Persuasion

by Stone, Piper

  “I meant what I said earlier, Kostya, only you refuse to trust anyone, including yourself. I feel sorry for you. You’re a good man, caring and I know how you feel about me. Why? I have no idea, but I’ve felt it when you let the armor fall away.”

  Words. They were just words and ones I couldn’t give a damn about.

  As the plane began to roll down the runway, I eased into the seat on the other side of the plane, not even bothering to fasten my seatbelt. Who the hell cared?

  I closed my eyes briefly, hearing the clicking of her belt, a slight whimper as we took off, the sound giving me a smile. She didn’t like flying.

  I allowed my mind to shift over the occurrences once again. Dante’s warning held no indication he’d known of the timing of the attack, only that he expected one to happen within hours. I didn’t buy it. I would enjoy grilling him until he told me the truth. The lull of the plane’s engines was calming, allowing a portion of the tension to fade.

  I was in a calm place, a sanctuary in my mind and one I’d visited often during the years. I was even able to hear the beautiful strains of the concerto.

  The single slice of cold against my cheek brought an instant reaction, my hand snapping forward.

  “Kostya. It’s me,” Giliana said, her eyes open wide.

  My fingers had twisted around her wrist, tugging her closer. I could see the glass in her hand but all I could concentrate on was the fullness of her lips, still rosy in color from the passion we’d shared. I yanked the glass from her hand as I leaned forward. “Be careful sneaking up on me, little princess.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind. Sir.” She nodded toward the bag. “Do you happen to have anything in your giant duffle I could wear?”

  I half laughed. “Help yourself.”

  “You don’t know where we’re going?”

  “No. Somewhere safe.”

  “You’re certain?” she asked in a pained voice.

  “I’m no longer certain of one. Damn. Thing.” I glanced out the window into the darkness, fingering the glass she’d offered. I’d been required to handle extraordinarily difficult situations over the years. This one was much more taxing, damning in every way.

  I turned my head, watching as Giliana shifted toward the back of the plane, a stack of clothes in her hands. “You’re worth loving.” Her words reverberated in my mind. She was wrong. Dead wrong.

  Wherever we landed, my instinct told me that I’d have an impossible time attempting to keep her safe. An unsettling feeling crawled through every vein and muscle, tightening its claws.

  One if not both of us were targets.

  Marked for death.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Giliana

  Love.

  L.O.V.E.

  No matter how the word was whispered or spelled, the concept terrified the hell out of me. The words he’d spouted off had shaken me, driven me to running the moment the electricity had snapped off. There was no way of knowing who was outside, gunning for the people who held me captive. I just knew that the only chance of survival I would have was getting as far away as possible.

  Even though my heart ached the entire time, every step more painful than the one before.

  I was rattled to the point I could no longer think straight. He’d found me, capturing me for a second time. I would never be able to get away from him, the dark and emotionless Russian who’d managed to snag every heartstring.

  I studied him before grabbing something I could change into, his pensive face and tense muscles giving away a secret. He had no idea what we were facing. He’d reacted to a horrible situation, which meant that whoever had opened fire had been a serious threat.

  My father?

  I doubted that was possible. He didn’t have the connections to the kind of men who carried the military-style weapons. I knew enough about guns to know the difference. The intruders certainly hadn’t been law enforcement.

  Which left Kostya’s enemies.

  I swallowed hard, my legs still shaking from the ordeal as I walked toward the back of the plane. He’d allowed me to see his scars, at least physically. He would never invite me in to soothe the damage done to his mind. At least I knew why he was the kind of man who could do such atrocious acts, violence that far outweighed anything my father could do.

  And I still loved him.

  God! I was so freaking pathetic, a hopeless idiot. I turned my back, gently placing the items on the back of one of the luxurious leather seats. We were on a private plane stocked with every luxury anyone could desire. Food. Drink. Gifts. And Kostya was just as uncomfortable in his surroundings as he’d been in the house in New Orleans.

  So many layers.

  So many secrets.

  I had no idea who or what to believe any longer.

  As I tugged off the dress, I could feel his heated gaze on me, drinking in my naked body. I slid my fingers to my neck, brushing the tips across the jagged wound. He’d been so gentle in his manner of caring for me, truly concerned I’d been hurt.

  Or was it all a lie?

  I refused to look in his direction, couldn’t even begin to think about caring for him any longer. I had to move into survival mode, observing everything and everyone around me. Maybe I could make some kind of trade for my life.

  Wasn’t that a crock of shit? What did I have to offer that would possibly manage to keep me alive?

  The chill I felt snaking its way down my body had nothing to do with the air temperature in the plane. I could still feel his eyes burning into me, his hunger drawing on my energy. I’d loved the sinful time we’d spent together earlier in the evening, although his admission had changed everything.

  “Come here,” he stated in his usual authoritative manner.

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re required to.”

  I shuddered hearing his words, the magnificent baritone that wrapped around me. The tone was huskier, savage in nature. He couldn’t break our connection any more than I was able. There was no reason for me to obey him, yet I found myself shifting in his direction. A lump formed in my throat, the humiliation of being naked in front of him more powerful than earlier in the evening.

  “If I have to ask you again, your punishment will be worse.”

  Shameful. It was utterly appalling that he still had this level of control over me.

  But he did.

  What was even more embarrassing was that I continued to wear the anal plug. I hadn’t bothered to remove it during the attack. I almost laughed at the thought. I was smack in the middle of God knows where, my bottom stuffed with a ridiculous sex toy he’d required that I wear at all times.

  Even while the house was being firebombed.

  Jesus.

  I held my arms in front of me, clasping my hands together, my feet heavy and tender from the brutal run. He’d switched positions, now sitting in one of the single seats facing me, leaning against the smooth leather as if this was merely another moment in time.

  Kostya looked regal albeit as dangerous as ever, the tight tee shirt he’d selected highlighting every muscle sculpted in his roughhewn body. He’d rested his elbow on the arm of the chair, his hand positioned in front of his face, his index finger sliding back and forth across his voluptuous lips. Every move he made was provocative as well as controlling, keeping me on pins and needles.

  I inched closer, taking shallow breaths. Still lightheaded, I darted a glance toward the door to the cockpit, half expecting one or both of the pilots would appear in the doorway. I bit back a laugh at the notion. They were flying the plane to destinations unknown. Another wave of anxiety hit me. I was alone far away from home with a man I still considered a stranger.

  He studied me intently, his gorgeous baby blues mere slits. Damn, the man appeared relaxed, in his element, but I knew better. He was on edge as usual, disgruntled that he wasn’t able to control every element.

  Including me.

  When I was only a few inches away, he leaned forward, reaching out and g
rasping my hands into his. The sensations as he rubbed his thumbs across my skin were electrifying. The way his eyes burned into mine far too intense. I felt like nothing more than a mischievous girl waiting for her punishment.

  “You could have gotten yourself killed,” he said in a quiet way. Whether he was lying about his concern or not I couldn’t tell. He was the master of hiding.

  “But I didn’t.”

  “You worried me. I thought you’d been taken.”

  “By whom? Who attacked you?”

  He lifted a single eyebrow. “As I said, I’m going to figure that out. I have many enemies, Giliana, but few so bold as to attempt an assassination of that nature. If they’d gotten their hands on you then you would have been used against me. Hurting you would have been the least of their concerns. Every one of them are brutal, dangerous men who don’t bother thinking twice about humanity.”

  “If you’re trying to scare me, don’t bother. I knew exactly what level of peril I was in the moment you shoved me into that trunk.”

  A smile curled on his lip. “You have no idea what they are capable of.”

  “Does that mean you intend on protecting me?” I threw out.

  “With my life.”

  The air of sincerity was almost profound and I wanted to believe him.

  He pulled me even closer, until my legs were pressed against his knees. “Make no mistake, Giliana, you are still my prisoner. You are also under my care and protection, but I can’t do either if you attempt to flee again. If you do, I will be forced to make even more difficult choices for you, ones you will not like. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir,” I said glibly, irritating him even more.

  “I’m going to punish you as a reminder and I assure you, what I’m giving you today is nothing in comparison to what you will receive if necessary.”

  His words were so damn precise, as if practiced and polished for the cameras. Maybe the people he was working for had taught him more than just about useless criminals who’d stolen precious works of art. “Fine.”

  He exhaled, closing his eyes briefly before pulling me over his lap. He’d spanked me before, harshly and requiring obedience. This was far more intimate. I was able to feel his rock-hard cock pushing against my stomach, his continued yearning filling my tummy with butterflies.

  I clamped my eyes shut after planting my palms on the floor, vibrations from the plane shooting through my already tense muscles.

  “You are difficult,” he stated as he rubbed his fingers down my spine, allowing them to drift to the crack of my ass. There was no surprise in his tone as he muttered in Russian, twisting and turning the plug several times.

  He’d expected my obedience.

  I bit back a whimper, blood rushing to my face, horrified at the ache building in my pussy. He couldn’t do this to me any longer. I had to fight my attraction. Survival. It was the only word I would think about.

  “We will continue your training soon,” he promised, patting me on the ass.

  The first hard smack of his hand created tingles and nothing else, although I kicked out, frustrated as hell.

  The second, third, and fourth were scintillating, driving another wave of arousal into every portion of my body. The rapid strikes after that were intense, building in harshness. Pain erupted along the backs of my legs, pulsing ever so slowly up until a moan escaped my lips. I undulated on his lap, grinding against him, the scent of my desire floating all around us.

  I was disgusted, furious with myself for reacting this way.

  The spanking continued, Kostya peppering one side then the other with smack after smack. The sound of his massive palm connecting with my heated skin was oddly comforting.

  I threw my hand back, the anguish making it difficult to swallow. As he wrapped his hand around my wrist, pulling my arm against the small of my back, I struggled even harder.

  “Stop. Okay? I won’t do that again. I swear.” The words flew out of my mouth.

  “We are not finished yet, little princess. You haven’t learned your lesson.”

  Lesson? What the hell lesson was I going to learn from being disciplined in the middle of a freaking jet? Hissing, I kicked out several times, forcing him to plant his leg over mine. I was going nowhere. He spanked me long and hard, his hand covering every inch of my bottom, the heat increasing. Why did this hurt more than the belt he’d used?

  As the round of punishment continued, my nipples hardened even more, the tingling sensations between my legs forcing my pussy muscles to clamp and release. My God. I could almost climax without his touch.

  Everything was surreal, the moment shoving me into fantasyland, only I knew there was no beautiful outcome or fairy tale ending.

  His breathing became more ragged as he caressed my bruised bottom, the tips of his fingers barely touching. “You’ve done very well and you are wet, little one.”

  I had no answer.

  As I heard the slight growl in his voice, I pushed up from the floor, knowing exactly what to expect. I was rewarded with his fingers dipping into my wetness. How could this feel so amazing? How could my body react to him after everything that had occurred?

  He toyed with me for a full twenty seconds, driving me to the point of intense nirvana. Oh, God. Oh... Just when I was ready to embrace the beautiful orgasm, he began spanking me again, one coming after the other.

  He was such a damn savage.

  Asshole. Asshole.

  And I loved every minute of what he was doing to me, hating myself in the process.

  Seconds later, he pulled me onto his lap, the rough pads of his finger rubbing up and down my arm. “You are as formidable as you are beautiful.”

  As he brushed the backs of his fingers across my cheek, my vulnerability was too much to handle. I pushed away, climbing off his lap, managing to move away on shaky legs. I could no longer stand to look at him as I walked quickly toward the clothing, struggling to yank the tee shirt over my head.

  “I do care for you,” he said quietly.

  Don’t look. Don’t acknowledge.

  I stepped into the sweatpants, amusement kicking in. A beautiful five-hundred-dollar dress to this. When I was fully clothed, I still refused to turn around, the anxiety almost too much to bear. I’d learned a long time ago that everyone had fears, some disparaging enough that living what others called a normal life was an almost impossible task. So many succumbed to the darkness, the devil himself dragging them into a place of no return. So much despair.

  So much torment.

  I’d run away, embracing denial, pretending that I could simply leave the ugliness behind, but it had managed to catch up with me. Karma had beaten down the door thousands of miles away, yanking me back into my own private hell with the knowledge that had forever tainted my home. Maybe this was my punishment for ignoring the truth. Then why did Kostya feel like my only possible means of salvation?

  There were no answers that made any sense, just the brief and gut-wrenching understanding that he was my destiny.

  “I don’t know what happened to you, Kostya, but the horror of what you endured isn’t something I can even comprehend. I’ve lived a fabulous life in comparison, even though I haven’t gotten along with my father for years. What terrifies me is how scarred you are—in your mind. I want so much to be able to heal you, but I don’t know how to do that for myself. You see, I know my father had a hand in my mother’s death. I’ve known it almost all my life. I just haven’t brought myself to find a way to prove it.”

  The admission was like a weight lifted off my shoulders. I pressed two fingers over my mouth, almost gleeful I’d shared the horror of my life with him. I had no way of knowing whether it mattered but that was okay. I was strong. If I could survive my wretched suspicions, I could handle anything.

  “I don’t know why I care about you as much as I do, Kostya. You’re certainly no good for me, but I want to share a world with you. My life. Isn’t that insane? Isn’t it crazy to think that I could actually w
ant to spend a normal life with you? I mean, I have no idea if that’s even acceptable to you, but I want to go to dinner and the movies. I want to take long walks on a beach, the only place in the world that makes me truly happy. And I want to wake up next to you. I’m completely out of my mind. Sounds like stupid love. Right?” I pressed my hand against my head, loathing every word I’d just said, even though I’d meant them.

  I laughed softly, struggling with my emotions. When he said nothing, I realized I’d overstepped my bounds, but I had to see his expression. I did want him to understand that I’d run away because I couldn’t handle my feelings, not his actions.

  As I found the courage to turn around, all I could do was smile.

  He’d fallen asleep.

  * * *

  “Giliana. What a nice surprise,” my father said as he rose from his chair.

  I’d stormed into his office, bypassing his secretary with not so much as a second look. The letter my mother had sent me was postmarked only recently but written when I was still a young girl. I was sick at the thought, unable to comprehend why the asshole had dared to mail it to me now. Why not hand it to me instead?

  “This isn’t a social call,” I retorted.

  “O-kay.” He glanced down at the letter, narrowing his eyes. “I have a busy schedule. Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”

  I took long strides toward his desk, shoving the letter in his face. “This. Why did you mail this to me?”

  “I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  Laughing, I took several deep breaths before opening the letter, my fingers shaking badly enough I had difficulty even reading the words. “It’s from my mother from before she died. You waited all this time? Why?”

  He reached out, attempting to grab it from me but I jerked back. “Giliana. I didn’t mail you any letter.”

  “Then who did?”

  “I... honestly don’t know.” He finally seemed uncomfortable.

  “Right. Well, maybe you found it in her things and thought, what the heck. Did you look at it? Did you know what she wrote?”