When he brushed his lips across mine, a swirl of desire swept through every cell and every muscle. I was lightheaded, uncertain what he was getting at, but a memory… Images rushed into my mind. No, wait. As he captured my mouth, I was lost in him almost immediately. He was different, drinking from my mouth as if a dying man.

  I was breathless, stars floating in front of my eyes and images rolling through the back of my mind. No. This wasn’t possible. Not even a small chance.

  The kiss was powerful, a sweet yet deceptive moment. Nothing had changed. He wasn’t my lover. He wasn’t my friend.

  He was my captor.

  Then why was being his captive no longer terrifying?

  After pulling away, he closed his eyes. I was frozen to the spot. His fingers continued dancing across my skin, the white-hot heat building between us.

  When he stepped away, his chest was heaving. He turned around slowly and I craned my neck to see what he was doing.

  He was unbuttoning his shirt.

  I pressed my hand over my mouth and for some inexplicable reason, tears formed in my eyes. Memories surfaced, images playing in my mind like a broken record. I had no idea what to think yet I knew instinctively the reason for our strong connection.

  As he peeled his shirt away, I held my breath. The moment he allowed the shirt to slip through his fingers, I gasped, a strangled sob rushing up from the darkness.

  From the nightmares.

  Another series of images attacked my psyche. I could see his face. Not as he was now but as a young man, a boy who’d peered down at me, thankful he’d save my life.

  Scars mottled his back, crisscrossing his skin. Long and deep, they remained a testament to a dangerous boy who’d dared save the life of a little girl.

  When I broke down, several sobs escaping, he turned around. In his eyes I could see reverence, a strange and twisted joy that he’d awakened something inside us both.

  “Do you remember?” he asked, his voice dangerously sexy.

  I nodded, uncertain how I was supposed to react. When I lifted my arm, he inched closer, turning once again so I could touch his scars. My legs remained shaky, but the longing to touch him, to brush my fingers across the boy who’d saved my life overwhelming.

  With every light touch, his shoulders rose and fell and he slowly tipped his head over his shoulder. “Saving you is the best thing I’ve ever done in my life and I would do it all over again.”

  His words echoed and I wrapped my arms around him, cradling him as close to my body as possible.

  I no longer feared him or what he would do.

  There was no hate, no regret for our passion.

  There was something much deeper that gripped my very sense of being.

  He was no longer just my captor. The handsome man with the piercing eyes was my savior.

  CHAPTER 24

  Bristol

  The wash of emotions was equal to the explosion of desire.

  Unexplainable.

  Undeniable.

  As my fingers danced across Mikhail’s misshapen skin, I held my breath. His chest continued to rise and fall and there were no words needed.

  He’d saved my life when I was a child. The reality of how karma had brought us together was chilling even as red-hot heat swept into my core.

  Very slowly he turned around, his nostrils flared.

  “No. This isn’t possible,” I managed. A huge lump formed in my throat as I struggled to process what he’d said and what I was seeing. “There is no way you were… that boy.”

  “Think about it, sweet Bristol. A dark night. An amusement park. You were brought with other families to enjoy a birthday party, only it was a lie.”

  “What are you talking about? What lie?”

  “Your family and others were lured there to be killed, only we got to them first.”

  My brain was sluggish. “My parents.”

  “Obviously, they lived. Others died. We couldn’t save them all.”

  I backed away, the horror of what he was telling me something I couldn’t understand. “Why? Why try and kill us?”

  “I don’t know, but I have no doubt whatever your father was into at the time was the reason.”

  “My father? You bastard.” On instinct and preservation of my family’s honor, I reacted without thinking, striking him with the palm of my hand. He didn’t react at first, merely taking several deep breaths.

  “Think about it, Bristol. You deserve to know the truth.”

  “Yes, I do.” I glanced away, confused and angry, uncertain and so deeply sad that I had no idea what to think. He gripped my chin. Not from anger or the need to punish me. His touch was gentle as he turned my head.

  “We both deserve the truth. I was there that night as a soldier. We were at war with the Irish, who were threatening our territory. I know you can’t understand or respect my family’s legacy and the life I was born into, but we were under attack.”

  I didn’t try to escape. I didn’t fight him. This was something I needed to hear.

  “On that night, we killed many Irishmen in retaliation. We also destroyed millions of dollars in illegal drugs. The amusement park was a front for their illegal activities. It was destroyed. Unfortunately, we had no idea an event was going on. Families with children. We did what we could to save them. When I saw you lost and running directly into harm’s way, something broke inside of me. There was no way I could let you die. You need to believe me, Bristol.”

  I did. That was the craziest thing of all. I believed everything he was telling me. “Why were we there?”

  “Your father prosecuted the Irish leader’s son twenty plus years ago, but changed course later, allowing him to go free when the evidence pointed to the man being guilty. Ask yourself if that’s a coincidence.”

  “So what are you suggesting?”

  “That either your father was threatened with the lives of his family or that he was bought off.”

  Darker emotions surged and I fisted my hand around his shirt. “I can’t believe…” But I could. “You think what’s happening now including Sergio’s death is linked to the past.”

  “I do and it’s vital I discover the truth. I don’t want to hurt you or your father, but I will not allow my family to be destroyed.”

  When he looked me in the eyes, I sensed he was doing everything to allow me to see the man inside. Was it possible my father was dirty? Was it possible I’d lived a lie my entire life? “You locked me in the basement.” I whispered the words as if they continued to matter.

  “Yes.”

  “You’re horrible.”

  “Yes. I’m sorry, Bristol. I’m sorry I couldn’t be the hero you either want or deserve.”

  I took a step closer, pummeling my fists against his chest. “How could you. How…” Another image crashed through the veil, the vision much clearer than before. His face. His young face.

  Mikhail gripped my arms. “I’m sorry.”

  “You saved me.” Confusion gripped my mind with the ferocity of a tiger. I couldn’t believe what he’d told me was the truth, yet I’d felt it inside.

  The closeness.

  The need.

  The knowing.

  Almost from minute one, the second he’d touched me. The connection was brutal and unforgiving just like the man.

  “I’ve done many horrible things in my life, Bristol, but allowing a child to die is not one of them and never will be.”

  Jerking away, I pressed the heels of my hands against my eyes. “This is crazy. Impossible.”

  “But it happened.”

  I slowly opened my eyes, studying his face and expression, the haunted look I’d seen before. He was telling me the truth.

  There was a kind of delight in his eyes, raw yet possessive, his hot breath skipping across my face. I was momentarily mesmerized, the exotic, woodsy scent of him filtering into my nostrils, slip-sliding all the way down to my toes. When he allowed his gaze to fall ever so slowly to my chest, I was left breathless and uncertain how to feel or react, embarrassed that my nipples were rock hard, highlighted by the thin material of the flimsy dress I’d chosen.

  I pressed my hand against his chest, the tips tingling from the slight touch. As I lifted my head, still amazed by how his eyes continuously searched my soul, I knew our lives were forever intertwined.

  After cocking his head, he brushed the fingers of his other hand down the side of my neck, swirling the tip of his index finger around my jugular. I’d never experienced anyone like him. So dominating.

  So possessive.

  “So beautiful,” he whispered in a husky tone. “It’s going to be a pleasure to take all of you.” He wrapped his hand around my neck, holding me in place as he lowered his head until our lips were centimeters apart.

  He brushed hair from my shoulder, tangling his fingers briefly before sliding his hand around the back of my neck.

  “What happened on that night?”

  His laugh was subtle yet choked. “Hell on earth.”

  I believed him.

  “None of that matters any longer. You’re mine, Bristol. My perfect angel. All mine.”

  His possessive tone was even colder than before, as if he couldn’t live or breathe without me by his side.

  I struggled in his firm hold until his hand tightened, squeezing with enough pressure I knew he could snap my neck. But that wasn’t his intention. He was claiming what he truly believed belonged to him. When he pressed his lips against mine, I took several raspy breaths. “We can’t do this.”

  Mikhail issued a series of low growls, the deep sound vibrating in my chest. “Yes, we can and we will.”

  Every part of my body remained on edge, shrinking back as much as his hold would allow. My conscience was fighting with the realization that if I surrendered to this man, this merciless killer, there would be no going back.

  Exhaling, he pulled away by several inches. Then without warning, he claimed my mouth. I pushed my hands against him, trying to break the connection, but it was no use. I refused to open my mouth as he shoved his tongue against my lips, but the anguish of his fingers digging into my jaw forced an involuntary action.

  His actions forceful, he swirled his tongue against mine, teasing relentlessly. The taste of him was overtly masculine, the flavors of whiskey and what had to be cinnamon enticing my taste buds. I should try to refuse him, to drive him away, but he was far too powerful, able to hold me in place with ease. And I’d never felt so safe or so alive in my life. Everything about him was larger than life, the kiss so all-consuming that it sucked all the air out of my lungs. I was lightheaded, stars floating in the periphery of my vision.

  The same stubble on his jaw I’d found so sexy scraped against my skin, igniting a firestorm of desire burning between my legs. I couldn’t believe I was wet, the dampness between my legs adding to the wave of embarrassment. For a few incredible seconds, I found myself falling into the kiss, the moment of pure sin unlike anything I’d ever experienced. I was almost drunk on my desire, dizzy from the passion, no longer able to feel my legs. If the brute of a man hadn’t been holding me, there was no doubt I’d stumble and fall.

  Everything about this was so wrong, on every level. I wasn’t supposed to be attracted to a monster. I couldn’t be. I just…

  He gave me no choice, gathering me in his arms while dominating my tongue. I clung to him, wrapping my arms around his neck, the uncertainty of what this meant creating another wave of excitement so powerful I could no longer breathe or think.

  When he broke the kiss, he peered down at me, his eyes completely unfocused. There were so many questions in my mind. Why had he been forced to save me? What had happened that night? Why were we there?

  And who had he been?

  Yet he was right before. None of the unanswered questions mattered at least right now.

  All that did was the longing to touch and taste, to feel his cock thrusting inside of me.

  Filling me.

  Every step taken methodical, he moved up the basement stairs, heading through the house to the steps leading to the bedrooms.

  Morning had dawned, the bright sun a reminder that with every darkness came a light to toss aside the shadows. Sadly, the ghosts of our past had come back to haunt us. Now I feared the strange connection created in a moment of tragedy two decades before would eventually be a noose wrapped around our necks.

  But even in the moment of fear, the sense of belonging was undeniable.

  I caressed his chest, marveling at his amazing physique, even resting my head against his shoulder. He kissed the top of my head as if letting me know everything would be alright. That he’d keep his promise not to hurt me, instead protecting me against the unknown enemy.

  A part of me needed to believe him. The reason was easy. I hungered for this man like no other, craving the roar of darkness that fed the woman inside.

  I was no longer a little girl, but a woman with wants and needs, satisfaction something only he could provide.

  He took me into a bedroom, the beautiful setting as unexpected as the man. The king-size bed was huge, the thick dark wooden posts creating a space meant for a powerful man. He swept the pillows aside, gently easing me onto the comforter. He placed a single knee on the bed, shaking his head as he peered down at me.

  I was going nowhere.

  And in truth, I didn’t want to.

  We were drawn to each other like moths to a flame, although I knew in my gut that my actions and submission could create the kind of combustible fire that could turn into acid, scarring both of us. I was taking a significant chance on trusting him, but I did.

  Perhaps with everything inside of me.

  What did that say about my resolve? Or my mind?

  The truth was I wanted him more than possible, more than I should.

  He brushed his lips along my jaw then down and against the column of my neck, allowing his hot breath to cascade across my skin. Very slowly he lowered his hand, swirling his fingers to sweep back and forth.

  Across my arm.

  Across my breast.

  Crawling his fingers down to the hem of my dress.

  I stiffened, sucking in my breath when he eased the slip of material up to my thigh. As he exhaled, he rubbed his knuckles back and forth across my leg, my skin tingling from the gentleness of his touch.

  Very gently he removed my dress, pitching it aside while never taking his eyes off me. Using all four fingers, he brushed the tips down from my forehead, gently sliding them to my neck as if tracing me for his long-term memory.

  I remained silent, still unable to catch my breath. He continued his slow exploration, his eyes filled with lust. As he swirled a finger around my nipple, I took a series of short breaths, tingling to the point I was shaking all over.

  “My perfect angel,” he whispered in utter reverence, the tone holding a hint of sadness.

  I was caught in a dream, the nightmare no longer existing. I’d envisioned the man who’d saved me, creating a magical figure in my mind.

  A powerful man capable to doing extraordinary deeds.

  Strong and handsome.

  My hero.

  And here he was, only the hero was tarnished with blood and violence. How could the two be the same?

  He cocked his head, his eyes never leaving me, but a daring smile crossed his face the moment he pinched my already aching bud between his fingers. Arching my back, a moan slipped from my lips. The pain was entirely different, extraordinary in a way that kept quivers vibrating through my system.

  “Ideal’nyy angel.”

  Every time he called me his perfect angel, I felt guilty. I wasn’t supposed to hunger for a man so determined to break me, but here I was, wet and hot. My pussy muscles clenched, the sheer anticipation of his cock being plunged deep inside creating stars in vibrant colors.

  With his eyes now hooded, he flicked his finger across my other nipple, dipping down to suckle the tender tissue in his hot mouth.

  I fisted my hands, never blinking as I watched him unravel me with such expertise, I was breathless. The passion from before seemed a world away. Mikhail was an entirely different man with unbridled needs. When he leaned back, he issued a series of husky growls. He was taking his time, exploring every inch of me and I had no doubt he was memorizing every freckle, every mole.

  I’d never felt so adored as I did with him. Knowing we shouldn’t be together only boosted the excitement. He rolled his pinky around my belly button, his heavy sigh and tense muscles an indication he was losing his patience.

  Yet he wanted to paint me with his touch, to allow the moment of sweet surrender to linger. When he touched the skin only centimeters away from my pussy, I jerked up from the bed, laughing since I was ticklish.

  He chuckled in response, even wagging his finger as if warning me not to try to escape. Of course the bad girl in me wanted to do exactly that.

  Easing his knee off the bed, he trailed his fingers down one leg, eyeing me carefully as he bent my knee, pressing it against the bed. I was more exposed than ever.

  “Do not move,” he stated, his tone even more authoritative.

  I remained where I was until he backed away by a few feet. He was so damn gorgeous, his carved physique even more impressive than I’d thought before. As he unfastened his belt, taking his time to do so, my mouth watered in anticipation.

  Easing onto my elbows, I darted my eyes back and forth, watching the exquisite show as he removed his clothes. The man was godlike, perfect in every way. Every muscle was carved, every sinewy tendon providing a perfect outline of his strength.

  Broad shoulders.

  Chiseled chest.

  Sculpted abs.

  What wasn’t there to appreciate and crave?

  When he was finished, he returned to the bed, sitting on the edge and gathering my legs into his arms. After giving me another heated look, he lowered his head. This time his hot breath scalded my skin. I cried out and dropped to the bed, immediately pressing one hand over my mouth.

  The electric sensations intensified. I was in a dream state and the first time he swirled his tongue around my clit, I thought I’d go mad. He repeated the sinful action three times before pulling the tender tissue into his mouth.