Page 28 of His Forbidden Obsession

Fuck. He was pale, and his skin was cool to the touch. Was he sick as well as injured? I scooped him up and carried him to the guest room, laying him carefully on the bed. “Nikolai? Nikolai, wake up. Talk to me.”

He blinked and slowly opened his eyes. “What happened?”

“If you mean just now, you fainted. Otherwise, I don’t know. Did your father do this to you?” He bit his lip and looked away. “Nikolai?”

“Yes.”

“Does he know about what happened the other night?”

He gave the slightest nod.

Fuck. “Don’t move. I’m going to get something to make you feel better.”

I stepped into the bathroom, wet a washcloth, and laid it across his forehead.

“Lay there and rest. I’m going to get you some water and something to eat, and you’ll have to tell me everything.”

I had to stop in the kitchen doorway to push down the panic that was threatening to overwhelm me. How the hell was this happening? I couldn’t believe Nikolai was here. In my house. Maybe I was still asleep. I’d had so many dreams about him, some pleasurable and some horrific.

How had he known where to come? What if this was a trap? I had my gun with me. I’d grabbed it as soon as I’d heard the doorbell, even before I’d seen who it was.

I should call Remington, but I wasn’t going to until I talked to Niko and figured out how he’d gotten here and what had happened. How had his father found out, and how could I get to the man and torment him until he begged for death? I wasn’t going to let him live, no matter what Remington said.

I quickly made a peanut butter sandwich and pulled a bottle of water from the fridge. When I got back to the guest room, he was so still I was afraid he’d lost consciousness again. I paused in the doorway and watched his chest moving up and down. He was alive, and I would make sure he got better.

I had to grip the doorway to steady myself as an image of him bleeding out on the floor of his room came to my mind. What if… what if his father had killed him? It would have been my fault. How the hell would I have lived with that?

He’s fine. He’s here now.

He was, and I would protect him. When we were done destroying his family, I would see that he got somewhere safe and had a chance to live the life he deserved. But that meant I couldn’t touch him again. As much as I wanted him to be mine, he wasn’t for me. He deserved so much more than the life of constant danger I had to offer, even if Remington would permit one of his men to marry a Koslov.

“How are you feeling?” He used his good hand to move the cloth from his face and started to sit up. I helped him and moved more pillows behind his back. “Take it easy. I don’t want you to pass out again.”

“I just need to eat.”

I handed him the sandwich, and he grabbed it. “Go slow.”

He took a bite and sat it back on the plate with shaky hands. I opened the water bottle for him, and he took a few long sips. “Go slow with the water too. You don’t want to make yourself sick.”

“It’s not the first time my father has tried to starve me. I know how to handle it.” He said that so casually, like it was something anyone would understand.

“He’s a dead man.”

Nikolai’s eyes widened. “You can’t. Your family⁠—”

“I can and I will. Not now though. Now I want you to tell me what happened.”

“I… I don’t know where to start.”

I wanted to demand he start by telling me how he knew where I lived and what made him think I would save him. He’d been right, of course. I’d fucked up. I’d indulged myself when I knew better, and I wasn’t going to make him pay for my mistakes any more than he already had. I could hardly stand to see the bruises on his face. No one would ever touch him like that again. I would see to that. After a slow breath, I said, “Start from the beginning. What happened after I left?”

He squeezed his eyes shut, then winced.

“It’s all right. Just relax and tell me.”

“I didn’t want you to leave.”

I hadn’t wanted to leave, but I didn’t let myself say that. I couldn’t encourage more of a connection between us.