Mediterranean Mavericks: Greeks. Кейт Хьюит
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      “Christos, she’s not going to…” The horror of the night when Stavros’s sister had died cut him off.

      But then, none of them had known Calista had been on such a self-destructive path until it had been years too late. Pain pounded through his veins at the thought of Jasmine going down that path. Look at the situation she had found herself in. “She’s not going to calmly accept whatever I propose.”

      “I know you hate responsibility of any kind, Dmitri, but this is—”

      “Theos, Stavros, she does not belong with me. Not for a moment, much less for days.”

      Stavros looked at him again, something emerging in his gaze. As if he could sense the panic in Dmitri’s words. As if he could see the noose tightening around Dmitri’s throat. “Then, you should have never answered her call for help.

      “What about her is bothering you so much, Dmitri? I have never seen you in such a…state when it comes to a woman. You change them on a weekly basis. Why is she different?”

      Dmitri pushed a hand through his hair, feeling as though his life was slipping out of his hands. How he wished he could fob her off on Stavros…

      “You don’t want to be responsible for her and yet your conscience won’t let her walk away. How about you do not anger her, then?”

      “Where was this infinite wisdom when it was Leah we were dealing with?” he couldn’t help pointing out.

      “Learn from my lesson, then, won’t you?” Stavros growled, steel edging into his tone. As it always did when even the mention of how close he had come to losing Leah came up. “If you hurt her again, the damage she does to you might not be so minimal. Or even worse, she could just turn around and go back to that same world.”

      “Her feelings are not my concern.” That was it. Jasmine could rant and rage at him all she wanted. All he cared about was that the woman was alive. If he had to shred her to pieces to do it, he would, again and again. But he wouldn’t let her return to that life.

      He had failed so many people in his life, but he couldn’t fail Jasmine.

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      Jasmine stepped into the elegantly decorated bedroom and flopped onto the bed. The robe she had put on slid silkily against her skin but she just couldn’t get herself to wear the same jeans and sweater again. Not until she got them washed, at least.

      Only silence came from the front lounge. Her heart thudding loudly, she looked up.

      Dmitri prowled into the room and leaned against the wall, the movement pulling one lapel of his unbuttoned shirt higher, exposing a rope of leanly sculpted muscle. A gauze pad near his abdomen stood out white against his olive skin.

      One of his brows lifted, a sardonic smile twisting his mouth.

      Sinuous heat bloomed low in her belly, the sight of his naked torso a temptation like she had never imagined.

      The luxurious black satin scrunched in her fingers painted a picture of her writhing beneath that leanly coiled frame, all of that simmering intensity unleashed on her, while he worshipped her with the mouth that had pierced her so much…

      “Jasmine?”

      His frown prompted her out of her fantasies, her skin heating up.

      She was used to attention of the most extreme kind, knew lust in all its forms. And yet, when Dmitri looked at her, even innocently as he was doing now, as if he could see into her head and soul, she was extremely aware of it.

      Of all the men in the world, something inside her reacted with a violent energy to Dmitri. Maybe it was because she had known him as a kid. Maybe because, for the first time in years, she was with a man and she didn’t have to worry about whether he was motivated by lust or some other inferior motive.

      That was it.

      Dmitri, for all his crushing words, was safe.

      For years, she had wondered if the life she had adapted to to survive had somehow corrupted her ability to feel this kind of need, if her body would ever feel like it was anything but an instrument she had honed to make a living…if she would feel free enough…wondered if there was anything pure left in her thoughts except for the technicality of it…

      Yet that it was Dmitri that incited her like this… It left her shaking to her very bones.

      Didn’t her body know that she was supposed to hate him even if he looked like a Greek god? That he was a man who turned his back on friends because they didn’t fit into his new life?

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      She was like a deer planning her escape route, Dmitri decided, leaning against the door. Not that he didn’t think it was for the best.

      The moment he saw her on the bed, his bed, in his robe, even if it fell to her ankles, his blood had vanished south.

      She had looked so lovely for a second there, claws withdrawn. Like a lioness who wanted to be petted for a little while. Before she most likely ate you.

      “You look as if you have a fever.”

      She nodded. “I don’t feel… I’m just achy all over.”

      Her words emerged as a rough croak. The soft admission from her was as strange as the feverish look in those dark black eyes. Scrubbed of sleep and any lingering softness that he had ruthlessly pushed away, they glowed with determination. And regret punched him in the gut even as he knew that it was better this way.

      He didn’t want her all soft and melting. He wanted her to fight him and hate him.

      Had she been hurt in their tussle? he thought then, the very idea horrifying him. Frowning, he took a step forward and clasped her cheek.

      She flinched away from him. A silent roar burst into life inside of him, and he forced himself to take multiple breaths.

      Theos, he hated when she flinched at his nearness like that…

      Which was a thousand kinds of insanity because he had practically yelled at her to not come near him.

      Stavros had taught him well. It took all of his willpower to control that wild thing inside him that wanted her hands on him. All of her on him. Reminded himself that all he offered a woman was sex. And Jasmine deserved a lot more.

      Clenching his jaw, he fought for composure. “Did I hurt you when I tackled you?”

      “No. I just… I pulled a muscle the other day and it’s still bothering me.”

      “Let me see it.”

      “No.” Jasmine drew in a deep breath and forced the words to come out evenly. “Thanks for coming so promptly today, Dmitri. For literally coming to my rescue.”

      “You almost choked on that, ne?”

      She СКАЧАТЬ