Chapter 18 Konstantin
KONSTANTIN
Her mouth is soft and warm, and for a second my brain goes blank. Ivy makes a small sound against my lips and my hands tighten at her jaw like they’ve been waiting their whole life to learn that shape.
If she tensed, I’d stop. If she pushed, I’d be ten feet back and apologizing.
She doesn’t. She presses into me, her arms sliding around my neck.
Her fingers tangle in my hair, pulling me even closer, so close that not even the cold air can get between our heated bodies.
The world narrows to breath and heat and the steady beat of her heart against my chest.
I angle her face with my thumbs and take the kiss deeper. She answers without hesitation. No fear. No flinch. Just want and acceptance.
Snow ticks against my coat. The creek moves under the ice. But all that is just a backdrop to the incredible kiss we share.
“Ivy,” I groan.
“Yes,” she responds on a husky breath. I drop my hands to her lower back, pulling her tightly against my chest. My breathing is ragged and my heart gallops in my chest. My dick throbs insistently against my pants, against her belly.
I pull back an inch to see her face. She opens her eyes slowly, and I feel like a drowning man whose only salvation rests in those blue eyes. I have to taste her again.
Headlights slash through the trees and catch us full in the clearing, stopping our kiss just a breath before our lips meet.
I step in front of Ivy and angle my body to block her from view.
The lights sweep past, spill over tree trunks and brush, then jerk away as the vehicle turns at the fork below the ridge.
Viktor is making a sweep, making sure we are okay.
I want to shoot him for the interruption even though logically, I know he’s doing his job. He’s protecting the family and its boss, and now his boss’s fiancée.
Her breath shivers across the back of my hand and I shudder inwardly. How could such an innocent thing, a breath on my skin, make me want to forget everything and claim her mouth again?
“Let’s get back to the estate.” My voice comes out rougher than I intend.
She flinches like the words strike her, then strides ahead without a glance. Pine needles and ice crackle under her shoes. I follow at a distance, matching her pace, forcing myself to keep my emotions in check.
By the time we reach the terrace steps, a dark SUV idles in the drive. Maksim leans out the window when he sees us.
“We’re fine,” I say. “But we need to talk later. Vadim’s men, or a hitman, tried to abduct Ivy.”
Ivy stops in the entry hall and turns, fury already lit in her eyes. She doesn’t shout. It would almost be easier if she did.
“You don’t get to do that,” she says. “Kiss me and then march me back like some—some problem to contain.”
I hold her stare. “I marched you back because we were too exposed out there.”
“You marched me back because you can,” she fires back. “Because you’ve decided I’m yours to move around.”
“You are alive because I do,” I say, and this time the words are too sharp. I hear it and hate it, but I don’t take them back.
Her chin lifts. “Alive? This is your idea of alive? Locked doors. Men at corners. No phone, no job, no classes, no friends.” She draws a deep breath and lowers her voice. “And then you kiss me like…”
When she trails off, I push. “Like?”
Her face floods with heat and she turns her head, not looking at me.
“Your life as you knew it is gone,” I tell her simply.
Final. Because she deserves the truth and needs to understand just how serious this is.
I’m really starting to get tired of this argument, tired of Ivy making me out to be the bad guy.
Oh, I’m bad, but not in this case. For her, I’m trying to save her life.
She turns and walks and I follow. We pass the library, the dim wall lamps giving a soft glow to light our way.
I keep my hands at my sides because I don’t trust myself not to haul her into my arms again.
Not to take more than just a kiss. She pushes open her bedroom door when we reach it and storms inside.
I follow and close it behind us to spare both of us an audience.
She rounds on me. “Tell me how this works, then. Tell me what ‘protection’ means. Do I ever leave? Do I see my friends? Do I go back to class? Or do I turn into some ghost who only breathes when you give the order?”
The flatscreen TV on the wall reflects our silhouettes. “You can’t go back to Otrava,” I say, referring to the club where she worked. “If you step into your old life, Vadim will cut you out of it within a day.”
“But what if I don’t want to give up my old life?” Her words are like a cry, a plea, and my heart actually aches for her. At least I know I still have one.
“If there were another way, Ivy, I would make it happen.” My words are strong, a promise.
It’s as if someone sticks a pin in her. Her whole body seems to deflate before my eyes.
Her slender shoulders sag and her expression falls.
She sits abruptly on the side of the bed, her head bowed.
Blonde hair obscures my vision of her face, but that’s probably a good thing.
I don’t want to see the defeated look in her blue eyes.
“I’m only twenty-six,” she says, then slowly looks up and pins me with sad eyes.
“I had plans. Work at the club, take night classes online to get my teaching degree, and live a normal life. It may not seem like much to someone like you who has so much.” She pauses to sweep her arms out to encompass the elegant bedroom, implying the rest of the estate as well.
“But they were mine, and I was looking forward to a nice, normal life.”
I move toward the fireplace and grab the poker to stir the coals. “Life plans get derailed all the time,” I say with my back to her. Then I turn and meet her gaze. “Plans can be remade, but at least you’re alive.”
The words sound colder out loud than they did in my head. I set the poker back in its stand and face her fully.
“I should be grateful,” Ivy says, gripping her hands tightly together in her lap. “I know that. This isn’t your fault, yet I’m treating you like it is.”
“It’s understandable—”
“No, it’s not,” she interrupts. “You and your guys are putting your lives on the line for me. You’re interrupting your lives to protect mine.” She blinks and lowers her chin slightly. “And here I am, acting childish and ungrateful.”
“Your entire life changed in a single ill-fated moment,” I remind her gently.
“Since that night, you’ve been in hiding, been shot at, and then I take you from FBI custody, telling you the only way to save your life is to marry me.
You’re not being selfish or ungrateful at all.
You’re being human reacting to impossible circumstances. ”
A wry smile curves her full mouth. “Nice of you to say, but I still feel guilty. And angry. And terrified.”
I don’t know how to respond to that, so I say nothing while she gathers her thoughts.
A log pops in the fireplace and seems to echo in the bedroom.
Ivy startles and jerks and winces. She probably thinks someone took a shot at her.
Not an unreasonable assumption considering who was so-called protecting her before, but she’s here, under my roof, where she’s safe.
My property has top-notch security plus armed guards watching the whole estate.
Ivy just hasn’t realized she’s safe here, yet.
A nervous laugh escapes her. “God, will I ever be able to just relax? Will the rest of my life be spent looking over my shoulder and jumping at every little sound?”
I don’t lie to her. “For a while.” She winces and looks down at her hands in her lap. “Once the bastard is either behind bars or six feet under, then your life will be somewhat normal.”
She raises her head to look at me. “Then you shouldn’t have to make a lifetime commitment and marry me. We can simply wait until I testify and he goes to prison.”
I raise an eyebrow at her stubbornness to grasp the situation. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. You won’t live to testify if Vadim has his way. Taking my name is the best way to protect you.”
She frowns and I can see the realization in her eyes. She knows this but isn’t ready to accept it yet. I wonder if she ever will be.
“You can’t trust the FBI, Ivy.” My voice is strong, hard. “Viktor told me he’s found another hitman, and the guy is FBI.”