I’m still exhausted from the events of today. The nap in the car wasn’t enough, and I really just want to lay down and sleep. There’s many things I should be questioning right now, like why I was kidnapped, how Ivan and his men are well trained with guns, and what all of this means, but if Ivan is offering me a place to stay for the night, then I’ll take it. I don’t feel like arguing in this moment.
Ivan continues to hold me in his arms as he makes his way up the main staircase, then opens the door to the guest room. He sets me down on my feet, but doesn’t let go of my hand. When I look down and notice that our fingers are intertwined, a shot of warmth passes through my arm and settles in my lower abdomen.
“This is your room. The bathroom is through there,” he explains, pointing towards the bathroom door. “Take a bath, a shower, whatever you need. There’s a robe in the closet for you to wear when you’re done.”
I thank him as he leaves, closing the bedroom door behind him. Sighing heavily, I walk into the bathroom and start the shower. I look at myself in the mirror and notice the red mark on my cheek from where I was slapped earlier by the kidnappers. This one doesn’t seem as bad as the last time I was attacked, though.
I take a shower and wash my hair, grateful for the water pressure that relaxes my muscles and helps me calm down. I brush my teeth with a fresh toothbrush that was unopened on the counter, put on the fluffy bathrobe, and walk out into the bedroom to find a shirt laying on the bed for me. It must be one of Ivan’s, because when I pick it up, it smells just like him. I inhale his scent deeply before pulling it over my head and putting the robe back on. I’m about to go in search of Ivan when I hear a knock on my door.
“Emma, I’m coming in,” Ivan says from the other side.
“Okay,” I reply as he enters.
“My housekeeper can wash your clothes for you tomorrow when she arrives. If you need anything in the night, my room is just across the walkway,” he tells me, gesturing over his shoulder.
“Thank you,” I say appreciatively.
“You’re safe here,lyubimaya,” Ivan says. I just stare back at him as he leaves the room and closes the door behind him.
I walk over to the bed to pull back the covers and crawl underneath them, facing the wall. The bed is so soft and the bedding so warm, that it’s not long before I’m falling asleep.
I’ll go back to my apartment tomorrow and try to get back to a normal routine.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
EMMA
I WAKE UP the next morning feeling rested, but a little uneasy. I spent the night at Ivan’s house in the most comfortable bed I’ve ever slept in. I kind of don’t want to leave this bed, but when I roll over to check the location of my phone, instead my stomach rumbles loudly. I find my phone on the side table, plugged in like it’s always been there. I don’t remember plugging in my phone when Ivan left me here last night. I wonder if maybe he came in while I was sleeping and did it for me.
I get out of bed, brush my teeth, and then go in search of Ivan and some coffee. As soon as I open the bedroom door, I smell bacon, so I follow my nose to the kitchen. Ivan didn’texactlygive me a grand tour last night, but it was pretty easy to find the kitchen. Bacon has never led me astray.When I walk into the kitchen, Ivan is standing at the stove cooking breakfast. I stop in my tracks. The man has his back turned to me, and is wearing nothing but a pair of gray sweatpants that are sitting low on his hips. There is a huge dragon tattoo covering his back, with the tail running down Ivan’s spine and the wings spread out across his shoulders and part of his upper arms. It’s beautiful. I can also see some more tattoos running down his forearms and now I’m imagining what’s on the front of his chest. My breath hitches, and I have to wipe a little bit of drool from the corner of my mouth.
“Like what you see?” Ivan asks me over his shoulder. I have no idea how he knew I was standing there.
“Um…” is all I can manage to get out because my tongue has suddenly become too big for my mouth. Ivan chuckles and turns to face me. Holy crap on a cracker, this man has abs for days. When he smiles at me, I feel it down to my core.
I’m in deep trouble.
“Coffee?” he asks, holding up a coffee cup.
“Sure,” I respond and take a seat. The island in Ivan’s kitchen has stools tucked underneath it, creating a more comfortable environment. I’ve always felt more at home in a kitchen. Maybe that’s why I like being a waitress so much.
“When can I go back to my apartment?” I ask him as he puts a large coffee mug in front of me. His fingers graze mine as I reach for the cup, and a tingle shoots up my arm.
“When I know it is safe for you,” he tells me, turning back to the stove and scrambling some eggs.
“When will that be?” I ask.
“Persistent and stubborn,” Ivan mumbles with a shake of his head, avoiding my question as he places a plate of fresh scrambled eggs and bacon in front of me. He has his own plate and stands opposite me while he eats.
“I’m half Irish. The Irish have historically been persecuted by others, so we sometimes fight back,” I retort. Ivan laughs again before taking a sip of his own coffee.
“This goes beyond being stubborn,” Ivan says, his voice getting louder the more he speaks. “You wereassaultedoutside your apartment. You werekidnappedyesterday by four men working for the Irish mafia.”
“How do you know they were Irish?” I question.
“My brothers questioned the last man alive.”
“How did you know where I was?”
