I woke up gasping from a dream in which Alexei plunged his tongue deep inside my folds, wringing shivering cascades of pleasure out of me. Three days after the dinner party with his cousins, and I still couldn’t stop thinking about him.

I tried to tell myself that I didn’t have anything better to think about while I was here in Barcelona. Father was off with Evgeni most of the time. I didn’t even know if they were still hammering out the details of their arms deal anymore or if they were just drinking and reminiscing. Or worse, if Father had allowed himself to be drawn into some other business dealings with the Volkovs. We didn’t need the money, necessarily, but I knew that Father wouldn’t say no to a nice bit of work, even if it was work for the most ruthless mob syndicate that we knew of.

I swallowed hard, trying to remember that Alexei was part of that same mob syndicate. Why, oh why, had I ever let him have me again?

I knew why. I hadn’t been able to tear my eyes off him the whole night. There was something so flattering about the fact that he couldn’t seem to stop staring at me. He’d never let me know, before, how badly he wanted me. Seeing that naked desire on his face… Well, I wasn’t immune to that sort of flattery, even when it went against my best judgment to sleep with him.

I wasn’t going to sleep with him again, though. I had made that resolve that same night after I’d gotten back to the hotel room that the Volkov family was putting me up in. I’d sat there in the window, staring out over the city, surprised to find tears in my eyes.

I didn’t really know why I was surprised. Oh Alexei, what a life I could have had with him…

The thing was, at the end of these couple weeks in Barcelona, I was going to head straight back to Russia, alone again. Even sitting there that night in the hotel, I felt so lonely. So cold, so dreadful. I wanted nothing more than to be there in Alexei’s arms—but I knew I couldn’t have that.

I shook my head and pulled myself out of the comfy nest that I’d made for my nap. It was late evening already; I had slept for longer than I’d meant to. I smiled a little at my reflection in the mirror: I’d finally gotten some sun today, and although it had made me drowsy, I was pleased to see the sun-kissed look of my cheeks. That was one good thing to take back from Barcelona, I supposed.

I hesitated next to my closet. When I wandered out to the other side of the suite, it was dark, and there were no signs of Father anywhere. He must still be with the Volkovs, then. For a moment, I felt an irrational stab of anger. We had gone to dinner for the past two nights in a row, though; there was no reason why I couldn’t enjoy my own company for the night.

I headed back towards my closet and stared at the things I had brought from St. Petersburg with me. I had packed knowing that I would see Alexei. But I hadn’t exactly packed knowing that I would sleep with him. What I really wanted to wear that night was some killer outfit to make him feel regretful for not calling me.

Even if having him call me was the last thing I wanted.

I grinned to myself, a plan forming in the back of my mind, and slipped into a semi-sheer black sheath dress that left very little to the imagination. I pulled the hair tie out of my hair, letting it fall in waves down my back. Then, I carefully did my makeup, accentuating my eyes and my lips.

Ritmo was busy when I got there—surprisingly so for a Thursday night. But not busy enough that I couldn’t immediately spot Alexei, sat at one of the booths in the back corner, surrounded by his cousins. Perfect.

I headed towards the bar, knowing I needed to make sure he noticed me before I put the next part of my plan into action. I hopped up on one of the stools, turning my body so that it was slightly sideways, giving him a good view of my legs.

Out the corner of my eye, I could see one of his cousins nudge him. Alexei’s gaze stuck on me for a long moment—until I turned towards the bartender to order my drink. Once the dark drink arrived, I plucked the cherry out of it, tilting my head back as I picked the fruit off the stem. Then, I turned towards his booth, meeting his gaze and making sure that he was still watching me.

For a moment, I wondered if he would still have left Russia if I had been like this back then. Maybe if I’d been just a little sexier, a little more confident in myself, he would have found a way to stay.

I didn’t want to think about that now, though.

Instead, I slipped off my stool and crossed the bar, walking boldly up to a Spanish man leaning against the opposite wall, his arms folded across his chest as he surveyed the crowd. I smiled coyly at him and watched as his eyes stroked my body.

There was something animalistic in the way he stared at me, and I knew I had picked the perfect guy. Alexei would be pissed if he saw me with this dude. It was a way of throwing the other night away, of showing that none of this mattered to me either.

I tossed back the rest of my drink and very deliberately set down the empty glass on a nearby table. The Spaniard took the hint and led me out to the dance floor.

The guy had moves, I had to admit that. Typical of Barcelona’s club scene, this place was playing some sort of dance music, but you wouldn’t have known it from the way he spun me around, grinding his hips against mine, his hands hot all over my body. I laughed as I tried to keep up with him, and he graced me with a smile as well—albeit a smile that did nothing to hide his absolute lust.

I shivered a little at the dark passion in his eyes.

To be honest, my plan hadn’t gone this far ahead. I hadn’t thought about what we would do beyond dancing. But when he pulled my body close to his and kissed me, I didn’t want to push him away. It was hot and sticky in the club, and there was something altogether carnal about this. I had never had a one-night stand before. Maybe it was time to let a sexy Spaniard whose name I didn’t even know whirl me around the dancefloor and then pin me down beneath his sheets.

Alexei looked angry when I risked a glance over at him, and I couldn’t help feeling self-satisfied even though I also felt vaguely guilty.

Did I really want to hurt Alexei? It had never been his fault that he had been called off to Barcelona. I could never blame him for coming here, not back then and not now. No matter how much we might have wished things could be different, everything had been out of his control, just as much as it had been out of mine.

But this wasn’t about hurting him, I reminded myself. This was about making sure we didn’t make the same mistake again while I was here in Barcelona; breaking up a second time would be too painful. Better that I made him so angry, he didn’t want to come near me for the rest of the time before my flight home.

The Spaniard led me over to the bar and ordered two drinks, holding one out to me. Whatever it was, it smoky and unbelievably alcoholic—but I knocked it back anyway, against my better judgment. If I was really going to go home with this guy tonight, I would need all the courage I could get.

I couldn’t help letting my eyes drift back to the booth in the back. Alexei’s cousins were all still there—but surprisingly enough, I saw no signs of Alexei.

I felt a flash of hurt. Even though this was my own fault, I had expected to get some sort of reaction out of Alexei. But again, it seemed as if instead of sparks flying, I was up against pure ice. Alexei was freezing me out of his life. He hadn’t even bothered to cause a scene, to try to fight for me, to act like he cared. Instead, he had just…gotten up and left?

I swallowed hard, feeling abandoned. Just like I had back in St. Petersburg. I felt tears prick the corners of my eyes, and I hastily took another sip of my drink, hoping the alcohol would wash away the tears.

I realized the Spaniard was watching me watch the Russian crew, and I felt embarrassed, knowing he must understand that I was just acting slutty towards him because I was looking to exact revenge. But what did it matter what he thought?

I let him tug me towards the door. “My place,” he growled as he led me out to the street. He paused for a moment, giving me time to say no.

But even if I didn’t go home with him, there was no one else waiting for me anywhere. Without hesitating, I climbed into the cab.