catch my breath. Albert’s gaze met mine in the rearview mirror, a spark of concern in his cold eyes. I inhaled and glanced outside. If what Kostya said was true, Ronan could have treated me like a useless whore a moment ago. I didn’t know if I had the strength to stop him even with Albert present. But he didn’t. He stopped and fixed my dress before things went too far. After a silent and strained car ride, Ronan walked me up to my room. When we reached my door, I turned to him—breathless, waiting. His gaze settled like a heavy weight on my skin, heating me from the inside out. Transparency filled the gap between my white faux fur and his pressed black Armani suit. Longing, soft breaths, and cartoon hearts. “Thank you . . . for lunch.” His eyes lowered to my mouth, and I exhaled when his thumb skimmed across my bottom lip. “Klubnika.” Strawberries? My lip gloss. I tasted like strawberries. His thumb pulled my bottom lip down slightly before it left me, the rough glide sending heat flaring inside. My gentle gaze met his, and, with a feeling of conviction, I knew I would let him do anything he wanted to me if he only came into my room. I might as well have said that aloud because the sentiment blazed in the hall in a volatile wave. Something lazy and hot flickered in his eyes, and then he took the key from my hand and unlocked the door. “Do svidaniya, kotyonok.” He slipped the key into my coat pocket, and I watched his dark silhouette walk away. OceanofPDE. com