The Healing Touch - Apryl Baker Page 0,44

Just tell me what you need.”

“Inhaler,” she gasped. “My purse.”

He brought it to her, and she took two long, deep pulls from it, the medicine helping her brain to understand her lungs needed air. Dimitri stood there, rubbing her back and speaking in Russian. She didn’t understand a word of it, but it helped to calm her.

“Better?” he asked once she could breathe.

She nodded and sat on the overly plushy chair. “I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for.” He sank down on his knees in front of her. “What happened? You told me only crowds bring that on, but we were talking about…”

“It was the crowds,” she interrupted him. “I’ve been rushing around trying to get all this together without having thought about actually going over there. I guess it hit me all at once when I told you we needed to leave.”

“You never were a good liar, Rebecca Joyce.”

“Let me have my lie right now, okay?” She closed her eyes against the questions in his. “Please, Dimitri?”

His hands cupped her face, and he leaned in, his breath brushing against her very hot skin. “You can have your lie for right now, Krasivaya, but not for much longer. We need to talk, but you’re right. We have to go set up.”

When his lips ghosted over hers, it caused her eyes to spring open. He grinned and tweaked her nose. “Now, get your ass up, and let’s go get this done.”

She watched him call the front desk and ask for someone to bring a luggage cart to their room and to have the Jeep brought around. He seemed more sure of himself than he had when he came in. It was a subtle change, but one she noticed. He was up to something. She just hoped it didn’t involve ignoring her unspoken pleas to not break her heart.

At least he’d given her a reprieve. She didn’t want to face that conversation. It caused her physical pain. She went into the bathroom and splashed cold water on her face, trying to erase the signs she’d been a blubbering fool earlier. Her face looked haunted and her eyes bruised. It was a good thing she’d brought that makeup along.

Diving back into the bedroom, she found the makeup kit in her overnight bag. She made quick work of it, and by the time she was done, you’d never know she’d been a splotchy mess. She looked damn good. Becca knew she wasn’t ugly, maybe not beautiful, but she could turn a head or two. Especially with makeup as her weapon. Tonight, it would help to shield the unsure girl and give her a mask to hide behind.

No point in changing her clothes, though. She’d be filthy later.

“Shit.”

She looked up at Dimitri’s shocked utterance. His eyes were wide, the lust all bright and shiny. At least she affected him. There was that much to salvage her ego.

“What?” She cocked one hip. “Never seen a girl wear makeup?”

“Fuck, I don’t know if I want to take you over there with all those damn models or not.” His expression turned possessive, and he cracked his knuckles. “Fuckers better fuck off.”

“I’m Facebook friends with most of those models. Trust me, I’ll be the last thing on their minds.” She moved around him to answer the door and let in the guy who came to collect the boxes. She moved as far against the wall as she could when he passed. Her nerves were raw, and anyone she didn’t know could set off another attack. It wouldn’t take much.

“Trust me, sweetheart, you’re going to be the one thing they all see.” Dimitri stalked over to her, completely ignoring the teenager loading boxes, and placed his hands on either side of her head, trapping her against the wall. “But you don’t belong to any of them. Got that?”

Becca nodded, unsure what the hell he was playing at.

“Good girl.” He leaned in and kissed her hard, his mouth reinforcing his earlier statement. When he moved away, the bellboy cleared his throat.

“Uh…Mr. Kincaid, sir…”

“My Jeep is being brought around,” Dimitri said, but his eyes never left Becca. “Load it up, and we’ll be down shortly.”

“Of course, but you need to move so I can get this out the door, sir.”

The look Dimitri shot him could have curdled milk, but he moved, allowing Becca to do so as well. She gladly put distance between them, not understanding what game Dimitri was playing. He knew how she felt; she knew how he felt. There was