“Thank you,” I whisper against the pillows, my voice ragged. The words seem ridiculous, given what just happened, but I won’t take them back. I want him to know. “That was exactly what I needed.”
He grunts in sleepy satisfaction and collapses on the mattress beside me.
Then his arms encircle me and drag me to his chest, positioning me so my head rests on his shoulder.
“I should be thanking you.” His lips brush my forehead, softer than should be possible from the man who just used me so thoroughly.
We’ve now been honest with our bodies, if not yet with our words.
Chapter 30
Max
Light rouses me. Not the gray of the storm’s perpetual twilight but actual, direct sunshine. As I open my eyes, the steadydrip-dripof melting ice and snow joins the evidence of a storm that’s finally passed.
For the second day in a row, I wake stretched out in a soft, warm bed with Nika tucked into my side. Her leg’s over my hip, her head on my chest, her hand splayed over my ribs.
I could get addicted to this.
The thought drags my lips into a frown.
What am I even doing? I’m supposed to bring her back to Chicago like Roman wants.
And then what happens? I doubt he’d kill her after everything, but the rest of the family might want to. I did until… Well, I’m honestly not sure I don’t still want to.
Instead, I squeeze her tighter, pressing my face to the top of her head and breathing in the floral scent that follows her everywhere.
Fuck it. Even if she might deserve death for what she did to Sasha, I can’t kill her.
Sunlight cuts across the ceiling, from the windows to the door, then at a sharp angle. I follow the line with my eyes, trying to calculate the time of day. Does her window face east or west?
Another glimmer catches my attention.
A tiny glint inside the smoke detector, only visible from this perspective in certain light.
A smoke detector that didn’t go off when the chimney clogged despite being right next to the doorway.
My mind becomes fully alert in an instant, realization dousing me like ice water.
There’s a spy camera in her smoke detector.
What else would it be?
The device must be broadcasting with that little light.
Carefully disengaging from Nika, I slip out of bed. My bare feet hit the cold floor as I pad across the room to stand under the device.
From here, the plastic slats keep the camera hidden. I reach up, pop the detector off the ceiling, and find that the recording device has replaced the battery.
As big as it is, I’m dead certain this is the kind of device that can stream nonstop for days, if not several weeks. And it was trained at Nika’s bed.
Walking into the bathroom, I grab a hand mirror off the vanity. Catching the light from the room, I reflect it over the ceiling, walls, and fixtures.
I find the second camera tucked beside the hinge pin of the shower door and pointed in.
The implications are massive.
Dimitri.
