He steps farther into the room, so I grab a plate and serve him some of the food. When I turn around he’s standing right behind me. I have to look up at him. His inscrutable dark eyes are locked on me.
“Sorry, there’s only one piece of bacon left. I’m shocked there’s even that,” I say, a little more breathily than I mean to.
I feel a tug on the plate, and I let go, knowing he grabbed it. I don’t look down to see because our eyes remain locked.
“I would eat anything you served me,” he says simply, and I feel myself blush.
The thought of other things he could eat enters my mind, and I have to turn around. I don’t want to get caught thinking of such a dirty image, because I feel like he can read it all over my face. Oh. My. God. Something is wrong with me.
I start cleaning up the kitchen, trying to distract myself with something, anything. As I grab a plate in the sink, he reaches out, taking it from my hand.
“You cooked for me, I will clean for you.”
I should probably tell him that we have someone who comes in and does this for us. I was only doing it because I was trying to stay busy in an effort to not make a fool of myself.
“Perhaps you should get dressed.”
His eyes travel down my body, and embarrassment floods me. It’s then I realize I’m in sleep shorts that are more like underwear and a Harry Potter shirt that says I’m up to no good. It’s so faded it’s almost see-through. At one time it belonged to my mom, but I love it so much because I remember her reading the books to Pandora and me when we were little. She wore it all the time until I stole it about five years ago.
“Okay,” I whisper, and then I actually do something my guard told me to do. I turn to leave, but he grabs my wrist. I stop short and stand there, with him holding on to me. I look into his dark eyes, and I’m unable to move. There’s so much there that I can’t read, but I recognize one thing for sure.
“Are you up to no good, krasotu?” The low words rumble from his chest, and they vibrate through me.
I lick my lips, wondering what that word means. I’m surprised by his question. There’s an edge of danger in it, and it doesn’t feel like he’s only asking as a concerned guard looking out for me.
“I guess you’ll have to find out for yourself,” I whisper before pulling my arm from him and leaving the room.
I feel his eyes on my back the whole time, and I remember what I saw there. It was like nothing I’d ever seen before, and I want it again. No man has ever looked at me like that before.
With pure desire.
Chapter Four
Ivan
This was a mistake.
I can feel the burn of my palm where I touched her soft skin. The way I reached out and grabbed her was unlike me. I try not to touch people if possible, and there I was, holding on to her delicate wrist and trying to make her stay. She’s having an effect on me like nothing I’ve experienced, and I don’t know if I can handle it but I want it like nothing I’ve ever wanted before.
She sits beside me silently as I drive her to school. It’s only the two of us, and the space feels somehow intimate. I want to hear her talk again. Her voice does something to me. It’s like a balm on my soul. I don’t care if she just reads the dictionary. I want to hear her voice.
“How do you know my parents? I’ve never seen you before.”
The question breaks the peace slinging though me, and though I have a need to not lie to her, I don’t know how much of the truth I’m willing to tell her. I pause for a moment to think of a way to phrase my answer, but she takes this to mean that I won’t answer.
“Fine. Forget I asked.” She looks out the window, and I can see hurt in her reflection on the glass.
“Net. No.” I hurriedly switch from Russian to English. “I’m trying to think of a way to tell you without revealing what is confidential,” I admit, only wanting to give her the truth. Lying to such a pure soul seems wrong.
“Oh,” she says, turning to look at me. “You don’t have to if you can’t. I was just curious. You’re different to all their other...choices.”
I think about the other guards she’s been around, and I tighten my grip on the steering wheel. I don’t like the thought of her being seen so much, and by men who could overpower her. Maybe I should look into the past men. I don’t see how they could have let her out of their sight so easily.
“I helped them with overseas contracts. I was an informant,” I finally tell her.
“And you’re not anymore?” she asks.
“I’m here to protect you.” Something about those words makes pride fill my chest. As if this is the job I’ve been training my whole life for. I’ve run with dirty criminals to learn how to read them. I’ve been made into a weapon to protect this perfect creature I’m sure everyone wants, and only I can keep them all at bay. It’s my life’s goal and I will not fail in this. She needs my protection. She needs me. Even if it’s a lie, the thought fills me with pride, my past not seeming so dirty because I’ve been training for this. For her.