Russian Mobster’s Blackmailed Bride Read Online Free PDF Page A

her close. The feel of her curves against his body was exquisite. He nearly groaned aloud at the pleasurable sensations that whipped through his senses. Before she had time to process what was happening or push him away, Anatoly put his lips on hers and took her mouth in a deep kiss of total domination.
     
    HE WAS KISSING her, and Trisha didn’t even have the wherewithal to stop him. What the hell was the matter with her? But he tasted so good! How could he taste so good? She twined her arms around his neck and touched the silkiness of his hair with her fingertips.
    Anatoly’s lips were beyond soft. She sighed, giving a tiny moan. He took advantage of her muddled state. Slipping his tongue into her mouth, he rubbed it alongside hers. Trisha was shocked to feel a spurt of moisture between her legs. In fact, she was positively melting below her belly button. Everything down there was in flames. She squirmed a little, the movement pressing her breasts even more firmly against his chest. He held her closer, and her nipples beaded into hard points.
    The friction was to die for. The fabric of her satin bra, of her dress, and his shirt against her sensitized breasts made her almost mad with desire. She felt his hands slide down to cup her ass. He gave her a little squeeze, and she moaned once again. Her body was responding to him in ways she had never experienced with anyone else. Her list of lovers wasn’t long, but she’d never been with anyone like Anatoly Zaretsky.
    The thought was like a cold bucket of water thrown in her face. What was she doing ?
    Wrenching away from Anatoly, she took a step back and tried to find her perspective. Or maybe she was looking for her good sense, because that seemed to have completely gone by the wayside.
    “What’s wrong?” His voice was so soft, coaxing almost.
    She slammed the door on her desire and forced herself to take a mental step back. “This is wrong.”
    “How so?”
    He looked so damn handsome. His lips were full, his hair mussed from her fingers, and his eyes bright with lust. She could see the passion in him. Maybe that was the problem? She’d never seen anything like it with any other man. How could someone so cold and calculating also be so in touch with—well, with this ? The desire was rolling off him in waves. She felt wanted for the first time in forever.
    “I’m going back to my room,” she muttered.
    Turning on her heel, she marched to the sliding glass door and flung it open. Inside. Down the hall. The beefcakes were still standing in front of her doorway. She didn’t suppress the urge to flip them off this time. She gave each guy the finger, completely nonplussed when the only response she got was to see the corner of each of their mouths turn up with amusement.
    Into her room she went, and she slammed the door closed on the whole night. She would go to bed, and in the morning she would remember that Anatoly Zaretsky was her enemy. No matter what her body seemed inclined to think.
     
    ANATOLY FELT DISAPPOINTMENT mingle with satisfaction until he was smiling to himself out on the terrace. He had gotten beneath her skin, all right. In fact, he knew more about Trisha than she seemed to know about herself. The woman was passion incarnate. The first time he had seen her in the casino that night, he had known she would be a temptress in bed for the man who was willing to take his time getting her there. That just left him with the necessity of playing the game until he convinced her to give in to what she really wanted anyway.
    “Sir?” Yakov’s voice drew Anatoly from his reverie.
    Turning, he raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”
    “The chief of police is here to see you as you requested.”
    “Thank you. Show him out.”
    “Out here?” Yakov raised a brow.
    This was the second time the man had seemed to question a slight deviation from the normal routine. Was Anatoly really that predictable? If so, he was going to have to work on that a bit.
    “Yes,” Anatoly