The buzzer gave a single burst. Then it stopped.
Anastasia was still as a statue.
She was sprawled on her side among the silky sheets. One arm was pinned beneath her pillow, her pale hair a mess. She'd been tossing. Dreams battled with denial all night. Her brain was a locked box. It was stuffed with words she dared not speak.
She hated the endless loop. Last night played in her mind. A scene she yearned to rewrite.
His gaze burned in her memory.
She craved his touch.
Yet, his hands stayed still.
She pushed herself up. The sheets hugged her. London's daylight seeped into the room, a silent watcher.
"No more games," she muttered. Rein it in. You're no lovesick kid.
She was Anastasia Volkova.
Anastasia Volkova didn't grovel for attention.
Even if his eyes held a winter storm. Even if his touch sparked a fire in her.
---
She drifted into the kitchen suite. A robe hid her form. It was loosely knotted at the waist.
He was already there, though.
Aleksandr was perched by the counter. Black coffee warmed his hand. A gun holster peeked from his open jacket. His shirt was snug. Sleeves were pushed up to his elbows. His hair had a tousled look. He'd either not slept well. Or at all.
He flicked a glance her way.
One glance.
Then his attention returned to his phone.
"Morning, princess."
She scoffed. "Is that you being nice?"
"I'm just noting you're alive. Still dramatic, too."
She filled her cup with espresso. Her robe threatened to slip off her shoulder. He saw it. She felt it. But his face remained calm.
Coward.
"You are quiet today," she observed.
"I didn't sleep a wink."
"Let me take a wild guess. Guarding the kingdom?"
"Not quite." He tasted his drink. "Dreams haunted me."
That made her pause.
"Dreams, you say?"
He nodded once.
Her voice was softer, curious. "Nightmares?"
He met her eyes. Just a moment. "Memories. That's all."
Something in his tone hinted at "don't pry."
So she didn't ask.
Still, she held his gaze.
---
THE COURTYARD - AFTERNOON
Classes blurred together. Anastasia's mind was elsewhere. She missed lectures. She didn't see the professors, or the stares of those around her. She was perched by the window. Her long legs crossed. She scribbled to look busy.
But her eyes kept darting to her phone.
Then to the hallway. Beyond the glass, Aleksandr was a shadow by the arch. Unmoving. Unreadable. Always watching.
Theo was back after class.
Relentless.
"Lunch in the city, Anastasia?" He stood close. His scent filled the air. "I have a car waiting. We could slip out. Ditch your... chaperone."
She gave him a withering look.
"I don't sneak. If I want to leave, I go out the front in heels."
He laughed. "Bold, are we?"
"No. Just not interested in you."
"Because of him?"
Her eyes narrowed into slits. "You ask a lot. Especially for a guy already turned down."
He leaned in closer to her. "A bodyguard can't give you what you really crave."
Before she could answer, Aleksandr stepped between them.
His arm grazed hers. He moved with purpose. No real contact. Yet, his presence shifted the air.
"You were leaving," he said to Theo. His voice dripped ice.
Theo blinked. "Excuse me?"
Aleksandr took a step. Slow and deliberate. "Now."
Theo, cocky as he was, backed down. He broke eye contact quick.
Smart boy.
Anastasia turned to Aleksandr. "I didn't need that."
"Didn't you want me to?" he asked. He was watching her face intently.
She wavered.
"No. I mean... yes. I mean-" She scoffed. She brushed past him. "Forget it ever happened."
As she passed, he murmured words only she could hear.
"He can't give you what you want either."
---
LATER THAT NIGHT - HER BALCONY
She was outside her suite. No shoes, she wore one of her dad's shirts. It was big and soft. Her hair was wet from her late shower. The sky was a deep blue. Stars glittered.
Aleksandr watched from inside. Arms crossed. He leaned against the open door.
She didn't turn around.
"I keep waiting for you to stop staring," she whispered.
"I'm trained not to be distracted by pretty things."
"You're lying. You do get distracted."
He didn't speak.
She turned. Slowly.
"I'm not a child. You don't need to look after me. I'm not off-limits because my father pays you."
"You are all of those things," he said softly.
"But you still want me."
His jaw flexed.
She moved closer.
"Want to know the truth, Aleksandr? I want you. I've wanted you from the first night you pulled a gun. It was because a bird landed too close on the Volkova estate."
He didn't even blink.
"I'm not scared of you," she said.
"You should be scared," he said. His voice was dark. "I don't love gently. I'm not kind. I've done awful things. I don't play. I destroy everything."
She reached him. She stood on her toes. Her lips were close to his.
"I'm already burning to ashes."
Then she turned away.
She left him staring at the night. It held answers he didn't want.
He kept staring at the closed balcony doors way after she was gone.
She didn't have a clue about the game she was playing.
Or perhaps she did. Maybe that was the most perilous aspect.
Anastasia Volkova wasn't some girl playing dress-up with danger. She was the storm acting like sunshine.
She tested his willpower as no one before ever had. Even the battlefield hadn't made him this tense.
She was like a drug. So bold. Maddening.
The worst part? Off-limits.
Every move she did changed the rules he had promised to follow.
Aleksandr sat at the edge of the suite's soft armchair, elbows on his knees, head hanging between his hands.
He needed something to take his mind off of her. He needed a cold shower. A reminder.
Instead, his phone vibrated.
New encrypted message: Grayson Locke.
> "What's the story?"
"Any alarms?"
"Don't lie to me. I know when you start losing it."
Aleksandr didn't answer.
He didn't need to do it. Grayson would show up if needed.
---
ANASTASIA - NEXT DAY
The campus library had dim lights. Soft light played in her platinum locks as she bent over a big history book. She wasn't reading it.
Her mind was somewhere else.
Last night kept playing in her head. His eyes. That tension. His dangerous tone when he said he didn't touch gently.
"I'm already burning up."
God, she had really said that.
What's wrong?
Her edge was slipping. The hunger for him was fogging her focus.
"Excuse me… Anastasia?" a voice said.
She blinked a bit.
It was a girl from class. Brunette, sharp cheekbones, too many accessories. She seemed like someone who smiled with her teeth more than her heart.
"Hi there. I'd like to say I love your shoes. Your hair too. Everything, actually." Her voice dripped with sweet poison.
"Thanks," Anastasia said in a flat voice.
"Is it true what folks are saying?"
She closed her book with a snap. "What is it they're saying?"
The girl had a smirk. "That your bodyguard is more than just hired muscle?"
Anastasia's glare cut like a knife.
"I heard he sleeps right outside your door."
"He's paid to keep me safe," Anastasia replied in a calm voice.
"Sure. Fine." The girl leaned closer, eyes sly. "Would you care if I went to meet him?"
Anastasia smiled, sweet like.
"Only if you want emergency dental work."
---
SECURITY OFFICE - ELSEWHERE ON CAMPUS
Grayson Locke wasn't the kind of guy to knock before entering.
He walked into Aleksandr's temporary office. He wore all black. He had a smirk that only came out when stuff was going wrong.
Aleksandr didn't look up from the monitors.
"Just don't."
Grayson laughed. "Don't what?"
"Don't say that judgmental crap you came here to spill."
"I was just wondering how she tastes."
Aleksandr glared at him.
Grayson raised both hands in the air, amused. "Okay, alright. I'm just pointing out… You've protected diplomats, CEOs, even the Crown Prince of Dubai. But this girl-"
"She isn't just any girl," Aleksandr shot back.
He regretted it right away.
Grayson's eyes became darker. "That's the heart of the problem, isn't it?"
Aleksandr stood up. His jaw was tight. "She's under my protection here."
"Right, if you're not watching yourself, she'll be under you another way."
"Get out now."
Grayson did not argue. But he stopped by the door.
"Don't forget why you got hired. Volkova does not trust folks easy. If you screw this up, you won't just lose your job. You will lose your life."
And then he left the room.
---
THAT NIGHT - THE INCIDENT
It all went down so fast.
Anastasia had insisted on going to a networking gala for elite families. It was invitation-only. Aleksandr stayed with her all night. He watched every move made in the room. He was quiet, but always watching.
There was something he had not counted on.
A threat from the inside.
She went into the ladies' hallway near the ballroom. A person in a staff uniform went after her. He was swift. He was silent.
But Aleksandr had seen him before tonight.
He was not on the security list at all.
The man reached for her. Aleksandr was already there.
Gun out.
Pressed to the man's head.
His voice was a calm and deadly whisper. "Touch her then say goodbye to your hand."
The man was still. His eyes were crazy.
Anastasia gasped. She had not even spotted the threat. She could sense the shift in Aleksandr, though.
He was not her sexy shadow anymore.
He was now a weapon.
Security rushed in just seconds later. The man was taken away. A knife was discovered in his boot.
Nobody asked anything. Nobody dared do it.
Back in the car, the silence felt different now.
It was heavy.
"You alright?" Aleksandr asked. He looked at her finally.
Anastasia shook a bit. But she hid it well.
She nodded her head. "I didn't even see him there."
"But I saw him."
She looked at him then.
"Why do you care so deeply?"
His answer came soft. "If anything ever happened to you-"
He went silent.
Their eyes met each other.
She touched his hand on the center console. His fingers didn't move. His body stilled completely.
"You make me scared sometimes," she whispered.
He leaned closer to her, speaking soft.
"That's good. Before I let anyone hurt you, I will burn this whole country down."
Their faces were so close.
Their breath mixed together.
Time was slowing down now.
Then...
The driver cleared his throat to let them know.
They moved away quickly.
The spark had already caught fire.