my fingers to my temples. “My head is killing me. I think I need…” My knees buckled.
Faster than humanly possible, it only took one long stride to bring Viktor to my side, and a thick, strong arm curled around me. He pulled me against him, and despite the throbbing in my head, my body responded to him. But darkness crept into the edge of my vision.
“Come,” Viktor said, leading me back to the bed and helping me lie down. “Just rest now. I will cook.”
I closed my eyes. I hoped when I woke up again, this would all have been a bad dream. I would be at home and everything would be normal.
Except, if that happened, Viktor wouldn’t be there.
Before I could decide how I felt about that, I slipped into a deep sleep.
Viktor
Let her rest. She’ll need it.
She was in my territory, and I made the rules here. The fact was I didn’t trust her, so as far as I was concerned, she was an outsider.
With Angela around, though, I couldn’t think straight. It was like my brain took a trip to stupid-town and my body took over. My cock throbbed painfully in my pants, even though she’d fallen asleep again. My seed was begging for release. She was just around the corner, sleeping on my bed. In my clothes that barely covered her sexy curves.
Fuck me.
Her scent would be all over those sheets by the time I slept in them. And then it would be over. I groaned at the thought, tugging at my belt. My cock was thick and hard, pressed against my leg, held in by my tight jeans. I wanted to march into that room and rip her panties off with my teeth.
When I’d changed her out of the torn clothes, her lace panties had been enough to bring a grown man to his knees. But those thoughts were exactly the reason I needed to get a hold of myself. It had been three years since I’d touched a woman, put my cock somewhere prolific. It didn’t usually bother me.
Today, it did.
I shook my head, trying to get the thought of Angela and her naked curves out of my head.
This bird needed plucking…and I was talking about the dead one lying lifeless in my living room. Preparing the pheasant would be quick and easy. I didn’t have the means to cook it the way it should be cooked – roasting it with cider and bacon was a winner. But cooking it outside over a fire worked just as well.
Perhaps not quite fit for a woman of Angela’s caliber, but then again, it wasn’t up to me to be her damn personal chef.
She’d get fed and that was all to it.
Where the fuck did she come from? The question reverberated in my head over and over. She shouldn’t be up here. It wasn’t tourist season yet. And even if it were, my cabin was far removed from wherever the hell the tourists wanted to explore - just as I carefully designed it. The only way to find my cabin was if I gave specific directions.
I didn’t get the feeling she knew who I was. When she laid her eyes on me, she’d looked me up and down like she’d never seen a motherfucker as big as me. And I’m certain she never had.
I had enough self-awareness to know I came across as a mean and intimidating force, especially with this scar. Fuck, when I wanted to look like a killer, this face was everything. But now that I didn’t want to be a killer anymore… I couldn’t trade faces any more than I could trade lives.
Just because she hadn’t seen my ugly mug before didn’t mean she didn’t know who I was. It only meant I was probably a hell of a lot more spectacular in person than in a photo.
I made a fire outside in the pit I’d dug and lined with rocks. I cooked the pheasant until the meat was golden brown and glistening with its own juices. More questions about how Angela ended up here came to mind. From parking her truck randomly in the middle of the forest and ending up in my bed.
Had Maksim sent her? I just couldn’t believe it, but I couldn’t discard it either. I huffed out a laugh. Was it all a plan? I scoffed. Pretty stupid plan. She was half my size, and I was a highly skilled killer. It didn’t add up.
I wasn’t a paranoid