Page 48 of The Brigadier

Damn him.

Damn the fantasy.

Damn all men. I was finished with the lot of them.

The afternoon passed, turning into time for dinner.

I made something I knew Damien would like, forcing his father to come eat with us. I’d read a book. I’d stayed in my room until Damien had awakened.

We hadn’t looked at each other at all, acting as if we were strangers. Fortunately, Damien continued to jabber on, which took up some of the slack.

I was still finishing cleaning up the kitchen when Nikolay walked back in. He’d insisted on putting Damien to bed himself, which I thought had been a good idea.

I couldn’t turn around and look at him, wiping the counter aimlessly.

“I think you’re right,” he finally said. “He’s not autistic. He just needs creative outlets.”

“I’m glad you think that way,” I told him, placing the sponge back into the holder. I took a deep breath and tried to keep from saying anything. All the things I’d wanted to say to him didn’t seem important any longer.

When I turned around, the way we looked at each other was so filled with electricity I was floored. But he’d made it very clear he only needed me to help his son.

“I’m going to bed.” As I attempted to make a wide berth around him, the prickling I felt was even stronger.

Suddenly, he grabbed my arm, jerking me toward the heat of his body. When he placed his hand on the back of my head, keeping me in place, I was breathless.

“Now, you listen to me. I just…” He couldn’t finish the statement, his breathing labored.

“I know. This shouldn’t be happening,” I whispered, yet the sound was as husky as the night we’d allowed our carnal urges to take control. “We already tempted fate.”

“No, it shouldn’t.”

“We’ll burn in hell.”

“Maybe but I don’t give a damn,” he growled, immediately crushing his mouth over mine.

It would seem fantasies could come true more than once.

I tasted wine and spaghetti sauce, leftover scotch and the man who’d captured my attention and I couldn’t seem to let it go. As he thrust his tongue inside, I tentatively slid my palms up his chest, marveling in the way his muscles felt.

The kiss was powerful, more so than anything I’d ever experienced. We might be both out of our minds, but at that moment, I could tell it didn’t matter in the least.

And I was a happy girl.

Whatever happened, we might be damned and I certainly knew this was nothing but a fantasy, not a game to be played by the faint of heart.

But I didn’t care.

We hungered for each other.

Again.

That was all that mattered.

Even if monsters continued to lurk in the darkness…

CHAPTER 15

Nikolay