4. Svetlana
Chapter 4
Svetlana
I stare at the text Vitya left me, reading it again and again and getting a little more pissed each time I do.
Vitya:
I’m not feeling well, Sveta. I need you to stay inside today.
Vitya has been watching me every single day for over two years, and he’s never once asked for a day off for any reason. He never gets sick, and he always shows up on time. Something is wrong, and I don’t like it.
Me:
A hangover doesn’t count. Get your ass up here, Vitya.
Vitya:
I’m not hungover, and you’re one to talk. How’s your head doing today? I’m sick, and I don’t want you to catch it. Sveta, please just keep your ass inside for one goddamn day. I swear you can punish me with a long mall trip tomorrow.
I roll my eyes at his dramatics and type my response.
Me:
You’re never sick, and you went out last night. You expect me to believe that’s not connected? Getting drunk and fucking all night doesn’t mean you’re sick. At least be honest with me. And my head is fine, by the way.
Vitya:
Neither one of those things happened last night. Just stay inside. If I’m feeling better, then I’ll be there in the morning.
I shove my phone in my pocket, too angry to text back right now. It doesn’t stop me from going over everything he said in my mind, though. There’s no way that this is all a coincidence. Vitya and I have a routine, we’ve had one for two goddamn years, and he’s deviating from it. There has to be a reason, and there’s no way in hell it’s because he’s suddenly come down with the flu.
While I think about it, I swallow a couple more aspirin. My head is killing me, but I’m not about to admit that to him.
I’m alone in the apartment. My brother is no longer here to distract me with ‘80s movies and Chinese food, and the thought of having another drink makes me feel like I’m going to lose the piece of toast I’d forced down earlier. I pace the floor and manage to keep my ass where it’s supposed to be for a solid twenty minutes, and I’m pretty damn proud of myself for that. Knowing he’s going to be furious but not caring enough to alter my plan, I grab a can of chicken noodle soup and head for the elevator. My heart races as I descend to the floor below. Forcing the elevator to stop, I take a deep breath and step off, grateful that it’s empty. I hustle my ass to his room and knock on the door.
Too nervous to stand still, I fidget in the hall. When he doesn’t answer, I raise my hand to knock again, but he whips it open before I get a chance to. I take one look at his exhausted face and suddenly feel like a giant ass, because he looks like he’s come down with something. He’s still the sexiest man I’ve ever seen, but there’s no denying he’s a little rumpled and not quite as shiny perfect as he usually is.
The furious look he’s giving me has me taking a step back. I hold out the can of soup to him in a sad attempt at making it seem like I actually had a legitimate reason to sneak out and disobey his orders.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
His words are a whispered hiss, and I’ve never seen him so angry.
“I thought you might need some soup,” I tell him, but the look he gives me makes it clear he isn’t buying my bullshit.
“I can’t believe you left the apartment on your own.”
“Just to come check on you,” I quickly say. “No one was in the hallway. I was perfectly safe.”
He scrubs a hand over the jaw that clearly hasn’t been shaved today and lets out a heavy sigh. I’m all set to keep feeling guilty when I see the quick look he gives behind him. My entire body goes cold, because he’s hiding something or, more accurately, someone .
“Do you have someone here?” It’s my turn to sound pissed, and when he refuses to meet my eyes, I lose it. “You asshole! You skipped work because you brought some woman home last night?”
My heart fucking breaks at the thought, but I bite back the tears, focusing on the rage instead. When I meet his eyes, I know he can see the pain and anger in mine.
“It’s not like that,” he says, but he’s still blocking the damn door.
“Fucking prove it,” I growl at him, tightening my grip on the can of soup so I don’t do something stupid like throw it at his annoyingly beautiful face.
“I don’t have to prove anything. You need to march your ass back to the elevator and go to your apartment. Text me when you get there so I know you made it, and then stay there, Sveta. For once, just fucking listen to me.”
“How could you?” I whisper the question before I can think better of it, and the hurt look on his face surprises me. “Is it because of what I did last night? I know I made an ass of myself and crossed the line, but it was just one stupid mistake.”
Before he can respond, I hear a sound that sucks the breath right from my lungs. Instead of the feminine voice I’m expecting, it’s the unmistakeable sound of a baby crying.
My eyes widen as my world feels like it’s spinning out of control. “You have a baby?”
He groans and grabs my arm, pulling me inside and shutting the door before turning his back on me and walking towards the living room. I’ve never been inside his place before, and I can’t help but gawk a bit. It’s pretty much how I imagined it—big, comfy-looking couch, large screen TV, masculine, dark shades of blue and grey, but the thing I wasn’t expecting is the explosion of baby things littering just about every corner of the living room. I’m still staring at the car seat and stack of pink baby clothes and blankets when Vitya walks over to the playpen and picks up a very small baby and holds her against his chest like he’s been doing it for years. His large hand cups her small head, making sure she’s secure as he turns to face me. I’m not even sure he’s aware that he’s lightly bouncing from side to side in an effort to soothe the crying baby, because he’s too focused on being pissed at me.
“We had a deal,” he says, and I bark out a laugh, because the last thing on my mind right now is my promise to stay in the apartment above him.
“You have a baby, Vitya.” I wave a hand at the pink bundle in his arms, watching as he gives her a pacifier. A violent stab of jealousy runs through me, hitting me at my core. I hate that he’s been with other women, and I hate that one of them gave him a baby. It makes me feel sick, and when the soup can falls from my fingers, I sit down on the chair behind me before I fall on my ass.
He sighs and walks over to me. “I need you to hold her. ”
“Huh?” I look up at him, trying to get my brain to work, but I’m still so stunned by this strange turn of events and his words don’t register.
“I need you to hold her while I make her a bottle.” He hands her over to me, and my arms immediately wrap around the tiny bundle. He runs a finger through her silky hair before heading into the kitchen.
I look down at the baby, and there’s no denying she’s adorable. Her light brown eyes look up at me as she sucks on her pacifier. She doesn’t have Vitya’s blue eyes, and her hair is a lighter shade than his, so it’s hard for me to see him in her, but she’s beautiful, just like her daddy, even if they don’t have all the same features. She’s in a cute pink sleeper with little colorful llamas decorating it, and when she flails an arm out, I drag my thumb over her tiny fingers, smiling when she opens her hand and clutches onto me. She’s very small, tinier than I ever remember Isabella or Roma being. She lacks the healthy plumpness that they both had, and I can’t figure out how old she is.
When Vitya comes back with a bottle in hand, I look up at him, still unable to believe he has a baby.
“She’s beautiful, Vitya,” I say, hating how weak and heartbroken my voice sounds.
“She’s not mine, Sveta.” He sounds exhausted as he holds the bottle out for me to take. “I found her.”
I grab the bottle and pull her pacifier out before she latches onto the nipple with a ravenous hunger and starts greedily sucking away.
“You found her?”
He sits down on the couch opposite me and rubs his eyes, clearly exhausted and now I know why. He wasn’t having a wild night of sex like I’d feared. He was up all night taking care of an innocent little baby he’d somehow found.
“I sometimes do extra jobs for your family,” he finally says. “Usually I’m busy watching you, but every few months, I’ll have a night off and I’ll ask if I can do anything. The other night they needed my help, and then last night I finished that job up.” He waves a hand at the very hungry baby in my arms. “I found her at the house I was at. ”
I raise a brow at him. “That’s seriously all you’re going to tell me? What job? What house? What the hell were you doing?”
“You know I can’t tell you.”
“Where are her parents?”
“Her mom was already dead. I’m guessing her dad was one of the men we took out.” He leans forward, resting his forearms on his knees and lightly clasping his hands as he keeps his eyes on mine. “She looked like she was half-dead when I found her, so dehydrated she couldn’t even cry.” He sighs and shakes his head. “I couldn’t leave her there, and I didn’t know what to do, so I brought her back here.”
“Why didn’t you just tell my dad and uncles? They would never hurt a baby, Vitya, you know that.”
“No, they wouldn’t,” he agrees, “but what would happen to her?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “I’m guessing maybe she’d be dropped off at a hospital or fire station, some place where she’d be found immediately and taken care of.”
“She’d be put in the foster system. I’ve heard enough horror stories to know there’s no way in hell I can leave her to that fate.”
“And if you keep her?” I ask, unsure if that’s actually what he’s seriously considering.
His blue eyes stay locked on mine when he says, “Then I wouldn’t be able to keep watching you, and that’s also not an option.”
I’m not sure what I’m seeing in Vitya’s eyes, too many emotions for me to pick through, but I swear one of them is a deep longing that I feel in my bones. The little baby in my arms lets out a frustrated grunt when she realizes her bottle is empty, the noise breaking whatever moment Vitya and I were just sharing.
“You need to burp her,” he tells me, and when I continue to give him a blank stare, he says, “You’re around Roma and Isabella all the time, Sveta, surely you know how to burp a baby.”
“Yeah, but I don’t babysit. They both know not to trust me with that kind of responsibility. I hold my niece and nephew, I play and cuddle with them, and I love them to pieces, but I don’t actually take care of them. I don’t do the gross stuff. ”
“Well you’re gonna learn,” he tells me like I’ve just agreed to co-parent the infant in my arms. Getting up, he grabs a cloth and walks over to us. Squatting down so we’re eye-level, he puts the cloth on my shoulder and then says, “Lift her up so her chest is against yours and her head is by your shoulder.”
“Why do I have a cloth?”
“In case she throws up.”
“Eww, Vitya.”
I see the faintest hint of a smile at the corner of his gorgeous lips before he hides it and says, “That’s not the end you need to be worried about.”
When my eyes widen, he’s unable to hide the next smile as quickly, and I get a glimpse of what he would look like with a full smile on his face. It’s heart-stopping in the very best way.
“Lift her up, Sveta,” he reminds me, “and pat her back until she burps.”
I get her into position and start gently patting her back. She rests her cheek on my shoulder and lets out a soft sigh.
“How do you know what to do?” I ask him. “Do you have kids?” I feel silly asking, like this is something I should most definitely already know about him, but I’d just assumed he would’ve told me if he did.
“No, I don’t have kids.”
I can’t help but feel a wave of relief at his words.
“I’ve just been watching a shit-ton of YouTube videos.”
“You can’t cuss in front of her,” I tell him. “Babies are sponges. They pick up everything.”
He reaches out and runs a finger over her soft head. “For her sake, I really hope you’re wrong. I hope she doesn’t remember a single thing about her life so far.”
“I hope she remembers you,” I tell him, the words coming out before I can stop them. Biting my tongue has never been a strength of mine.
His face softens, and he looks like he’s about to say something, but a loud burp beats him to it .
“Dang, girl,” I tell her while cupping her butt in my hand and keeping her held against me. I realize my mistake when a small explosion vibrates against my hand. “What the…” I start to say, but Vitya just laughs and stands back up.
“Your turn,” he tells me.
“Vitya, don’t you dare.” When he doesn’t seem deterred, I ask, “Would it help if I say I’m still feeling a bit nauseated from last night?”
The corner of his beautiful mouth lifts in a small smirk. “No. Maybe it’ll keep your underage ass from drinking again.”
Before I can keep arguing, he lays some sort of diaper changing mat on the floor in front of me and tosses down a diaper, a tube of cream, and a container of baby wipes.
“Make sure you really slather that all over her. They left her in her own urine, and she has a really bad rash.”
My heart drops at his words right as a sharp flash of anger hits me. I can’t imagine hurting a child. The tiny little thing in my arms is completely defenseless. I wouldn’t treat an animal like that, let alone a baby.
I lower her onto the mat and look up at him. “I don’t know what to do. Maybe you should take this one, and I’ll watch and learn.”
He huffs out a breath. “Nice try. Take her sleeper off, because it’s gonna be messy.”
“I don’t like the sound of that,” I say while unbuttoning her cute little outfit. I slip it off her and then quickly pull my shirt up over my mouth and nose. “Oh my god,” I whisper. “How can it possibly smell so bad?”
“I’ve been pondering that one all night.” He sits back on the couch and clasps his hands together behind his head as he stretches his long legs out. “Better get a wipe ready. As soon as you open that thing, you’re gonna need it.”
He’s not lying. I undo the diaper and dry heave while he lets out another laugh from the safety of the sidelines.
“How can there be so much?” I whisper through the shirt that’s still hanging over my nose .
“Better hurry,” Vitya warns me. “She’ll get antsy soon.”
A wiggling baby is the last thing I need right now, so I brace myself and get to work. It’s hands down the grossest thing I’ve ever done, and I’m only about halfway finished when she starts getting fussy. Vitya hears her whimper and immediately reaches for her pacifier, an automatic response that he doesn’t even have to think about. I shouldn’t be surprised. He’s a very observant guy. He always seems to know what I need before I even know it myself. She latches onto the pacifier, giving me a few precious minutes to finish up what I’m doing.
“She needs a name,” I tell him. “We can’t just keep calling her the baby .”
He’s still right next to me, brushing a thumb over her soft cheek. “Maybe it’s best if we don’t.”
I grab the diaper cream and look over at him. “I think we’re past that stage, don’t you?”
“What stage?”
“The if I name it, then I’ll just get attached stage.”
He knows I’m right. He’s already attached. Hell, I just got here, and I’m attached. It’s impossible not to be.
“You choose. What do you want to name her, Sveta?”
I try not to think about how close he is, but even though I’m doing the most unromantic thing on the planet right now, it’s still Vitya, and the man gets me worked up no matter what we’re doing or where we’re at. Putting my focus back on the diaper cream, I slather it on her and think about names, but suddenly one pops in my head.
“Samantha,” I tell him, securing the fresh diaper and grabbing her sleeper.
“As in Molly Ringwald’s character in Sixteen Candles ?”
I let out a surprised laugh. “How did you remember that?”
“It’s one of your favorite movies,” he says like it would be weird if he didn’t know that bit of information about me, and then he adds, “Molly Ringwald makes everything better, right?,” proving that he may know me better than I know myself.
“She does,” I whisper back .
He looks at the baby, who’s watching the two of us with an intense stare, and strokes her cheek again.
“What do you think, little one? You like the name Samantha?”
She flings an arm out, making him smile.
“I’m going to take that as a yes,” he tells me.
I throw away the offending diaper and scrub my hands clean while he gets her back into her sleeper, and when I walk back into the living room, he’s already putting her into a little reclining seat that has a row of soft toys attached. He buckles her in and then presses a button that makes it softly vibrate.
Looking around his apartment, I take in all the supplies, noticing that many of them are still in their boxes.
“Did you just spend the night shopping online and changing dirty diapers?”
He sits back on the floor with his back leaning against the couch. “Pretty much, yeah. I didn’t know what else to do. I still don’t know what to do.”
“I’ll help you,” I tell him. “You know that, right?”
He scrubs a hand over his face and groans. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to get involved in this.” Arching a dark brow at me, he adds, “You just couldn’t keep your ass upstairs for one day, could you?”
The cuss word has me darting my eyes to Samantha, but she’s already asleep, looking peaceful and perfectly content now that she’s eaten and had her diaper changed.
“Would one day have really changed anything?”
“No,” he admits. “I was planning on being sick with the flu all week.”
I laugh at that. “I think we both know I would’ve found my way down here eventually.”
“Only because you’re so sweet that you wanted to make sure I had soup to eat.”
We both know my excuse was flimsy at best. Bringing soup over is more of a Natalya or Yelena thing. It’s not that I’m uncaring. It’s more that I’m just sort of clueless about domestic things, and taking care of someone who’s sick doesn’t come naturally to me.
“Just so we’re clear,” I tell him, “had you actually been sick, I would’ve figured out how to make the soup for you.”
“I’ll remember that.”
I look over and watch him. He looks exhausted, and maybe I was wrong about my nursemaid abilities, because all I want to do is take care of him.
“Lay down and take a nap, Vitya.”
His eyes have already fallen closed, and when he opens them to look at me, I can tell he’s tempted to take me up on my offer.
“I’ll make sure she’s okay,” I tell him, “and you’re going to be useless tonight if you don’t get some sleep now while you can.”
He groans at the thought of another sleepless night. “Fine,” he relents, getting up and lying down on the couch. Before he closes his eyes, he looks over at me. “Swear to me you won’t leave.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Vitya. Go to sleep.”
It’s a testament to how tired he is that he stops arguing and rolls onto his side so he’s facing me. His eyes are already closed, and within minutes I can tell he’s asleep. I watch him for several minutes, noticing the way his face softens. His brows are no longer furrowed, the line of his jaw seems less tense, and his shoulders are more relaxed. He looks peaceful, and that’s not a look he usually wears.
When I’m sure he and Samantha are both in a deep sleep, I get up and walk over to him. There’s a blanket draped over the end that I cover him with. He doesn’t move, letting me know he’s completely knocked out, and the temptation to touch him is strong. I manage to resist running my fingers over his gorgeous face, but I can’t put off my curiosity about the man who’s been watching over me.
I’m only human, and the urge to snoop is way too strong. If he were awake, I think he’d be proud of my restraint so far.
Leaving them both to sleep, I glance around the living room, but there isn’t anything here beyond the typical furniture you’d expect and a bunch of baby stuff. This isn’t going to tell me anything, so I walk towards the kitchen, figuring I’ll start there and then work my way to the other rooms.
The kitchen is just as gorgeous as the rest of the apartment with pretty dark blue cabinets, a granite countertop, and stainless steel appliances. The island is covered in a mess of baby bottles and packages of ready-to-eat formula, but the rest of the room is spotless. I wonder if the clutter is driving him crazy. He’s probably too tired to notice it much now, but it’ll eventually start to grate on his nerves.
Without a shred of guilt, I walk over and open his fridge. A quick scan of the contents reaffirms what I already know about Vitya. He’s a health nut and a clean freak. Every single item is in its proper place, organic, and there’s not a sweet treat to be found. Quietly shutting the fridge, I check the pantry next, not at all surprised to find more of the same. The only difference is that amidst all the organic granola bars and cans of vegetables, there’s one shelf that’s very different from all the others. There are boxes of fruit snacks, a box of cupcakes, and several bags of blueberry muffins—all my favorite things. I grab a fruit snack and leave the kitchen.
While I eat, I make my way down the hall, passing a bathroom that looks pristine, whether that’s because it’s rarely used or because Vitya is just that on top of his cleaning, I have no idea, and then I walk by a spare room that’s being used as a home gym. I keep going. I don’t want Vitya to wake until after I’ve had a look at his room.
The last door on the right is open, and when I look in at the king-sized bed, I know I’ve found it. I know this might be considered invasive, but I’ve always been too nosy for my own good, and there was no way in hell I was ever going to be able to resist this temptation. I pop the last fruit snack in my mouth and step into the room. My feet sink into the plush carpet, and I nearly moan at the familiar scent that fills the space. Vitya always smells so damn good. It’s a masculine, earthy, citrus scent with a touch of leather, and it makes me want to rub up against him every time I smell it.
Unable to resist, I step closer to his bed and lower my face to his pillow, inhaling the scent like I’m trying to drown in it. My face heats up at the thought of him catching me like this, but I still take one more sniff before I force myself to take a step back. There’s a military sci-fi novel on the nightstand and a framed photo. I grab it, so surprised by the image that I sit down on the edge of the bed so I can study it better. It’s Vitya, but a happy Vitya, a smiling from ear-to-ear Vitya, and the sight is just as breathtaking as I knew it would be. He looks younger, and he has his arm around a much younger guy who looks so much like him that it has to be a younger brother. Before I can think better of it, I pull my phone out and take a picture of it, wanting to try and draw this smiling Vitya so I can look at it whenever I want.
His neck is bare in the photo, so whenever this was taken, it was before he got the dragon tattoo that I love so much. He’s also so carefree, not at all like he is now, looking every bit like the weight of the world is on his shoulders. I reluctantly put the photo back in its place and stand up so I can keep looking. The urge to snoop through his drawers is strong, but I feel like that might be crossing a line, so I ignore the pull and instead walk into the large, attached bathroom.
“Damn,” I whisper, running my eyes over the huge walk-in shower. An image of a naked Vitya scrubbing his body under the large rain shower head immediately hits me. I force my mind away from the tempting image and look around the room. There’s a tub in the corner and double sinks with a large counter and plenty of drawers that I keep my itchy fingers out of. I’m grabbing one of those cupcakes from the pantry on my way out of here, because I definitely deserve one for the restraint I’m showing.
I may keep my hands out of the drawers, but I do pick up his bottle of cologne and give it a good whiff. I wish I could spray some on my shirt so I can take it with me, but there’s no way to do that without him noticing, and I’d rather spare myself that embarrassing confrontation.
Before I leave his room, I take a quick peek in his walk-in closet, smiling when I see how neat it is. Mine looks like a mini tornado went through it, but his is perfectly ordered, and everything is in its place. He even has his shoes lined up in a nice row. God, he’s the sexiest dork to ever walk the planet .
With a sigh, I shut the door and get my ass out of the room that I probably shouldn’t have ever stepped foot into. But, honestly, he had to have known I was going to snoop. He knows me well enough to know the temptation would’ve been impossible for me to resist, so it’s kind of on him for falling asleep and leaving me to it.
On my way back into the living room, I grab a cupcake and a bottle of one of his fruity teas from the fridge. I’m guessing he won’t mind. I take them both out to the living room where Samantha and Vitya are still both fast asleep, both of them looking adorable, and I can’t help but take a few quick photos. I wish I had my sketchbook so I can draw them, but drawing was the last thing on my mind when I’d left my apartment this morning.
Without my pencils to occupy my mind, I focus instead on trying to come up with a plan. Watching Samantha gently suck on her pacifier while she sleeps in her cute little llama sleeper makes it perfectly clear that I’m with Vitya. I can’t imagine just leaving her at a hospital. The thought of strangers taking care of her doesn’t sit well with me. I know I’ve just met her, but the feeling is strong nonetheless, and I’m not going to just ignore it.
By the time she starts to stir, I have a flimsy plan in place that might, if we’re really lucky, buy us some time. Knowing Vitya needs more sleep than just a couple of hours, I quickly scoop Samantha up before she can start screaming. I may not be a pro at the gross stuff yet, but I know how to hold and comfort a baby, at least for a little bit. Usually I just pass the crying baby back to Natalya or Lara, but I think I can probably manage things on my own for now.
The little baby in my arms is surprisingly laid-back for all that she’s been through, but I quickly learn that she turns downright feral when she’s hungry. I see her cute face turn red and her lips turn down, and when her brown eyes start to fill with tears, I know I need to move my ass before she lets loose and wakes Vitya up.
“Don’t cry,” I whisper, begging her to hang on for just a second. I follow Vitya’s lead and speak to her in Russian. I doubt she would understand anything I say right now, no matter what language I’m speaking, but I think she understands the sentiment because she reins in it and gives her pacifier a greedy suck. I know it’s a short reprieve, and speed walk my ass to the kitchen to get her next bottle. I keep lightly bouncing her in my arms while I grab a clean nipple and pop it onto one of the bottles of formula. I swear her little eyes light up when I pull her pacifier away and replace it with the bottle.
“You are too cute,” I whisper as she eats like she’ll never be able to get enough. I hate that she knows what it’s like to feel pain and fear. She should’ve been loved and cared for from the second she took her first breath, and I’m glad that Vitya helped kill the bastards who were responsible for her neglect.
She watches me as she empties her bottle, and when it’s all gone, I do what Vitya taught me and burp her. I’m feeling pretty damn good about things, but she knocks the wind right out of my sails when the explosive sounds of her filling her diaper echo around me.
“Really, Samantha?”
The look she gives me makes it clear she doesn’t feel even remotely guilty about the mess she’s made for me to clean up.
“You couldn’t have waited until after I left?”
She sighs, and I resign myself to another dirty diaper experience. Being as quiet as I can, I bring her back into the living room and get to work. A few minutes later, she’s clean, I feel queasy, and Vitya is still in a heavy sleep.
“We did it,” I whisper, holding her little hand up so I can give it a high five. She quickly tries to grip my fingers instead. “We’ll work on that later.”
While she plays with my fingers, I reach over and grab some of the soft toys that Vitya ordered. He must’ve just thrown every single thing that caught his eye into the cart, because his living room floor is littered with boxes. Some haven’t even been opened yet. I spend the next couple of hours entertaining Samantha until she starts to drift off to sleep again. Knowing I need to get back upstairs before my mom gets back from the lunch she was going to with all my aunts, I walk over to the couch. Vitya is still in a deep sleep, looking so beautiful it’s impossible for me to not reach out and touch him. I brush a dark strand of hair off his forehead, letting my fingers graze his skin in the lightest of touches, but even though the contact is minuscule, it still has him grabbing my wrist in a punishing grip as his eyes fly open.
“Goddamn, Vitya,” I whisper-shout at him. “That hurts!”
It takes him a second to orient himself, and when he does, he lets out a familiar, infuriating grunt and lets go of my wrist.
“I think we’re past your grunting stage,” I tell him. He raises a brow at me before scrubbing a hand over his face in an effort to fully wake up. His eyes scan the room, quickly looking around until he spots Samantha’s sleeping form in the playpen.
“Yeah, that’s right,” I tell him. “I babysat. I fed her and then changed another one of her stinky, very full diapers, and then I kept her happy and entertained so that you could get some sleep. So you’re welcome, and you can stop being an ass to me now.”
“I’m not being an ass.”
“You sure about that?” I straighten back up and hike a hand on my hip. “No more grunting at me, no more one-word answers, and no more acting like a cold dick.”
“A cold dick?” he asks in a tone that makes it clear he doesn’t care for my word choice.
“Yes. A cold dick. We’ve moved beyond that, Vitya. Keep up.” Before he can ruin the moment by disagreeing with me, I say, “I need to get back upstairs. I can sneak up without you, but I think I’ve come up with a plan.”
“Sveta,” he starts to say, but I cut him off.
“I’m going to tell them that I think you’ve given me your nasty cold and that I want to go to the farmhouse for a while. No one else is there right now. We can hide out there for the time being.”
“And then?” He sits up and runs a hand through his perfectly disheveled hair. The brief touch I had earlier confirmed that it is in fact as soft as it looks. Knowing that information is its own kind of torture.
“And then I don’t know,” I admit, “but it’s a hell of lot better than hiding out down here. ”
He knows I’m right, so he doesn’t try and argue that particular point. He does immediately try to shoot holes in my plan, though.
“Your dad will never buy it,” he warns. “And the likelihood that no one else is going to come by to check on you is slim to none.”
“Let me worry about that. It’ll at least buy us a few days to try and come up with something better.”
“There are security cameras in the private elevator, Sveta. They’re going to see you riding it alone.”
“I’ve already thought of that. My dad won’t check anything unless there’s a reason to, but just to be safe, I’m going to text Niki and have him scrub the footage for today and tomorrow when we leave.”
He nods, knowing my cousin Nikita can easily accomplish it so there isn’t any damning evidence of me daring to ride the elevator alone. I also know he’ll keep it a secret if I ask him to.
“I have to go,” I tell him again. “I’ll text you later after I’ve talked to my dad.”
When I start to walk off, he reaches a hand out to grab my wrist, this time the grip is softer, and instead of wincing, I’m forced to bite back a soft groan at the feel of his skin against mine.
“Wait, I’ll walk you to the elevator.”
“You don’t have to do that. I’ll be fine.”
“Sveta, I’m already failing my duty right now, and it fucking kills me, so the very least I can do is walk you to the damn elevator so I know you’re safe.”
Realizing he’s still holding my wrist, he lets me go, but his thumb grazes my skin before he drops his hand and stands up. He walks over to Samantha and scoops her up into his arms. She stays asleep, only letting out a soft sigh at the movement before relaxing against him. He follows me out of his apartment, and even though he can see the elevator from his door, he insists on walking me to it.
Samantha is sleeping against his chest, and he has one hand cupping her butt and the other resting on her back to quickly cup her head if she needs the support. Without overthinking it, I lean closer and press a kiss to her cheek. Vitya stills, and before I pull back, I inhale his intoxicating scent, grateful that he has no idea I’d sniffed his pillow earlier.
“I’ll text you later,” I say, stepping back and using my card to unlock the elevator doors. Turning around, I push the button for the penthouse and then look up at him. He’s standing there, watching me, and he looks so goddamn gorgeous with a baby in his arms. The truth is I’d rather stay here with him, but this plan is feeble enough as it is. I need to at least play my part and give it a chance to work.
He keeps his blue eyes on mine until the doors shut and all I can see is my fuzzy reflection. The ride up is short, and as soon as I’m inside, I text Niki and ask him to delete the footage of me riding the elevator alone. After I swear to him that I’m not doing anything dangerous, he responds with a thumbs up emoji and a short message.
Niki:
Consider it done.
If only the rest of my family were so easy to please and agreeable.
My mom is the first one back, and my dad shows up an hour later. Val already texted and said he was staying with Max at the house Niki recently acquired for them. They don’t live there full time, but they’re both staying there more and more. I envy them their freedom, and try not to sulk too much about it.
“There’s my girl.”
I smile at my dad and sit down next to him on the couch. Even though we just ate supper, he’s already working on a bowl of ice cream. I share his metabolism and love of food, so when he offers me the second bowl he must’ve fixed for me, I don’t hesitate.
We eat in silence for a few minutes while I work up the courage to lie to my dad. I hate doing it, but there’s no other choice right now. If I say the truth, then the first thing he’ll do is pull Vitya from his bodyguard duties, and I can’t have that. My only option is to tell what I’m calling an innocent white lie, because it’s not like I’m putting my life in danger. I’ll be perfectly safe at the remote farmhouse .
Before I lose courage, I nudge my dad’s shoulder and say, “I think I might have Vitya take me to the farmhouse for a few days.”
My dad immediately gets a suspicious look on his face. I sometimes forget how well he knows me.
“Why?”
I shrug and try to play it cool. “He wasn’t feeling good today, and my throat is kind of scratchy. I think it might do me good. I can rest out there and just relax. It’s peaceful out in the country.”
“You can rest and relax here, and if you’re feeling sick, then I’m not so sure I want you that far away.”
“It’s barely a scratchy throat, Dad. I’ll be fine.” I sigh and take another bite, deciding to let out a scrap of truth. “Everyone is getting married and having babies.”
“Just Natalya and Luka,” he reminds me, “and your Uncle Lev tried very hard to not let that happen.” He turns to look at me. “Jesus Christ, Sveta, have you fallen in love with an Italian?”
The horror in his voice has me laughing as I shake my head. “No, Dad. I promise I haven’t.”
“Thank fuck,” he groans dramatically. “You made my heart race there for a second.” He takes another bite and then points his spoon at me. “Has Vitya tried something? Has he been inappropriate in any way, because I made it very clear what would happen to him if he did.”
“What did you threaten?” I ask while filling my spoon with more ice cream like I’m not dying to know the answer.
“Never you mind,” he tells me. “That’s for me to know and him to worry about.”
“You’re impossible,” I say, but I love my dad too much to be angry. I know he means well and that he’s just worried and overprotective. It’s a common side effect with his line of work. He’s experienced too much pain and had too many awful things happen to the people he loves to have a calm and laid-back parenting style. “And, no, Vitya has never done anything inappropriate. He barely talks to me. You know that. I get grunts. It’s how we communicate. ”
“Sounds good to me. He better make damn sure those grunts don’t ever turn into groans.”
My mom walks over right as I sigh and shake my head. “Mom, Dad’s being ridiculous again.”
“Does he ever stop?” she asks, not missing a beat.
My dad laughs and wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her onto his lap. “I can’t believe you just said that, ptichka . You better start being nice to me or I’m not going to share my ice cream with you.”
“Oh, we’ll see about that,” my mom says, grabbing the spoon from him and taking a big bite.
My dad raises a brow at me. “You see what a handful she is? Has been since the beginning. I thought for sure I’d have her trained by now.”
My mom barks out a laugh while my dad smiles at her. He’s so full of shit. He’s obviously head over heels for my mom, always has been, and judging by the way they’re looking at one another, it’s always going to be that way.
Feeling very much like a third wheel, I start to get up to put my empty bowl in the sink. Before I leave the room, my dad says, “You can go to the farmhouse, but I want to talk to Vitya before you go.”
I smile over at him while my mind races to figure out how in the hell we’re going to manage that. “Thanks, Dad. I’ll let him know.”
Leaving my parents to finish their ice cream in peace, I head to my room so I can text Vitya. He’s not going to be happy about the change in plans.