Page 24 of Twisted Prince
Tremors rack my body, and I don’t know if it’s out of rage or fear. But that same strangling sense of confinement raises panic in my chest.
Gleb pushes off the counter, putting space between us. And I don’t know if it’s because he senses my anxiety or if he thinks I might slap him. The thought did cross my mind.
But a second later, his hand fishes into his pocket, and he pulls out his phone. “Da,” he answers, casting me a sidelong glance that tells me not to go anywhere.
Fuming, I cross my arms once more, glaring at him as I wait for him to finish his conversation. A quick exchange of Russian passes between him and the person on the other end of the line. Then he hangs up.
“The boss beckons?” I taunt, so angry that I want to lash out in whatever way I can. “Why don’t you be a good dog and run back to your master? I suppose I’ll just sit here and wait for you to visit me at your leisure.”
I don’t think I could have shocked him more if I’d actually slapped him. And guilt twists my stomach. I wish I could take the words back, but my stinging pride won’t let me.
Gleb releases a heavy breath, his nostrils flaring. The conflict in his eyes tells me what his passive expression won’t. “This conversation isn’t over,” he states flatly, dark promise staining his tone.
I press my lips together, tipping my chin defiantly, and when it’s clear I don’t intend to respond, he turns and leaves without another word. His lithe strides are catlike and utterly silent—both sexy and lethal.
God, what is wrong with me?
I never should have opened my heart to him because that’s how I let men control me.
10
GLEB
Val’s posture is tense, his hulking frame oddly out of balance without Efrem standing on the other side of Pyotr’s office door. The crutch that rests against the wall behind him reminds me that our pakhan’s not just down one bodyguard. Val’s been on limited duty since he got shot, which means Pyotr’s level of protection is entirely insufficient for the shitstorm we’re facing.
“How is he?” I ask, keeping my voice low as I reach the stoic bodyguard.
“Not good,” Val says curtly. He knows I’m asking about Pyotr without me having to say. And from the look on his face, I take it we’re going to have a rough morning. “Brace yourself,” he adds quietly.
That’s all he’s going to give me. And I’m fine with that. Of Val and Efrem, I’ve always gotten along better with Val. I think it's because we’re both more on the surly side. Him maybe more so than me, if that’s possible. But I relate to him—even if we’ve shared only a handful of words in the time I’ve known him. What I like most about Val is that I always know where I stand with him. That’s more than I could ever say about Efrem.
I take a deep breath before I knock. Then my pakhan summons me in.
“Where have you been?” Pyotr growls as soon as I enter.
“The girls’ house, getting them settled.” My voice carries the weight of my exhaustion. It took forever to get them all organized and onto the jet this morning. Like herding cats, I swear. And when we got back to the house, it was still a complete wreck. I had to sweep the building to ensure it was clear, replace the front door, and make sure enough men were in place so we wouldn’t have to do it all over again tomorrow.
Pyotr’s scowl softens, and he sits back, the tension easing from his shoulders. I sense the tongue-lashing he’d intended to give me won’t be happening now. Not that it would do much damage at this point.
I’m spent.
Sinking into a chair on the far side of his desk, I lean my head back and let my eyes drift closed.
I stayed awake for three days straight, searching for that fucking cottage where Mikhail held the girls. And last night, after Mel fell asleep in my arms, I couldn’t stop thinking about how close I came to being too late. She told me she was supposed to be auctioned off last night—that Captain Zmeya said as much before he left to handle my distraction.
I almost lost her, and now that I’ve had all of her—now that I know what it’s like to hold an angel in my arms and reach the gates of heaven—I can’t lose Mel again.
I’m still coming to terms with how desperately I need her.
I’ve never felt for any woman the way I feel about her, and now I know she wants me too. I’m dangerously close to losing my mind over her. My concern for her safety is driving me to distraction. Meanwhile, she’s so damn intent on going back to life as usual, but it would be too easy for Mikhail to target her again with the state of chaos we’re in.
And just the thought of someone touching Mel the way they touched her ever again puts me on the verge of unhinged.
“You look as bad as I feel,” Pyotr observes dryly.
I’m so sleep-deprived and tied in knots, that I nearly forgot the reason he called me here early. Sitting up, I pull myself together, scrubbing my face with my palms to bring myself back to life. “Yeah, well, it’s been a rough week.”
“No joke. At least you got the girls back.” His sharp gray gaze follows me closely as I nod.
