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I nod, worrying my lip as I wonder just how big a risk Pyotr is taking. “He’s going after Mikhail,” I state. “Isn’t he?”
Efrem’s jaw clenches, and he nods. Reaching across the table, I grasp his hand and squeeze. “He’s smart. He’ll stay safe.”
“I am glad you are here with me. At least I only have one of you to worry about tonight.” A rueful smile curls his lips as his calloused thumb brushes lightly over my knuckles. “Come. We should stay close to Silvia and Isla.”
Nodding, I rise with Efrem and let him lead me from the dining room. Our bedroom is across the hall from Silvia and Isla’s, who share a room to make it easier for Efrem to protect everyone overnight. Since he’s our only guard, he needs to stay within earshot in case they need him. And their proximity makes the vast, empty mansion feel a little more cozy.
The cold granite floors and lofty ceilings of the main ballroom and dining don’t help, but at least here, in the guest wing, the hallway floors are a rich dark wood, and the grandiose paintings offer a splash of color.
Letting the door click shut behind us, Efrem remains silent as I turn to face him. I can see the toll the last few weeks have taken on him. While I’ve endured a few bruises from Mikhail’s handling and the stress of my brother falling in with such a bad crowd, Efrem has been working around the clock to manage the severe lack of manpower the Veles are suffering. Purple circles make his blue eyes look tired because he’s hardly slept, and it feels like this is the first moment we’ve had alone in days.
But with Val—Pyotr’s other bodyguard—recovering from a bullet to his thigh, Efrem’s been shouldering the important task of keeping his pakhan alive in the middle of a quickly escalating conflict. And he’s had to do it on his own.
I want to give him some relief.
Resting my hands on his chest, I peer up at Efrem’s chiseled face, and my heart pounds faster. His hands find my hips, resting lightly there, and he leans in slowly until our lips meet. Heat radiates through me at the soft, chaste kiss.
Letting my hands travel up his body, I comb my fingers into his blond locks and pull him closer. Leaning against him, I deepen the kiss, stroking my tongue along the seam of his lips. His arms enfold me, the iron strength caging me against his chest as he breathes me in.
Then, all too soon, he releases me.
“What?” I ask, my heart sinking at the ridiculous sense of rejection that washes through me.
Efrem shakes his head. “I need to stay alert, focused. And you, krasivyy tsvetok, are entirely too distracting.”
Warmth pools in my belly, washing away the momentary sting.
“We’re perfectly safe,” I insist. “And you can’t possibly expect yourself to keep maintaining the vigil you’ve been holding for so long. You might be a superhuman, Efrem, but you’re still human.”
Chuckling, he cups my chin and runs his thumb along the line of my jaw, sending a delicious shiver down my spine.
“How about a compromise?” I suggest, my pulse fluttering.
He cocks a proud eyebrow, his lips curling with amusement. “Like what?”
“Let me give you a massage. Then you can relax but stay focused… And I can enjoy touching you.”
Efrem laughs, the deep sound rich and enticing. “I can’t relax when I am in charge of protecting you.”
“Of course, you can. Besides, no one knows we’re here. The conflict is in the city, miles away. We’re safe, and you can’t possibly expect yourself to stay awake and on guard twenty-four, seven. Pyotr knows that and so should you.”
“Well then, how can I refuse such an appealing offer?” he says after a moment. Then he brushes a soft kiss over my lips.
Smiling, I head into the bathroom to pull out the lotion beneath the cabinet. And I come back into the bedroom just in time to watch Efrem pulling his shirt over his head.
“The pants, too,” I insist.
Efrem quirks an eyebrow, and I smile cheekily until he unbuckles them and lets them fall to the ground. I don’t argue when he leaves on his boxers, though I intend for them to come off before I’m done with him.
Then I gesture toward the bed. “Sit,” I instruct, silently admiring the perfection of his body.
I can’t get enough of his gorgeous physique, the sleeves of his tattoos that darken his powerful arms and one side of his muscular chest. While I hope the massage will help ease some of the tension knotting his impressive muscles, I have to admit that this is as much for me as it is for him.
Kneeling on the bed behind him, I take a generous amount of lotion and warm it between my palms before spreading it across his broad shoulders. Excitement builds in my core as I go to work, slowly kneading them as I revel in the sheer strength of his body.
He groans as my fingers find a massive knot and I add pressure, circling over the solid tension until it finally relaxes beneath my touch. The low sound of his appreciation vibrates through my belly, and I bite my lip as my panties moisten. The taut muscles of his back ripple beneath his skin as he reaches behind himself to find my knee. He rests his hand there lightly.
Pressing my thumbs into the long muscles that stretch up the sides of his spine, I slowly make my way up his body, mesmerized by the way they bunch and soften beneath my hands. Like working to undo a tangled length of chord that’s formed a twisted bundle, I take my time, finding each ball of tension beneath his soft flesh and working at it until the knot releases.
