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“Mariya was born into this world. Plus, she’s a teenager. She thinks she’s immortal.”
“She just got shot,” I argue.
“And survived.” He rolls his eyes. “As far as she’s concerned, that’s even more proof. She’s going to be impossible to keep track of now.”
I smile, but my chest still aches. I can’t force myself to step out of the safety of the car. “I’m happy to be back. I want to be here.”
“I know.” Yakov’s hand slides up my leg slowly. His fingers brush along my inner thigh. The tingling low in my stomach is a nice distraction from the panic in my brain. “Take your time.”
“Keep touching me like that and I’ll sit here forever.”
“Fine by me.” Yakov smirks. It’s the first hint of a real smile I’ve seen from him in days. Maybe longer. “But there’s a lot more security around the mansion now. I don’t think you want an audience for all the things I’m going to do to you once you’re ready.”
I’m ready now, I want to say. It’s partially true. Where Yakov is concerned, I’m always ready.
But I’m currently so terrified that I can’t even stand up and walk into the mansion on my own. Orgasming would be a nice distraction, but I don’t want to use Yakov as a distraction.
He’s more to me than that. We are more than that.
My face is burning hot as I take his hand and let him help me out of the car. I stand on unsteady legs and Yakov presses his lips to my ear. “I’ve got you, Luna. I’ll never let anyone hurt you.”
My eyes flutter closed. “I don’t think even you can make that promise.”
“How many times do I have to tell you?” he asks, pulling back to look down at me. “I can do whatever the fuck I want.”
With his chiseled jawline and broad shoulders blocking out the world around me, I’m inclined to believe him.
Yakov helps me up the stairs and into the house. As soon as I’m through the front door, Gregory is making a figure-eight around my ankles. His tail swishes back and forth as he meows at my feet.
Guilt gnaws at my stomach. I was so distracted by everything else that I didn’t even think about Gregory.
“Has he been fed? The front door was wide open when I was—” Kidnapped. I swallow down the word. “Did he run off? Who brought him back? Is he?—”
“He’s fine,” Hope calls from the hallway.
She’s walking towards us, a dish towel thrown over her shoulder. I’m not sure why, but tears fill my eyes at the sight of Yakov’s maid. The normalcy of it all is overwhelming. “It’s so good to see you.”
Hope grins. “I’m glad you’re back. Gregory is, too. He spent most of his time yowling at the bedroom door and in front of Yakov’s office. He missed you both.”
I reach down and scratch behind his fuzzy ears. “I missed you, too, buddy.”
Yakov closes the front door and grabs me gently by the elbow. “Come on. You should sit down.”
“I’m okay. I actually feel?—”
“Hope,” Yakov orders, “bring Luna some water. A snack, too.”
Hope nods and is already turning towards the kitchen.
“I’m okay. Really. I feel a lot?—”
“You need to rest.”
Yakov leads me to the sitting room, lays a blanket over my lap, and turns on the television.
And there we stay.
It’s nice to slow down with him and not have nurses and doctors interrupting every hour. But it’s also… strange. I’ve never seen Yakov sit still for so long before. He’s always busy, running off to some meeting or slipping away to talk on the phone. Now, he doesn’t seem to have anywhere else to be.
