His filthy curse rang around the cabin, but did nothing to alleviate his frustration.
Jasmine looked at him with wide eyes, more alert than shocked at his outburst.
“So all of the seven thousand pounds you were boasting about? No wonder you weren’t making any dent in—”
“Yes, okay. I have done this before.”
He shot up from his seat, like a wild animal that had forced itself to be peaceful until now. That was what always made her curious.
That carefree, reckless, unemotional demeanor he put on—that wasn’t the natural state for Dmitri.
His jeans outlined those powerful thighs and tight butt, his gray shirt molding to the hard planes of his lean stomach. It was impossible to be in the same room as him and not be aware of his every breath, every movement.
Before she could blink, he was bending over her seat, his breath whispering against her cheek.
Every inch of her uncoiled at the latent power of his body caging her against the seat. Heat from his lean frame stroked her, and she gripped the leather seat tight. “You do know that she will just drink all your hard-earned cash, don’t you?”
She nodded, mesmerized by the molten depths of his eyes.
“Then, it hasn’t sunk into that stubborn skull of yours that she’s only manipulating you? That she will suck the blood out of you but not stop? That you’re nothing but a crutch that she’ll use for the rest of your life?”
“She’s still my bloody mother.” She was shouting now, her eyes filling with furious tears. “Would you rather I walk away like you did, wash my hands off, turn away from that dirty world? Pretend as though I never came from there in the first place, as if I never had a weakness or a flaw to begin with? Spend the rest of my life pursuing mindless pleasure in every corner of the world as if it was my due?”
A flicker of something molten flashed in his eyes, a flinch to his mouth.
She had surely angered him now. But instead of fear, she felt only exhilaration. As if the blood pounded harder in her veins.
He dipped his head even lower, bringing his mouth so close to hers. God, all she had to do was tilt her chin up and her lips would graze his. She would finally know how he tasted; she would know what she had already imagined a thousand times over.
Just one taste, that was all she wanted of this man who set her senses aflame without even trying.
“So whatever little you had to pay me back is gone now, ne?” he finally said in a silkily dangerous voice.
It made her feel oddly hollow, weightless.
“What happened to your pride, Jas? What happened to paying me back even if it killed you? What happened to not depending on me for anything ever again?” His thumb traced her lower lip, as if he was testing the shape and softness of it.
It was not affectionate or tender...and yet, the ache between her legs was long, low and instantaneous.
Instead of slamming his hand away, she froze.
“You don’t have a job. You donated your meager savings because you’re weak enough to still want to matter to her.” He traced the seam of her collar with a long finger, and her skin tingled as if he had drawn a line of fire down her throat. “Even the shirt you’re wearing is mine.” Her heart threatened to rip out of her chest as he scrunched the fabric with one hand and pulled her forward.
He whispered the words against the corner of her mouth. “How exactly do you think you’re going to pay me back now that you’re penniless?”
Incendiary heat sparked from that small patch of skin, and she shivered violently. His fingers pressing into her jaw, his body locking her against the seat, there was nowhere for her to go, even if she would have wanted to.
“Or is it that,” he continued, a certain relish to the way he enunciated every word, “your pride and outrage at being in my debt was just an elaborate farce? Did you envision living a cozy and comfortable life off my goodwill and wealth? A rich benefactor was what you were looking for all along? Does Noah get a cut?”
She felt her chest tighten at the very picture he painted in such a honeyed tone, as if he very thoroughly relished twisting the knife as deep as he could.
A soundless scream ricocheted inside her, leaving marks, while she still grappled with the poison in his words, with that savagely satisfied glint in his gaze.
He’s doing this on purpose, some naive, weak part of her moaned.
But she squashed that stupid, wanting, weak Jas.
It didn’t matter how much he believed his own outrageous claim; it didn’t matter if he truly thought her a scheming witch out to snare a better lifestyle.