in my body growing every second he holds me.

He kisses my forehead. "Let's go to dinner. We will talk more about this later."

I don't want to talk about it later. But something tells me there is no point arguing.

He reaches to take my hand, but I'm still clutching my phone and wallet.

"I... I forgot to bring a purse. My other one..."

He takes my phone out of my hand and slides it in his pocket. "Give me your ID. Leave the wallet."

I obey.

His lips brush the back of my hand and tingles race up my arm. He devours my body with his eyes, glances behind me to my ass, and pins his gaze to mine. "Looks like they made this dress just for you."

Butterflies take off in my stomach. For the first time, I notice a chest tattoo peeking out from under his shirt. I decide to be bold and trace what I can see with my finger. "What is this of?"

"It's Russian. It says, 'No past, no future.'"

I repeat it.

"Without our past, we cannot have our future. It shapes us and determines what we will and will not tolerate going forward. We can never forget the past lessons, or they will be repeated in our future."

I inhale deeply, letting it sink into my head.

He wraps his arm around my waist, and his palm sits on my ass cheek. He leans down to my ear. "I'm hungry, my kotik." His hand lightly squeezes my ass, making me think he's not hungry for food but me. And no man has ever made me feel that way before.

Dmitri leads me out of the penthouse and into his car, not taking his hand off my bottom until I slide onto the seat.

I instantly miss it. As self-conscious as Mitch has made me about my ass, I love the feel of his palm on it.

---