The Last Dance (6 page)

“To be fair, you drugged yourself in the process of trying to drug me. And I am fairly certain you planned on fucking me anyway, so there is no moral high ground to be taken in this situation.”

He did not deny having sex with her when she was unconscious. That was her question answered.

Roman stopped rubbing her knee. She groaned involuntarily at the absence of his hands. “You want me to keep going.” His ice-blue eyes focused intently on her. “Ask me and I will. I won’t even make you beg. Just say please.” His lips caressed each syllable when he spoke. His mouth was far too sensual. It made it hard to concentrate on what he was saying.

Georgina blinked to dislodge the image of his lips on her. Was it a memory or a fantasy? Both? “No.” Georgina closed her eyes to keep them from roaming over his scarred face and then lower. “No. I will ask you for nothing other than my freedom.”

“You will do more than ask me. You will beg.” There was a smile in his voice. Her eyes were closed, but she could hear it in the deep timbre.

“Never,” she said with more conviction than she felt.

Roman’s rough hands were on her leg again, gently rubbing, kneading. The pain eased again as his strong fingers worked. She swallowed. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop, she prayed. Being pain free was the most incredible feeling in the world. If people only knew, they would never take it for granted. She let go of the breath she was holding.

Too soon Roman’s hands stopped, and the throbbing started again, taking hold stronger than before because now her body remembered what it felt like to be pain free. Searing hot bolts ripped through her leg, making it hard to breathe. She swore internally. He would only keep going if she asked, and that would never happen. She would rather be in pain than be dependent on that man for anything.

She needed to keep him talking if she had any hope of staying alive. She searched her mind for things to say. Something…anything. “Did you at least use a condom last night?” Georgina demanded. She needed to know one way or the other so she could deal with it.

Roman stood up and went to the bedside table. When he walked the muscles in his ass tensed, the definition becoming even more pronounced. He was perfectly formed. The humble
David
statue had nothing on him. She told herself to look away, but she couldn’t. Her body would not comply with the silent commands. He emptied her purse and made a show of counting her condoms. “Six. Nope it does not appear as if any condoms were used last night. You were quite ambitious thinking we would manage six times. Of course I’m up for the challenge. Perhaps next time we shall try to set a record. What’s your personal best?”

Georgina shook her head and swore. She always used condoms. Always. “Fantastic. God only knows what you could have given me. I have seen the women you sleep with.”

Roman laughed bitterly. “You are the one who is paid to fuck strange men. And you’re worried about me giving you something. So you’re not just a liar, you’re a fantasist.”

“I’m not paid—” She started to speak but cut herself off. Explaining would mean sharing her truths, and he did not deserve them. Roman could think whatever he wanted of her.

“You’re not paid?” Roman immediately jumped on her admission. “So you fuck strange men and bug their homes out of some sort of loyalty to the American government. That’s taking patriotism a bit far. I would hope you are at least reimbursed for the wear and tear on your pussy. Perhaps your next stop should be a clinic.”

Anger clawed at her like a feral cat. “I have always used condoms except last night. I never put myself in danger like that.”

“Look around, angel. This is danger,” he said smugly.

“You know what I am talking about. I am talking about you fucking me without a condom. We both know that it only happened because I was unconscious and could not even give consent.”

“Let’s get this straight. Were you planning on fucking me after you drugged me? Or was the getting naked and stroking my cock just for show? And the condoms in your purse, what were those for? Liar, fantasist, and a hypocrite. You have very few admirable qualities.”

Georgina looked away. He was right. She had been intending to do the same thing she was accusing him of. She would have fucked him after he was drugged. The only consent she would have asked for was a hard cock. She was no better than him on that score, but she would die before she admitted that. She looked at him again. “Use whatever integrity you have left and answer me honestly. Do I need to worry about STDs?”

Roman did not hesitate. “Not from me. I have no idea about the other men you are fucking, but you will not get anything from me. No need to worry about diseases with me though you should worry about me getting you pregnant. You would not want to return to America with a full belly.”

“That is not likely,” she interrupted. Her periods were irregular at best. She suspected her body fat was too low to conceive. Though she had never discussed it with her doctor, she suspected her career had left her barren. It was fine; she’d never planned on a husband or family anyway, but she was not about to explain that to Roman. The important thing was there was no lasting harm from last night’s ill-fated endeavors, other than being shackled to an oligarch’s bed naked and in fear of her life.

Georgina looked out the window at the black sky. The curtains had not been drawn.
Keep him talking.
“What time is it?”

“Eight o’clock.”

She had slept the entire night. No wonder her leg was sore. She had slept through her middle-of-the-night dose of painkillers. She tried to reach down and rub her knee, but the handcuffs prevented her. She swore again.

Roman disappeared to the bathroom, returning minutes later with a glass of water and two small white tablets. “I won’t even make you beg.”

Georgina opened her mouth and allowed him to place the tablets on her tongue, and then she washed them back with the water he held to her lips. She didn’t care what they were. She just needed her knee to stop throbbing. Pain could drive a person mad, and she was getting perilously close to that point.

“I can’t tell if you’re brave or stupid.” Roman remarked.

“I’m in pain. That trumps both of those. What did you give me?” If it was something that was going to kill her, she just hoped it did the job quickly.

“Aspirin.”

Georgina nodded. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Roman stared at her intently. “Tell me who sent you, and I will let you go. You have my word.”

“The word of a known criminal.”

“Suspected criminal,” Roman corrected. “Never been charged and certainly never convicted.”

Georgina was in an impossible position. If she told Roman the name of her handler, there was no reason to keep her alive. That was her only bargaining chip. It was weak, but it was all she had. “I’m not going to say anything.” She was all too aware that Pavel would ruin her if she ratted him out, or worse. “So kill me or let me go.”

“Beg.”

Georgina’s eyes narrowed. “Never.”

Roman’s smile broadened. He was enjoying this. He was sadistic. “I was hoping you would say that.” He left the room.

Georgina blinked. She was alone naked in his bed.
Fuck
. What had her life become? She pulled fruitlessly on the handcuffs. A scream formed in her throat, but she pushed it down. She would not give Roman the satisfaction. And if she started screaming she might never stop. Her mind raced, taking her to darker and darker places. No. No, she would not give in. She filled her lungs to capacity and held the breath until it burned. The pain in her chest helped her forget about the excruciating pain in her knee. She concentrated on tracing the intricate pattern on the cornicing. No matter how long Roman kept her here, she would not lose control and she would not beg.

The aspirin began to work, and the pain eased to a dull ache, a manageable level: her baseline. She was going to miss rehearsal; there was nothing she could do about it. She would not miss tonight’s performance. She would be out of here before then.

Lying here and doing nothing was a torture of its own. Her body was always in motion unless she was sleeping, and even then she thrashed because her knee did not allow a deep enough sleep to render her dead to the world.

The sun crept over the horizon, lighting the morning. Eventually Georgina would need the toilet. At the moment she was fine because dehydration was on her side. Would he make her beg to use the toilet? Would she? No, she would lay in her own filth first.

Georgina looked up when the door creaked open. Roman was fully clothed now in black suit trousers and a blue button-down shirt. The shine of polished silver cufflinks caught her eye.

His hair was wet; he’d had a shower. That was nice for him. Georgina would have rolled her eyes if the small movement would not have hurt her head.

In Roman’s left hand was a steaming cup of coffee; below his chin a bottle of vodka was wedged against his chest, holding it in place so he could open the door. He placed them both on the bedside table. “Ready to beg, angel?”

“I like coffee but not enough to beg.”

“The coffee is a gift. No begging required.” Roman held the cup to her lips. It was strong and black, just the way she liked it. Internally she sighed as the coffee warmed her. Roman took a sip from the cup before setting it down on the table. It felt bizarrely intimate sharing a cup of coffee with him even though she had shared a bed and her body only hours before. That was different. She didn’t remember those things. It was almost like they had not happened. Even more bizarrely, she was chagrined that she did not remember the encounter. Whatever had happened, she wanted to know.

Roman held up the bottle of vodka. “Are you ready to beg?”

Georgina closed her eyes rather than answer.

Roman sat down on the bed. His hands wrapped around her knee, skillfully working their magic until all remnants of pain disappeared. “You realize these tattoos are reserved for Russian criminals. They are earned in prison. Have you been to prison, angel?”

Roman was talking about the small Russian star tattoos she had above both knees. They were in white ink and impossible to see when she was on stage, even without tights on. Nobody knew they were there. They were for her, a reminder. “I like the meaning,” she admitted, hoping the disclosure would be enough to keep him rubbing her leg.

“What do you think they mean?” Roman asked.

Georgina opened her eyes to stare at him. She had no doubt he knew exactly what they meant. He was asking what they meant to her. She hesitated only a fraction of a second. “They mean I bow before no one. But you know that. You’re a criminal. I have them to remind me. I bow before no one either.”

“And yet you are here. I doubt it is of your own accord. So you bowed to someone.”

Georgina nodded. “They are meant in a more literal way. I will get on my knees for no man. I won’t suck anyone’s dick. That is what they mean.” This conversation could be embarrassing with someone else, but they were beyond that. They both know that she did things she would not choose. “I will kiss who I need to kiss. And I will fuck who I need to fuck. But I will not do that. Ever.”

Roman’s hands were like heaven. All the pain was gone. The only sensation was the scrape of his callused skin on her tender flesh. She would keep talking, answering anything, exposing every bit of herself if he kept going. “You hate giving oral sex that much?”

“No I don’t hate it.” She paused for a second, wondering if she should tell him. In the end she realized it didn’t matter. She could tell him anything because she didn’t care what he thought of her and she would probably be dead soon. It was liberating. “I used to like it. Loved it actually. It is very erotic to know you can give that much pleasure. I loved the moment where there was no holding back, that abandon. But I will never do it again. I am done with that. So the tattoos remind me that I have kept something of myself held back. Nobody has all of me, just the parts I give them.”

Roman nodded. “How did you get involved in this?”

Georgina shook her head. She would not answer even if it met him stopping or her life ending.

“How many have there been? Men I mean.”

“Less than the amount of women you’ve had, no doubt.”

“That is not an answer. You kiss like you have been doing this for a long time. You fake passion very well.”

She was not sure if that was a compliment or an insult. She would never tell him that she had not faked anything with him. The decision to take him to bed was straight-up desire, not fear, not curiosity, just a desire for him to be buried deep inside her because she knew it would feel good and she wanted to feel good, to enjoy fucking again.

Roman opened the vodka and poured a drop on her ankle. “But on the other hand, the drug in the drink was very amateur. You had no way of knowing what would be enough or too much.” Roman lowered his head and licked the drop off her ankle. His tongue was hot on her skin. Tendrils of molten of pleasure spindled up her thighs.

Georgina sucked in a sharp breath. Oh God, that was what his mouth felt like on her skin. So good. She had wondered and now she knew. So good.

Roman poured another drop on her other ankle. “Do you wish me to stop?” he asked. When she did not answer he lowered his head and licked her, tracing a path up her leg, pushing it up a little and settling in the hollow behind her knee.

Roman dripped vodka on her knees. “Are you going to beg, angel?”

Georgina took in a ragged breath. “Never.” No matter what he did she would not beg.

His smile broadened. “We shall see.” His tongue traced the contour of her knee. Molten pleasure shot through her, settling in her core. Her clit was swollen, anticipating his touch. Her breath came in shallow pants. The slightest touch and she would dissolve. It had been too long since she’d been with someone she desired. Nerve endings woke with every caress.

Roman dripped vodka in her navel. His gaze held hers for a moment, in a silent challenge, daring her to say something. But she remained silent. Slowly he lowered his fair head and sucked the liquor off of her flat belly. Georgina bit back the moan that formed deep in her core.