Love Me to Death (Underveil, #1)(41)

“Fat chance on both counts,” she whispered back. His rib cage expanded with a deep breath under her freezing cold hands. The men closing in seemed to be human. Maybe they could help her escape.

One of the men shouted to them in a foreign language. Nikolai got off the snowmobile and answered as he helped Elena off. There was more conversation, which seemed pretty tense, and then one of the men shook Nikolai’s hand. Two others pushed the snowmobile under the trees.

The snow had picked up, and she could barely see the ring of tents circling the fire, which had died down significantly in the last couple of minutes.

“Fate is on our side at last,” he said quietly. “The snow will cover our tracks.”

Her teeth chattered. Nikolai looked her up and down. His gaze stuck at her feet—or where her legs disappeared into the snow. “You wear only socks.”

She nodded.

He said something to one of the men and then picked her up in his arms. She started to struggle to get down, but he clamped his arms tight like vises, reminding her how inhumanly strong he was and how completely human she was—and completely at his mercy, which was not what she wanted at all. She gave another twist, and his grip tightened even more.

“Stick with the plan. Appearances matter right now.”

She stilled. The man struck out, and they followed him to a tattered covered wagon. The man shouted something, and an old woman stuck her head out from the canvas at the back. She cocked her head and stared at Nikolai and Elena, then pulled the flap open and gestured for them to enter.

He lifted her into the back of the cart, which was carpeted with blankets and animal skins, then climbed in. He nodded to the woman, who had backed up to the other side of the space near the small oil lamp hanging from one of the arched ribs holding the canvas in place.

Nikolai wordlessly ripped Elena’s socks and wet pants off. When she opened her mouth to protest, he pinned her with a glare so menacing she snapped her lips closed and yanked a blanket over her legs. In all sincerity, she felt much better out of the wet clothes, but it would have been nice if he hadn’t manhandled her in the process. Part of the show, she assumed.

The woman took the wet clothes and hung the over a line at the front of the wagon, then stared at the cord binding them. She studied Elena’s face, then Nikolai’s, and then she spoke. Her voice was raspy and weak, but Nikolai didn’t seem to have any trouble understanding her. He responded several times and even smiled once.

This freaking cluelessness was driving Elena insane. She had no idea where she was, why she was there, or what they were saying.

He took his sword off and laid it down against the wooden side of the wagon. The woman’s gaze followed it and stayed on the jeweled hilt.

“She’s going to kill you in your sleep for it,” Elena said. “You spoke of lust to me once. That’s it.”

“It’s why I’m not sleeping,” he said, stretching out near his sword. “Please join me.”

“Go to hell.” She adjusted the blanket around her legs, suddenly feeling a little bare without her flannel pajama pants.

His eyes narrowed. “If you do not do as I ask, you are jeopardizing your safety. I made a bargain out there, and if you continue this, they will change their minds. Get over here and lie next to me now so that I can warm you up, or I will come and get you.”

The old woman was watching them intently with her black eyes. There was more going on here than his wanting to conserve warmth.

“What bargain did you make?”

“I asked for their hospitality, and they wanted something in return. They wanted you. I told them we had run away together and that your father searches for us. I told them you belong to me, but that they could have the snowmobile.”

“I don’t belong to you.”

He sat up, and before she could react, he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her into his lap. She gasped and grabbed the blanket, covering her bare half below the parka.

“Well, you’d better make it look like you do unless you want them to ride you rather than the snowmobile.”

Asshole. She slid off his lap, keeping her back to the woman, who watched them with open fascination. Elena used a tone that, if you did not speak the language, sounded like she was flirting with him. “What am I expected to do to make it look like I belong to you?”

“Act like you don’t hate me.”

She rolled her eyes but maintained the sweetness in her voice. “I do hate you.”

“Act like you want me.”

“I don’t.”

He leaned very close. So close his nose touched her ear. “Act like you did when my tongue was inside you.”

She didn’t move as she replaced the unwanted jolt of excitement with anger so deep it limited her breath. It took everything in her to maintain her flirtatious tone rather than the threatening one she wanted to use. “It’s a good thing you’re not going to sleep, because I’d use that sword of yours to cut your tongue out.”

He leaned back and an eyebrow shot up. “You make me hard.”

“You make me sick.”

“I want you so bad, Elena.”

“Only because it serves your purpose.”

His intensity and sincerity startled her. “You have jumped to an erroneous conclusion based on someone else’s words. What you heard does not express my thoughts or feelings. Not at all.”