It’s strange how much I enjoy taking care of her like this. How the simple act of washing her hair both soothes me and turns me on. At moments like these, it’s easier to forget the violence within me, to quell the cravings I can’t give in to for months to come.
“What difference does it make whether Lucas is the one to mete out punishment, or if it’s the Russians?” I ask when I’m done lathering her hair. Nora’s not saying anything, but I know she’s still thinking about the interpreter, obsessing about her fate. “The outcome would be the same. You know that, my pet, right?”
She nods silently, then tilts her head back to rinse off the shampoo.
“So why are you dwelling on it?” I reach for the hair conditioner as she wipes the water off her face and opens her eyes to look at me. “Do you want her to walk free?”
“I should.” She stares at me as I begin working the conditioner into her hair. “I shouldn’t want her to suffer like this.”
My lips curl with savage amusement. “But you do, don’t you? You want revenge just as much as I do.” Her agitation makes sense to me now. As with the man she killed, Nora’s middle-class sensibilities are clashing with her instincts. She knows what society dictates she should feel, and it bothers her that the actual emotions she’s experiencing are quite different.
It’s not human nature to turn the other cheek, and my pet is starting to realize that.
Nora closes her eyes again and moves her head under the spray. The water cascades down her face, turning her lashes into long, dark spikes. “I wanted to die when I thought you were dead,” she says, her voice barely audible through the running water. “It was even worse than when I lost you that first time. When I saw the girl, I figured she did something to harm your business, but I didn’t realize she’d caused the crash.”
I picture how Nora must’ve felt that day, and an acute ache spreads through my chest. I’d go insane if I ever thought I’d lost her. “Baby . . .” Stepping closer, I use my back to shield her from the spray and cup her face in my palms, staring down at her. “It’s over. That episode in our lives is over, okay? It’s in the past.”
She doesn’t reply, so I bend my head and take her mouth in a deep, slow kiss, comforting her the only way I know how.
Chapter 14
Nora
I’m losing myself. Slowly and surely, I’m being drawn into Julian’s dark orbit, sucked in by the twisted morass that is this estate.
I’ve known this for a while, of course. I’ve been observing my own transformation with a kind of distant horror and curiosity. Things that once seemed abhorrent to me are now part of my everyday life. Murder, torture, illegal arms dealing—intellectually, I still condemn it all, but it no longer bothers me as it once did. My moral compass has been gradually tilting off-course, and I’ve been letting it happen.
I’ve been letting Julian’s world change me without so much as putting up a fight.
Even before I knew what the blond girl had done, her plight didn’t affect me on any kind of deep emotional level. Like Rosa, I had been morbidly curious rather than appalled. And now that I know she’s the interpreter who nearly killed Julian, the hatred surging through my veins leaves little room for pity. I understand that it’s wrong to let Lucas punish her in this manner, but I don’t feel the wrongness of it.
I want her to suffer, to pay for the agony she put us through.
The fact that I can think at all right now, much less analyze my disconcerting emotions, is bizarre. I’m in the shower, and Julian is kissing me, drugging my senses with his touch. His hands are cradling my face, and my body is responding to him as always, the warm water sluicing over my skin adding to the burning heat within me. My thoughts, however, are cold and clear. There’s only one solution I can see, only one way I can attempt to salvage what remains of my soul.
I have to get away.
Not permanently. Not forever. But I have to leave, even if it’s just for a couple of weeks. I need to regain my sense of perspective, re-immerse myself in the world outside our compound.
If not for my own sake, then for the tiny life I’m carrying.
“Julian . . .” My voice shakes when he finally releases my lips and slides one hand down my back, making my sex pulse with need. “Julian, I want to go home.”
He stops abruptly and lifts his head, still holding me against him. His gaze hardens, the heat of desire morphing into something cold and menacing. “You are home.”
“I want to see my parents,” I insist, my heart beating rapidly in my chest. With Julian’s powerful body surrounding me and the steam from the shower fogging up the stall, I feel like I’m trapped in a bubble of naked flesh and lust. My body clamors for his touch, but my mind screams that I can’t give in. Not with so much at stake.
A muscle starts ticking in his jaw. “I told you I’ll take you at some point. But not now. Not in your condition.”
“Then when?” I force myself to hold his gaze. “When I have an infant to care for? Or a toddler? How about when the child is full-grown? Do you think it’ll be safe for me to go then?”
Julian’s lips thin into a hard, dangerous line. Backing me up against the shower wall, he grasps my wrists and pins them above my head. “Don’t push me, my pet,” he murmurs, his erection pressing into my stomach. “You won’t like the consequences.”
Despite my determination, a tendril of fear coils in my chest. I know Julian won’t hurt me right now, but physical punishment is not the only weapon in my husband’s arsenal. Images of Jake’s brutal beating flash through my mind, bringing with them a sickening chill.