Dark Desire, Lauren Smith [reading well TXT] 📗

dug into her eggs and toast, feeling hungry for the first time in a long while, and it made her weirdly relaxed and conversational. It must have been because she had slept and had a good cry. People always made fun of crying, but last night, sobbing until she had exhausted herself had made her feel lighter, as though some of Vadym’s evil had bled out of her through the tears. She wasn’t whole, not by a long shot, but she felt better.

“Not exactly business. There are some interests I need to oversee and protect.”

She found herself lost in Dimitri’s blue eyes. An ocean existed in that gaze, pulling her down beneath the surface, yet she wasn’t drowning.

“And you, kiska? What are you going to do in Los Angeles?”

“I was going to college at Pepperdine, but my school has given me a semester off.” A few days before she left Moscow she’d gotten the news that she’d been granted a pause in her classes to recover from what had happened. Moscow had given her class credit for the completed work and she could finish up her Russian language credits at Pepperdine.

“What will you do with your free time?” Dimitri seemed genuinely interested.

“Probably lie on the beach, see a few museums.” She wanted to do normal things, fun things. She wanted to be a person again. As much as she loved school, she really did need time to regroup. Everything felt overwhelming now, and she was afraid trying to focus on classes would be a bad idea. Vadym had kept her locked up, shamed like an animal in that dark, enclosed space. Every minute of the day, she’d faced the possibility of death and torture. It wasn’t easy to simply revert back to the old Elena who might frolic about in a park or lie on a beach and sunbathe. That Elena no longer existed.

“The beach, that sounds lovely.” Dimitri smiled. “Perhaps I will see you there?”

From any other man it would have sounded like a pickup line, but with him it sounded hopeful, and that tenderness in his eyes seemed to cradle her body with invisible hands.

God, what was wrong with her? She was fixated on this man and how safe he made her feel, like some baby chick who had peeped out of her shell and latched onto the first creature she saw.

“Yeah, if you’re ever near Malibu, maybe I’ll see you.” She laughed it off, trying to shake the sudden bout of nervous excitement at the thought of running into him on a beach.

“Passengers, please prepare for landing,” one of the cabin crew announced.

Elena put up her tray table and kept silent as the plane began to descend. Her hand touched the edge of Dimitri’s palm on the armrest. His skin was soft, and something seemed to jump from his skin to hers. She couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like if he really touched her, put those hands on her body . . .

What was she thinking? She didn’t want that. She didn’t want to be touched ever again. Her stomach flipped as she felt his gaze on her. He didn’t say anything, however, and after a moment, he turned his focus to stowing his briefcase below his seat.

All too soon, they were disembarking. She and Dimitri stayed close as they left the plane and headed for customs. Their paths diverged at the point where US citizens were led in one direction, while non–US citizens went the other. The thought of suddenly never seeing this man again sent a flash of panic through her.

“Dimitri,” she called out as he started to walk away.

He paused and looked over his shoulder. His square jaw and high cheekbones made him look like a movie star from an old black-and-white film. He had a timeless appeal that left her near speechless every time she looked right at him.

“Thank you,” she said again, but her heart wanted to say so much more than that. A storm of emotions flashed across his features before that tranquility returned.

“I am always happy to help you, kiska.” He turned and walked away.

Elena carried her backpack and got in the line for US citizens. When she got up to the front of her line, a female customs officer waved her forward, and she presented her passport. The officer scanned it and frowned.

“You were in Russia for several months. Is that correct?”

“Yes. I went there for a study abroad semester, but . . .”

The officer waited for her to continue. Lord, she was going to tell this woman what had happened. If only she’d just kept her answer limited to school and hadn’t said ‘but’.

“I am . . . was kidnapped at a bar and held captive for two months.”

The officer’s lips parted, and her eyes widened. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Elena reassured the other woman. “I’m free now, and I’m here.”

“That you are. Welcome home.” The custom’s officer handed her back her passport, and she was waved through.

Elena cringed as she realized that she would have to explain her situation like this again and again. It was unavoidable. And everyone was going to react just like that, and she was going to hate it. At this point, Elena considered just living on the beach and avoiding everyone like a hermit.

After she picked up her luggage, she called for a taxi to take her to where she would stay for the next few months. She’d lost her spot in the Pepperdine dorms a long time ago, but Royce Devereaux, the professor who had helped save her, apparently owned a Malibu beach house. He’d insisted that she stay there for the rest of the semester until housing opened back up at the university. She called her parents while she sat in traffic. She’d spoken to them nearly a hundred times since she’d reached the embassy in Ulaanbaatar, but this was, in a way, the most important call she would make because now she was on US soil.

“Honey!” Her mother’s relieved voice came through