by Bethany-Kris
Masha sighed. “I’d convinced Karine we’d go down and get breakfast, but she wanted to wash her face. And then she just walked out of the bathroom.”
“Katina, you mean. I’m sure you know as much as I do,” Roman started, “that Karine and Katina are not the same person.”
Masha remained silent at that. She had no answer, and he wasn’t expecting one. He did think it might be beneficial for her to know something Katina had once told him, though. The way Masha spoke made him think that it wasn’t something Katina had also shared with her. Was that because Katina trusted him, or because she didn’t trust her?
Roman figured ... Masha should know what he did, if only to better care for Karine. Because he did think the woman had good intentions. “Katina pretends to be Karine—she’ll manipulate that way.”
She stilled. Then, slowly, Masha glanced up to meet his gaze. “I wondered, but ...”
“What?”
“She’s new—I couldn’t pinpoint exactly when she started coming around. It could have been before the first time I met her, but I’m the last person Katina cares to speak to. You understand?”
He didn’t, but he did at the same time.
And what was done was done.
Likely.
“Are you okay?” he asked, eyeing her hand.
Masha looked down, the bloody smears on her hands not at all concerning her as she nodded quickly. “Yes, of course, I’m fine. I was just cleaning up, but I heard you arrive. That man cut his hand, and there was a lot of blood.”
“He cut his hand, or his hand was cut?”
Even her choice of words were habitual. How long had this woman been the one saving grace in Karine’s life—and why did she still feel like an unknown piece to the puzzle to him? Masha kept her head down, refusing to reply or correct her words.
Roman figured—her choice. None of this was her fault. “Why don’t you go down to reception, and see if you can find more towels, some fresh sheets, whatever you need. If someone approaches about a noise complaint, or to ask questions, tell them to call through to the room for me.”
Masha looked almost relieved when she met his eyes again. “You’ll be okay here?” she asked.
It took a nod of his head for her to hurry away.
Roman hadn’t bothered to ask where Katina was, but frankly, he didn’t really need to.
• • •
Outside the bathroom attached to the master bedroom of the suite, Roman listened to the gentle slosh of water against the marble bathtub inside. He had a mind to leave her be, if only because he could sense she was safe, but he had a feeling that wasn’t how to best work with Katina.
He did knock lightly before opening the door, his only warning to his entrance. Steam rolled through the open doorway the second he stepped inside only to blink furiously to get the misty sting out of his eyes. He moved towards the bathtub where he found a pleased Katina submerged right up to her shoulders in water hot enough to turn her skin pink.
And God.
She was a sight.
Her especially pale skin was colored only by that heated flush, but her cheeks held an extra pinch of pink. Silky dark hair had pasted to her face and chest, making her eyes look big and watery. She stared up at him with those plump lips of hers parted slightly, like she might be ready for him to lean in and take a kiss. She would make the perfect picture of a dangerous, mythical creature emerging from a misty lake, capable of seducing and devouring her victim before they even understood what had happened.
The fact he’d noticed how tempting her mouth was proved he wasn’t immune to her charm.
He knew it was Katina, not Karine. He knew it from the dip in her brows, the keenness of her gaze; how the edges of her lips curled softly in a maybe-smile. The chill that ran down his spine while she watched him wasn’t entirely cold, but it still tingled with a thread of fear. It was in her eyes that he found it—how those orbs swept him up, and then down.
Everybody was prey.
“Oh, good, you’re here,” she remarked, rolling her eyes.
Katina wasn’t at all bothered by her nakedness, or the fact she was entirely on display for him under the hot water.
Though he wouldn’t ask, he couldn’t help but wonder about last night—even that morning. He’d had Karine, felt the way she shivered with delight when he’d buried himself so deep for her to take his load, then fell asleep with her in his arms only to wake up beside her. This was not the same woman. Did Katina have those memories? Had she experienced it at all?
He couldn’t be more in over his head.
“I heard about what happened earlier,” he noted, raising his brow as if to offer it however she wanted to take it. “Thought you might need someone to check on you—make sure you’re okay.”
Katina cocked her head to one side, the little knot in her brows furrowed deeply. “Why shouldn’t I be okay? I’m great.”
That smile grew on her face.
Sensual, and wicked.
Roman stepped in her direction to get a bit closer, and only hesitated when he saw her pulling a paring knife out of the bath water. She didn’t do it in a threatening way, but just held it up over the water where he could see it.
Like she intended for him to know she still had it. Apparently, nobody had been able to take the knife away from her, yet.
Roman eyed the knife, then Katina again. He wasn’t afraid of the weapon, and she wasn’t exactly threatening him with it, so he was fine to act like it didn’t really matter.
She gripped it tightly while she made the blade dance along the surface of the water, the small pot lights overhead catching the glint of the metal, and the waves of the steaming water to dance along the tile.
“You know, none of this would have happened if you had just been here like you said you would be,” she told him, her tone almost careless though every word had its own impact for Roman. Now, she wasn’t looking at him, as the knife in her hand had gained all of her attention.
“No, it probably wouldn’t have,” he agreed. “The first mistake they made was letting you go downstairs.”
Katina’s smile deepened into a smirk, her enjoyment of dissecting the scene of her own violent-making clear when she replied, “Well, they couldn’t have stopped me even if they wanted to. I wanted to eat at the restaurant.”
She turned to him with bliss-hooded eyes, and he only urged her on.
“And what did you do next? Did you ask for a knife to cut your fruit with?”
She breathed in deeply, and he made a careful effort to keep his gaze from wandering to where her breasts rose and fell, just beneath the surface of the water.
“I do like my fruit, and I like it sliced just so,” Katina said with a nod and a teasing smile while Roman shook his head.
It was the sound of his disappointment falling out in a sigh that seemed to bother Katina the most when she scowled suddenly. He didn’t think she actually cared about what he thought until that moment.
“That man shouldn’t have touched me,” she snapped.
“Maybe not, but he was also trying to keep you safe.”
Katina hissed a breath past clenched teeth. “You’re the one who made her feel unsafe.”
He stopped at that. Katina’s lips trembled as she pursed them together, almost pouting, but not quite because it was clear she just wanted to stop herself from talking. She had allowed that split second of weakness before the stoniness returned to her eyes again.
“You’re talking about Karine?” he asked.
“Yes, you already know. You were supposed to make her feel safe here—you didn’t. We talked, remember. In the car, we talked, Roman. You left. Abandoned her. Made her wonder if you’d ever—”
“Of course I was coming back,” he interjected, refusing to even let her get the words out. “I know that being here isn’t like being back in Chicago—but goddammit, the bubble that Maxim created around your whole world doesn’t exist here. I can’t be in her sight twenty-four-seven. It�
��s just not possible. There are other problems to handle. Things I have to take care of to keep her safe.”
From his vantage point, he could see the dribble of blood on the blade of the knife. Most of it had been washed away in the bath water, but some remained. The faintest trickle. He watched as Katina brought the blade closer to her face, heart thudding in his chest. She was only predictable in the way that she was unpredictable. He didn’t know what she was capable of doing next.
Not that he wanted to, but he watched her for the moment because he might need to stop any act of self-harm. She didn’t suggest it, but he assumed the only way to know for sure was to plan for the worst, hope for the best.
“Karine doesn’t understand that,” Katina continued, her words a low murmur. So soft that Roman had to lean closer to hear her. He wondered if she actually meant those words for him, or just herself.
The tip of the blade met her bottom lip as her gaze transfixed on his once more. That mouth of hers—the same one he’d kissed last night, parted with his own, tasted until she was gasping for air—was now painted with the smear of red dribbling down to the tip of the knife. Katina didn’t seem bothered by it, although Roman didn’t know whose blood it was. She licked it without warning, making every muscle in his body grow taut.
“You’ll have to kill him now,” she told him.
Not once did she take her eyes off him, either. It was easy to forget who the predator was in the room when she was beautiful. Heavy and thick in his throat, he forced the lust down and focused on forming the words struggling to get out.
She bobbed gently in the water, the wavy surface lapping against silky, wet pinked skin. He knew exactly how that skin felt to the touch—how soft and perfect she was sighing softly when he tasted it.
Why was he enjoying this?
She was violence and sex wrapped in one. Dangerous to him in all the worst ways.
“The bull,” she replied with a casual wave of the blade, the glint catching her eye as another fleeting, vicious smile curved her lips. “Anyone who hurts me, even if it’s with one touch—well, they have to die.”
Roman rocked on his heels, sucking air through his teeth while he considered that statement. His mind raced to come up with a way to combat Katina on the spot. She was glowering up at him, proudly, with her chin thrust high, expecting an instantaneous answer. The only one she felt was acceptable.
He also couldn’t let her think it worked that way. She was already vicious enough without him giving her an all-out pass to cut every soul that so much as looked at her in a way she thought hurt. There was no doubt times when she had been justified; today was a good example of the fact it wasn’t every time.
“But you’ve taken care of it already. You say he hurt you, and you hurt him back,” he replied. “You can trust you’ve taught him a valuable lesson about how you should be treated.”
Katina’s breasts heaved with a breath. “That’s no fun.”
His grin was probably too devilish for his own good. He knelt down on the tiled floor by the bathtub, meeting her at eye level. She sniffled quick, heaving her shoulders up from the tears she held back. He’d not been expecting that.
“You don’t need that, do you?” he asked, nodding to the knife.
Maybe because she was done with her game, or she truly did want to give the weapon to him, Katina handed it over. The second he had the blade stuffed down the back pocket of his pants and—presumably—out of her reach should he be quick enough, Roman asked, “Is that what you were trying to do in Chicago? Hurt the people who hurt you?”
When he looked into her eyes, he expected to find the answer, even without words. That was exactly what he got because Katina said nothing.
“Don’t fuck this up—I’m trying to help.”
Katina’s brows furrowed. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“You’re a smart girl. You’ll figure it out.”
Her lips trembled before she hid it by pressing them in a grim line. Roman decided, they could both have their pride.
“I want to talk to Karine, and I’m sure she would like to see me. Can I have her back now?”
He didn’t know if Katina could control when she switched. It didn’t seem like Karine could. Was it triggered, in some ways? On-demand in others?
Jesus.
He worried that he knew as much as she did, and it wasn’t nearly enough.
Katina glared at him, and he held her gaze, calmly. If there were other things she wanted to say, she didn’t plan on sharing them with him today. Her nostrils flared with a shaky gulp of air, and she swung her face away from him.
He caught the way she closed her eyes tight, her body momentarily going limp almost in the same second she regained control. Still, he lunged forward to circle her sinking body with his other arm before she fell completely into the water.
Already blinking back at him, a familiar warm gaze glimmered. For a few moments, her pupils shifted from side to side, confusion tugging at her brow, but then she saw him.
That pink in her cheeks reddened. Visible happiness reflected in her clear, wide eyes, and it damn near took his breath away.
“You’re back,” Karine whispered, smiling wide.
“Yeah, babe,” Roman replied, ignoring the inner emotional war that started to rage. “Of course, I am. I promised.”
TEN
Karine had never been to Vermont before, but because Roman said it’s where it was best to be—well, she knew she was safe. Not that she understood why they were there in the first place. Those unanswered questions were easier to ignore when he was around, though.
She was less muddled, then, not so overwhelmed by everything and everyone. More sure of herself—her feet had finally found steady ground to stand on when he was next to her.
And that was terrifying.
Vermont was beautiful. Woodlands and small county towns had guided their arrival to the private property owned by Roman’s family. Or so he explained to her when she gained the courage to ask during the drive. She couldn’t remember the last time she heard birds chirping in trees, but given the leaves had changed to bright yellows, oranges, and fire-reds, she didn’t think swooping swallows dancing between branches would be around for long.
Lost in the beauty of the trail surrounding a serene lake that Karine thought might be nice for a swim if it was a bit warmer, she had never been ... calmer. Happier, even. That had a lot to do with the man walking alongside her, his hand woven with her own.
“I do miss the pool,” Karine said quietly.
She felt Roman’s gaze slide her way at the admission, but she continued observing the quiet state of the lake. The pool in her father’s house was the one thing she sincerely missed about Chicago—probably the only thing—but she didn’t mind as much at the moment.
“Well, it’s a little cold to be swimming in that, but another time,” Roman said, tugging on her hand as the trail cut into a fork—one path leading up to the front porch of the lakehouse while the other continued around the water’s edge. “If you want to come back, maybe.”
She didn’t reply, but she liked the sound of it. He led her on the path heading to the looming lodge with large panel windows that formed into a high triangle where the peak of the roof reached for the cloudless, blue sky.
On the porch, Karine stood next to Roman with her hands tight around the charcoal-stained banister as she peered out at the lake. She glanced at him, taking in his strong profile with his sharp nose. His dark beard was neatly trimmed again, and his white silk shirt clung to his perfectly chiseled torso. He’d left the top two buttons of the shirt undone so she could enjoy the way his throat bobbed with every swallow.
No man had ever made her feel this way—just standing beside him was a test of her control, the goosebumps were already dancing over her skin from his proximity—and she knew what she wanted from him next.
Honesty.
“Can you tell me why we’re here, Roman? What we’re really doing?”
“I’ve brought you here because this is the only way I know how to keep you safe,” he said, never once breaking her stare as the truth came out. “There are people who might come after you—who are probably already looking for you. They’ll come after both of us, but my priority right now is you.”
Karine’s reply was as soft as the sound of her racing heart, “You mean Dima.”
Roman nodded. “You were promised to him. We both know that means something. I can bet they’re not happy you’re gone, but I can’t say for sure whether or not they know you’re with me at the moment.”
Karine sighed into the sweet, fresh air that surrounded them, willing the fears starting to swirl in her mind to disappear. What else could she do? “Okay.”
She hadn’t expected Roman to reach for her without warning, but she didn’t even flinch when his fingers brushed against her cheek as he pushed back some of the hair that had fallen across her face. As he pulled his hand away, he grazed the very tip of her nose with the pad of his thumb, saying quietly, “It’s not entirely okay, but I am trying to make it that way, babe.”
Yeah, Karine knew.
She was calm again—just like that. All it took was the sweep of his thumb, tender and quick, to stop her racing heart.
“This is the place I can keep you safe,” he added after a moment, “and where you don’t have to worry about a thing while I do it.”
She replied with a jerky nod before looking out at the lake again. A rowing boat bobbed in the water next to a small dock, a canoe, too. The fleeting—but still undeniable—thought of how easy it would be to take one of those boats out to the middle of the lake, and finish everything that stabbed through Karine’s mind at the sight. Her next breath came out shaky at the dark truth she wished wouldn’t fill her thoughts with self-hating hisses of it’s true; you’re useless, a burden.
She didn’t want to die, but none of her thoughts were a lie, either. Things could be a lot simpler; everyone’s hands would finally be washed of her.