Six times.
Sevastyan grated a reply to the man in Russian, and Vasili hastened out of the room.
To me he said, “Other women have plotted the same scheme! Congratulations, you’ve come the closest to success.” Despite the early hour, he strode to the bar and poured a vodka.
“I understand how bad this looks, but we can fix this.” My eyes widened. “A morning-after pill! I can take one!”
He wasn’t listening to me, beginning to pace. “The first time in my life I relax my guard enough to fuck without a condom, and you pull this move.”
I was being accused of trying to cheat someone out of money. Me! I covered my mouth with the back of my hand to contain hysterical laughter.
He kept pacing. “A play on a Russian mobster? What were you thinking?”
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from yelling, “I don’t do the swindling—I get swindled!” How much longer could I muzzle my runaway mouth? One day, I was going to blow, like a seething boiler.
The thought horrified me; I mentally renewed my allegiance to rule number one.
“I thought you were smarter than this,” he said. “But then, you are greedy.”
A greedy prostitute. That’s how he saw me. I was so out of here. I’d go get my own pill, putting this all behind me.
When I strode toward the door, he blocked me. “You think I’m letting you leave? When you could even now be pregnant with my child?”
“I’m going to get a morning-after pill.”
“And I’ll just take your word for that?” Clamping my arm, he forced me back into the bedroom. “We’re going to fix this, then see about teaching you a lesson.” He snatched my phone from me.
“Give that back! What the hell are you doing?”
“A doctor is coming this morning.”
“To do what?”
Sevastyan just gave me a menacing smile, then locked the door.
CHAPTER 14
For the next two hours, I sat stewing, getting more and more nauseated. I had still been buzzed all morning, and now my hangover hit me with the force of a freight train.
I’d banged on the door, calling out, “I’m sick, Sevastyan! I need to take something.” He hadn’t come. So I could do nothing more than curl up on the bed, stomach roiling. I was mustering the energy to go hold vigil at the toilet when the door opened.
Sevastyan said, “He’s here.”
I sat up, and the room started to spin. I half-heaved. “I’m sick.”
“Uh-huh. Of course you are. And right when the doctor arrives? How fortunate that we can get him to take a look at this other ailment.” He grabbed my arm, forcing me to stand.
I tottered. “Sevastyan . . .”
He gazed down at my face, scowled. “Fuck.” He released me. “Go.”
I sprinted for the toilet, and skidded to my knees just as I started vomiting. The bastard was right behind me, leaning in the doorway.
“Go away!”
The champagne smell made me heave again and again, until I felt like I’d thrown up bottles of the stuff.
Finally he left.
I emptied my stomach till I was too exhausted to do more. Somehow I made it to my feet and flushed the toilet. I used his toothbrush, then threw it away. I felt grimy, and I couldn’t lose that sickly sweet champagne scent.
If I tried to take a shower, would I fall asleep under the water? I should fall asleep there.
I tossed a towel to the floor, turned on the rain showerhead, then sat with my knees to my chest. This was working! My nausea eased as sleep stole over me. I leaned my head against the wall, and I was out. . . .
“What the hell are you doing?”
I blinked up at Sevastyan. How long had I slept? He looked furious, as usual.
He turned off the water, plucking me from the shower. He roughly dried me off, then dressed me in another T-shirt. “Get this over with, then I don’t care what you do.”
“Are you happy now?” I demanded of Sevastyan when the doctor left.
I’d agreed to let the Miami “Gyno to the Rich” administer a morning-after shot and insert an IUD to prevent fertilization. Was that the Russian’s idea? He was that paranoid?
He calmly sat on the living room couch. Though rain threatened, he had all the doors and windows open. “Happy? No. Satisfied that your plan won’t work? Da.”
Having some strange man examine me was bad enough, but Sevastyan had stayed in the room! He’d been there when the physician had said things like, “Definitely could’ve conceived,” “Somebody certainly had a vigorous night,” and “What a tiny cervix; this will hurt.”
Sevastyan hearing that stuff was worse than the pinch of insertion. To add insult to injury, the two men had talked privately afterward. About my body!
I held out my palm. “I want my phone back. I wish I could say it’s been nice knowing you. . . .”
“You don’t get off this easily. I’ve mitigated the damage, but now you’ll pay for your crimes. You’ll stay here until I decide what to do with you.”
“You can’t just keep me!”
“Watch me. A deceitful little girl like you needs to learn not to fuck with a dangerous man like me.”
“You know what? Consider the phone a parting gift.” I grabbed my purse, coat, and shoes and bolted for the door, yanking it open.
In the lobby, Vasili spoke with two other suited men, holsters visible.
Though I expected them to stop me, I reached the elevator call button, pressing it repeatedly.
Nothing happened. I pressed it again. I had a sinking suspicion I’d now need a key to get off this floor. I turned to the stairwell, shoving on the door. Locked?