Dark Desire, Lauren Smith [reading well TXT] 📗

be held, kiska. Whatever happened to you, it was bad, perhaps the worst thing a person can endure. I knew only what I could offer you last night would help you. If you let me, I can be a good friend to you.”

“I’m not going to just let you in my bed. We will never have sex. That’s off the table.”

She had to make this man understand. She couldn’t have some casual hookup or fling. Even if she wanted him in that way, it wouldn’t be possible. Her body couldn’t handle being touched like that ever again.

“I am only a friend,” Dimitri said. “You needed someone to help keep you grounded last night. That is all I did, and I do not expect anything from you.” He pointed at her plate. “Now, please eat.”

Still scowling a little, she pulled her plate close and picked up one of the tacos. It tasted like the food of the gods. A moan of pleasure escaped her lips. When she glanced at Dimitri, he was staring at her.

She swallowed audibly. He’d said he would only be a friend . . . but a man who looked like him didn’t live as a monk, and apparently he’d been involved in a three-way with her friends Kenzie and Royce. She made a mental note not to let herself be attracted to him. She couldn’t handle it if he changed his mind and wanted more.

“I thought you might want to shop for clothes,” Dimitri said. “I imagine you had only winter clothes in Moscow?”

“Yeah, I could do with some shopping.” She finished her tacos and put the plate in the dishwasher. He joined her, his hard body warm next to hers as he stood so close. She waited for the inevitable wave of panic, but it didn’t come. He placed a hand on her arm, and she turned to look up at him.

“Would you mind if I go with you? I could use some distraction and activity.”

“I . . .” She had every right to say no, but she didn’t want to. While she might not know him well, she had two friends who could vouch for him, and she wanted to trust them and her own gut, which told her he was safe. “Okay. Could you be ready to leave in ten minutes?”

“Yes.” He put his dishes away. “I’ll drive.”

“Wait, you have a car?”

“A rental. You asked how I got here before you did. Cabs often take a longer route to make their fares higher.”

It made sense; her cab fare had been steep.

“I’ll be back down in a bit.” She raced upstairs and retrieved her purse, plus her new driver’s license. Vadym had burned all the documents in her purse. Her passport had been in her Moscow apartment and left untouched, but everything else had been destroyed. She’d gotten some cash from the embassy, but it would be a few days before her replacement credit and debit cards would arrive. She would have to shop at a thrift store.

Dimitri was waiting for her by the front door. He held up a set of car keys.

“Ready?”

She nodded and put a hand on her purse, which was slung over one shoulder. The moment she got outside, she halted at the sight of the car waiting in front of her.

“Is that . . . ?”

“It is,” Dimitri replied casually. He opened the passenger door of the Aston Martin for her. It was a sleek silver-gray sports car with ice-blue headlights.

“Where did you rent a car like this? You couldn’t have gotten it from the airport.” The sudden implausibility of his story raised more warning bells. Dimitri gunned the engine to life, and the initial rumble softened to a seductive purr.

“You’re right. This is an Aston Martin One-77, worth about 1.4 million. I borrowed it from a friend. He dropped it off for me in short-term parking at the airport. All I had to do was pick it up.”

“So you’re like crazy rich or something, aren’t you?” She relaxed her death grip on her purse a little.

Dimitri chuckled as they backed out of the driveway. “Or something.”

“I’m beginning to think you like being an a mystery man,” she muttered. “Just promise me you aren’t some Russian spy, okay? I really can’t handle that right now.”

Dimitri let out a deep laugh full of genuine delight.

“Kiska, you are too much. No, I am no spy.” He grew a little more serious when he said that. He shifted gears, and the car shot down the street.

She changed the subject. “So, if you can find the nearest thrift store, that would be great.”

He arched a dark brow and shot her a glance. “Thrift store?”

“Yeah, I’m on a budget. I lost all my credit cards and stuff in Moscow.” Elena fiddled with the buckle on her purse strap, too embarrassed to meet his eyes. It was pathetic that she would rather have him assume she was the type of person to lose things than tell him the truth.

“No thrift stores,” Dimitri said.

“But I can’t—”

He lifted up his wallet and waved it. “Please. Consider it a gift from a friend.”

“No, no, thank you. I really can’t.” This time she looked at his face. That was a mistake. There was such a harsh beauty to his features.

“No, you can do this. You will allow me to buy your clothes.” It was in order, not a request. A strange flutter in her belly confused her. It was almost like she was nervous, but her chest wasn’t tight with anxiety.

They parked in front of a store called AllSaints. It was a clothing store she loved, but it was usually out of her price range. She opened her mouth to protest, but one look from Dimitri quelled any further resistance. It was scary how much she responded to his commands, but he was into BDSM, so clearly he got off on bossing people around . . . just like she used to enjoy being bossed around, at least in the bedroom.

Fine, she’d let him have his way, this time. But she wasn’t going