“I’ll wait out here,” I tell her as I close the door behind me. I don’t walk away from the door until I hear the soft splash of her sinking into the tub.
I make my way back to her bedroom to look around. In her closet, I find a set of clean sheets, so I strip the old ones off her bed and replace them with the clean ones. I can do this small thing for her while she processes her grief. I peek into her closet again and locate some sleep shorts, but can’t find a top to go with them. On instinct, I remove the undershirt I’m wearing and place it with the sleep shorts.
“I found you something to change into,” I say through the bathroom door. “I’ll leave it outside the door for when you’re ready for them.” I set the pajamas down and go back to the kitchen table to wait.
About twenty minutes later, I hear the bathroom door open and see Emma walking down the short hallway towards the kitchen. I try, and nearly fail, to suppress a groan when I see her walking towards me. The undershirt I gave her falls to her knees, covering the sleep shorts I pray to God she’s wearing underneath. Just the thought of her wearing nothing beneath my undershirt makes my cock stand at attention, and I have to slyly adjust myself before I can speak.
“How are you feeling now?” I ask her. She still looks sad and tired, but I think the bubble bath helped with some of her anxiety and stress.
“Clean,” she says with a small smile on her lips. “Can I finish my food?”
“Of course you can,lyubimaya,”I tell her. She can have anything she wants if it means she’ll eat something.
“Don’t you have somewhere to be today?” Emma asks me as she finishes eating.
“Yes—here,” I tell her.
“You don’t have to stay here,” Emma replies.
“That’s where you’re wrong, Emma. I’m staying.”
”Fine. I’m going back to bed.” Emma gets up from the table and walks back down the hallway to her bedroom. “Those are new. Did you change my sheets?”
“I did,” I answer.
“Thank you.” She turns into my arms to hug me, and then starts crying again.
“Come,lyubimaya. Lay down and rest.” Emma lets me guide her to the bed and tuck her in.
I take off my shoes and crawl onto the bed, laying down on my back on top of the covers beside her. She doesn’t try to stop me, which has my chest tightening. Emma turns her body towards mine, resting her head on my shoulder while placing her arm across my torso. I’ve got one arm wrapped around her and the other tucked behind my head. It doesn’t take long for Emma’s breathing to even out, indicating she’s asleep.
I hold her close to me, tracing lazy patterns up and down her back to help keep her relaxed. I’ve never held a woman like this before, but with Emma, it feels natural. As long as she is in my arms and close to me, I can keep her safe from whoever and whatever is after her.
I look down at Emma’s sleeping form and place a gentle kiss on the top of her head. Feeling myself relax, I think to myself that there is nowhere else I’d rather be than right here in this moment, before I doze off to sleep.
CHAPTER TWELVE
EMMA
IVAN STAYED WITH me in my apartment for three days, making sure that I ate, took a bath, and held me whenever I cried. He acted like a good boyfriend— even a good husband—should in a highly charged and emotional situation.
He’s not my boyfriend, and I’m not entirely sure he would even want to be. Ivan is older than me, and with his blue eyes, chiseled jaw covered in trim stubble, and well-built body, this man could have any girl he wanted. He probably does. Men like him don’t look twice at a girl like me. I’m five-foot-three, curvy, and vocal with my opinions. I’m nobody special.
Ivan had a business meeting this morning, so he left a little while ago—but not before making sure I was fed, dressed, and out of bed. This morning, I need to visit the funeral home and finalize things with Gran’s funeral.
“Well, no time like the present,” I say out loud to myself, getting up from the kitchen table and taking my empty coffee cup to the sink. I grab my purse and coat, then head for the door.
“What are you doing here?” I ask Yuri who stands directly across the hallway from my door.
“Keeping an eye on you,” he tells me. His accent is a little bit thicker than Ivan’s.
“Ivan is making you do this, isn’t he?”
“He’s the boss. He tells me to keep an eye on you, so that’s what I do.” Yuri doesn’t seem to have the greatest of a sense of humor.
“Whatever you say.” He turns to follow me down the stairs and out the door of the building. “Why are you following me?” I ask him as soon as I step onto the sidewalk.
“Boss’s orders,” Yuri replies simply.
