Wild Men of Alaska 04 - Wild Men of Alaska - Four Book Bundle

room, with comfy leather furniture to her left and a cheerfully burning fire in the stone-laid fireplace to her right. Glass windows took up the opposite wall overlooking a large deck and the view of the ocean. A thick bear rug lay at her feet.
    She sat in a rough-hewn wooden chair made of logs with her hands tied behind her back. Sergei hadn’t restrained her feet. The chair was heavy and large enough that she wouldn’t be able to stand and use her body weight to break free from it. Hence the reason he hadn’t restrained her further.
    His mistake.
    She hadn’t been tied up long because other than the strain in her shoulders, and fighting with Sergei earlier, she wasn’t stiff. He’d stripped her of her outerwear and boots, leaving her wearing only black Polartec base layers and Smartwool hiking socks.
    Her hair hung loose curtaining off her face from his view. But she knew he was there, watching her. She could smell him. A fiery mix of danger and sex as potent as the Russian vodka he liked to drink.
    She remembered everything that had happened in sharp detail before he’d put the choke hold on her. The man had to have balls of steel for being able to function after how hard she’d kicked his privates. Part of her was surprised Sergei hadn’t killed her. Maybe he wanted to torture her some more. But the joke was on him. Nothing could hurt her worse than what he’d already done to her.
    “I know you’re avake,” he murmured from her left. “How’s your head?”
    Slowly she raised eyes to glare at him from under her brows. “How do you think it is?”
    “Probably pounding like son of a bitch.”
    Yeah, that about summed it up.
    “I brought you aspirin and vater.”
    “What is this? Nurse the prisoner back to health so you can break her kind of thing?”
    “I don’t vant to break you. I love how you are, Katja. How do you Americans say, ‘All piss and vinegar’?”
    “Very attractive.”
    He cocked his head, and his eyes turned slumberous as they traveled up and down her form fitting outfit. “I think so.”
    “Untie me.”
    “I don’t think so.”
    “Afraid?”
    “I don’t relish you trying to squash my balls again.”
    “Coward.”
    He inclined his head as though giving her a point. “Call it vhat you vill. I have plans for my manhood, and I’d prefer to keep things civilized between us.”
    She’d yet to experience anything “civilized” where he was concerned. But keeping him talking held his attention on the conversation and unaware of the blade she’d sewn into the modified elastic back-strap of her bra.
    Carefully with small movements, she pushed the blunt end of the knife, slicing through the hidden pocket in her bra and her shirt, freeing the weapon from her clothing. She turned the blade, painfully nicking the side of her finger, and started sawing through the bindings.
    “Vhat took you so long to find me?” Sergei sat on the low coffee table in front of the leather couch, kitty-corner to her, and flicked two aspirin out of the bottle.
    “What do you mean? It wasn’t like you sent me an invitation.”
    “Pretty much, that’s exactly vhat I did. Do you really think you vould have found me othervise?” He held two aspirins in the palm of his hand, showing her the bottle to prove he wasn’t slipping her something else. Like she’d trust anything he offered her. “Take.”
    “No, thank you.”
    “There is no reason for you to suffer.”
    “I’ve been suffering since I met you.”
    He leaned forward and trailed a finger down her jaw line. “Katja,” his voice hummed his pet name for her deep from within his chest. “Tis no good, lying to one’s self.”
    Memories flooded her at his touch. Yearning shook her hands, and she almost lost hold of the blade. She couldn’t let him distract her. Her body might crave his touch, but it was mind over matter. And it mattered more than anything for her not to lose herself in him again.
    “How long are you going to keep me tied up?” she asked as the first twist of rope gave way. She made sure not to move her arms and reveal what she was doing. She also needed to get him away from her. He was too close. For many reasons.
    His eyes bored into hers, as though sifting secrets from her soul. “That depends more on you.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “Still vant to kill me?”
    The scathing look she sent him had him smiling. “You’ll be restrained until you no longer desire my blood on your hands.”
    “I’m surprised a