For a second, the fear of the situation I’m in vanishes, the heat that’s been in my veins all morning slithers out. It’s replaced by a cold, sharp clarity. I'm about to finally have all my wishes come true, I’m about to get my life in order.
"Soon," I whisper.
I shove the phone back into its hiding place and force myself to move. I can’t linger here. With the way Mikhail is, he’s probably already wondering where I am. I have to go somewhere, do something.
He tracks me like a hunter tracks a blood trail. I decide to have a sauna, wash off the smell of the conservatory, and get my plans in order because soon, everything will change.
I head toward the spa wing. The marble floors are so clean I can see my own reflection, flushed, messy, and looking like I’ve seen a ghost. Which, I guess, I have.
Two women in white uniforms are waiting at the entrance to the private suites. As they see me, they stand straighter and for a second; I think they’re going to be hostile towards me too but as I get closer, they bow their heads with polite smiles.
Huh.
"Good morning, Mrs. Morozova, my name is Maria, this is Lisha and we will serve you this morning." Maria says. Her voice is lowand steady. "The private sauna is ready, if you like. Eucalyptus and charcoal.”
The mad man is probably watching me even as we speak.
I resist the urge to turn to the camera in sight and flip him the bird.
"Thanks, Maria." I force my voice to stay level. "I need a while. It’s been a rough morning."
"We understand," she says, leading me toward the dressing rooms. "Do you want some tea? Or something to eat?"
"Just the silence," I say, stepping into the dressing area. The room smells like lavender and money. "And make sure I’m not disturbed, please. Not even by Mikhail."
Maria hesitates. I see the look on her face. Nobody tells Mikhail "no" in this house.
"We will do our best, Madam. But the Master... he usually goes where he wants."
"Tell him I’m meditating," I say. "Tell him if he interrupts, I’m going to blame him for my lost peace of mind. Maybe he’ll stay out."
Maria lets out a small laugh, surprised. "As you wish, Mrs. Morozova."
She leaves, and the door clicks shut. I’m finally alone.
I stand there for a minute, just breathing. The message on the phone is still burning a hole in my pocket, but now that the adrenaline is starting to dip, all the feelings that left me earlier are returning, my body is remembering the pond. It’s remembering the way Mikhail looked at me, remembering the wetness that pooled at my core.
This is not the time…
I start to undress. My movements are jerky. I peel off the tank top, and the cool air hits my damp skin, making my nipples harden instantly. I slide my leggings down, and my fingers brush the scar on my hip.
My mind just goes.
I’m not in the dressing room anymore. I’m back in the bathroom from last night. I can feel the cold marble of the vanity against my ass and the staggering, heavy heat of Mikhail’s body pushed up against mine. I remember the way his eyes dropped to the scar, the heat in them as he spoke.
Fuck…
I close my eyes and lean my head against the wall. I imagine him walking through that door right now. I imagine him seeing me standing here, completely naked, my skin still flushed from the run. He wouldn't say a word. He’d just lock the door and prowl toward me.
I bite down hard on my lips.
I imagine him walking across the room, his feet heavy on the floor. He’d grab me by the waist, his fingers digging into my skin, and lift me onto the dressing bench. I want to feel those rough, calloused palms everywhere. I imagine him backing me into the wall, his chest heaving in sync with mine.
I want him to kiss me. I want it to be violent and desperate, I want it to break me. I imagine his tongue sliding against mine, demanding everything, while his hands move down to my thighs.
My hands slowly start to move down.
I want him to bite my neck, right on that pulse point he was pinning earlier. I want to feel the sharp sting of his teeth followed by the soothing heat of his tongue. And then, I want his hands between my legs.
