the keys she’d taken from her room. Once open, she stepped back to allow him through first. The room was immaculate, as if it had just been deep-cleaned. If Annalise had done this, she’d done it as a labor of love. No one kept empty rooms so pristine.
He looked around. There was very little furniture and nothing personal whatsoever. “Did Annalise find anything at all that he specifically left for your father or you?”
She started to shake her head and then frowned. “He had a journal and there were entries for my father. The journal should be in my father’s desk in the den.”
“Did you read it?”
“My father showed me a few entries, just because they were loving and sweet. Mostly about my grandmother and me. The rest, he kept to himself. But, Mitya, if there was anything about a package my grandfather had failed to deliver to the Anwar family, my father would have told me when I asked.”
“Maybe, Ania. And maybe, like your grandfather, he wanted to keep you safe.”
“I don’t think I’m very safe, Mitya. If that was his purpose in not telling me, he didn’t do a very good job of it.”
She didn’t sound bitter, although her words could have been taken that way. She sounded sad. He slung his arm around her neck and walked her out of her grandparents’ apartment. It was cold and felt empty. Ania needed to feel warm and carefree. He had to give that to her. More than anything, Mitya wanted to make her happy.
As she led the way to the den, her body slid subtly along his. He felt every curve. Deep inside, his leopard raked him, every bit as aware of the pheromones she was throwing off as he was. Ania seemed to slide against every wall down the long hallway, so that her alluring fragrance filled the entire area, from floor to ceiling, so he breathed her in with every step he took.
Mitya felt a little as if he was going out of his mind. In his ears there was a roaring thunder. He felt edgy. Tense. There was a part of him that was there, taking care of business. Most of him was all about desire. Lust. Hunger. That kind of hunger cut through his soul, leaving him jagged and feeling like a jackhammer was ripping through his head.
It took tremendous discipline to stay on task. To keep his mind on the reason he was there in that house. She moved out from under his shoulder, which should have given him some relief, but then he was looking at her body as she moved so seductively through the den to the other side of the room.
Her father’s desk was an old-fashioned rolltop, which surprised him. He would have thought Antosha would have had a much more modern glass one. Ania ran her hand over the wood and then pulled out another key. She unlocked the top drawer, reached in and hit something he couldn’t see. Immediately a little hidden drawer sprang open from one of the two curved wooden pieces that formed the legs.
Mitya was more interested in the way she bent down to open the drawer, giving him flashes of her bottom. He really wanted to take a bite out of her. Instead, he waited while she crouched down, her legs slightly apart, just enough that he could see the honey glistening on the tight curls covering her mound.
He curved his palm over the hard length of his cock. She looked up and smiled at him. She knew exactly what she was doing to him. He wanted to catch all that wild hair in his hand and shove his cock down her throat. Sevastyan and the others were too close. He nearly groaned aloud as she shifted her legs, supposedly to get closer to the small secret drawer. He could barely breathe, but somehow her scent found its way into his lungs.
He wanted to roar. He wanted to lift her up and slam her down on that desktop. Take her right there. He could taste her in his mouth. Hot desire. Pure lust. It rushed over him like a tidal wave of madness.
Ania pulled out the journal and held it up. He took it with a cursory glance and then shoved it in his pocket.
She deliberately ran her tongue around her lips, wetting them. Looking up at him. His cock felt like a dagger. Diamond hard. Titanium. Her hand slipped to the front of his