The room that was to be India’s in the home of the Vasiliev’s wasn’t what she’d expected at all. Her mind had conjured up a dark and dreary place, more like a dungeon. Instead the room was large, airy, and she felt like she’d stepped into the 1800’s France, Versailles even. Thick cream drapes edged in gold covered the windows. She guessed the wallpaper was one of a kind. It had neutral tones depicting nudes in sexual acts that were almost indecent but she found it erotic.

Padding softly across the room, she reached up and traced her fingertips over an embossed golden man and woman who were wrapped around each other. The man looked as though he cherished the woman, making her long for that. Just the thought brought her thoughts back around to Mikhail, even though they hadn’t been to far from him in the first place.

The standoff between him and his father had made her heart pound and the palms of her hands sweat in fear at what would happen next. When she’d heard Vasiliev’s words about Mikhail’s motivation behind the comfort that he’d offered, she’d been tempted to question them. The subtle shake of her father’s head had made her hold her tongue.

People thought that she was a shrinking violet because of her small frame, pale clear skin and blonde hair, except she was anything but. It gave her an advantage, which would be known when the time was right . . . and if Mikhail was to be believed, she had seven days to come up with a plan on how to leave. Because there was no way that she would ever willingly go to bed with Konstantine Vasiliev and he knew it too.

Resting her forehead against the wall, she breathed deeply, trying to keep her fear at bay. She was fearful, but she was also hopeful, which would keep her going. It had to keep her going because there was nothing else otherwise.

She knew she was the clever one. That she could get out of anything, but now she was stuck in a situation that was rapidly spiraling out of her control without anyway out.

Mikhail might know a way.

“Hmm,” she muttered, turning to lean against the wall and letting her eyes drift over to the huge canopy bed. The curtains were tied around the four posts of the bed and were made from the same fabric as the window drapes. The quilt was white and covered with lace, which would be pretty if she wasn’t a plain cotton kind of girl. Lace and frills were certainly not her taste, but considering what she’d expected, she wasn’t going to complain.

She moved forward, breathing a sigh through her lips, and crawled onto the bed until her head reached the fluffy white pillows. Her body sunk into the welcoming and soft bed while her head continued to spin with everything that had happened so far.

Her father hadn’t even looked regretful when she’d been marched out of the only home she’d ever known. Mikhail had disappeared to one of the cars and when she had appeared he had refused to even look at her, although she did sense his anger. That came through loud and clear. His desertion made her wonder if she should believe the words his father had spoken.

You know you don’t believe them.

A tear slowly seeped from the corner of her eyes and rolled slowly down the side of her face and into her hair as she stared up at the thick padded canopy. He thought that she was stupid. Konstantine had put her in this room to put her off guard—to make her relax so that when he chose to pounce she wouldn’t have her defenses up. Well, little did he know! She was a fighter and if she couldn’t come up with a plan to get out of there before the seven days were up, then she’d fight . . . she’d . . .

She heard the sound of a key being turned in the lock so she quickly dried her cheeks in a panic and scrambled to sit up. Her back rested against the headboard and her arms wrapped tightly around her drawn up knees.

Her eyes widened at the sight of Mikhail walking into the room with a plate of steaming food and a bottle of water in his hands. He avoided looking at the bed and once he’d placed the things down on the vanity unit, he rested his hands on the surface and his head dropped.

“Mikhail,” she whispered, moving from the bed and padded softly over to where he stood, looking as taut as a bowstring.

She lifted her hand and after a brief hesitation, she placed her palm on the middle of his back, a gentle shudder rippled through him at her touch. “I’ve been banned from being anywhere near you,” he hissed, turning his head and searching her eyes. “My father has gone to a meeting, so I bribed your maid, Vanessa. I needed to make sure that you’re okay.”

He turned and when he grabbed ahold of her arms, he spun her around and pressed her up against the wall, holding her in place with his large body. Her heart raced being so close to him and a different kind of pulse started to throb between her legs where she pressed against his thigh.

He held her gaze, and asked, “Did you believe him?”

“I was beginning too,” she admitted, chewing her bottom lip. “I didn’t want to though.”

Resting his forehead against hers, his breaths heavy, he whispered, “I had to act like I don’t care,” while he nuzzled into her neck. “I want you, India.” His hands moved and grasped her hips, tugging her hard against him. Her eyes widened when she felt his steely erection rubbing against her hip. She might be a virgin, but she wasn’t naive.

“But,” he panted, “for now, you’re forbidden. My father will know if you’ve so much as received a kiss.”

“How?” She wiggled against him and felt his hands shake where he pinned her to the wall.

“One taste of you won’t be enough. I won’t be gentle. I won’t be able to. The minute our lips meet, I’ll devour you.”

She moaned and wrapped her arms around his neck. She pulled him closer and buried her face into his shoulder while she clung tightly. He hesitated for a moment before his arms wrapped around her waist.

His strength seeped into her with the tight hold he had on her waist. “I don’t ever want to let go,” he whispered, trying to get her legs around his waist.

He chuckled and tugged the skirt of her dress up and then he loudly groaned when his hands covered her bottom. “I need to leave.”

“Not yet.” She nibbled on his earlobe and his grunt, as he held her against the swollen length of him, was only encouraging to her ears. “I want something to dream about when I close my eyes,” she admitted.

“You’re killing me.” His hands trembled as he slowly put her away from him.

Glancing down, the huge bulge behind his zipper called to her and she licked her lips in anticipation. He hissed and turned away seconds before he crossed to the window, resting his forehead against the glass.

“I’m going to get you away from here before the seven days is up.” He quickly turned and met my gaze. “I’m not sure how, but I promise you this . . . My father will never get the chance to touch you,” he said the words so fiercely that she believed him, but something he hadn’t said trickled through her mind.

“You said you’d get me away from here. What about you? You are coming with me?” She moved closer and saw his jaw tighten at her words.

“I’m not sure if that’s possible . . . but, I will if I can.”