Chapter 16
I’m in heaven. At least that’s what my body seems to think.
This bed is like sleeping on a cloud wrapped in silk. Stretching my arm out, I nudge Marion who immediately begins mewling. She’s probably hungry.
Rolling over, I grab for my phone on the side table.
Shit. It’s almost one in the afternoon!
Shoving the silk comforter off of me, I jump out of bed. I haven’t slept this late since high school, and that was only because I had mono.
Marion does her cat stretches while watching me look around, as though there’s something I should be doing.
Except there isn’t. I’m in Lev’s bedroom. His penthouse. I have nothing to do here. No job, no chores. Nothing.
I catch a glimpse of myself in the corner standup mirror and decide a shower is a job, and one I need to do right away.
My hair stands on end in every direction possible.
I’m a mover when I sleep, not so much my body, but my head whips from one side to the other throughout the night, making it look as though I slept in a wind tunnel.
After tamping it down as best I can, I dig through the duffel and find a fresh set of clothes before heading into the bathroom.
Fresh towels are folded and sitting on the counter for me. Does Lev have staff, or did he leave these for me?
I should have locked the door after he left last night to be sure no one came in. But I’d been so wound up over what we’d done, I just laid down and worried myself to sleep.
Of course I worried. I’d just had sex with Lev Yakovlev.
At first I tried to tell myself I was worried that Nicolette would hate me, but there’s really no need to worry about that. She’s been trying to put the two of us together since I met them.
No, the real reason having done what I did bothers me is because it’s Lev Yakovlev. He’s the head of the arms organization for the Russian Bratva. Sleeping with him isn’t exactly consequence free; not to mention we didn’t use any sort of protection.
After a quick count of days from my last cycle, I’m less panicked about that now. At least from the pregnancy standpoint. I suppose I should ask him about other things, like when’s the last time he was tested.
I can’t imagine that a man like him doesn’t have women lining up around the block for a chance with him. He could pick any woman anywhere that he wanted. Why would he want me? Plain Jane with a little more junk in the trunk than society forgives.
Marion interrupts my current bout of worrying with her I want food howl from the bedroom. I quickly finish tying my hair up in a towel and drying off before I dress in a pair of jeans and a fitted black T-shirt.
A quick search of his bathroom yields a comb to run through my hair. After I slip on a pair of socks and some tennis shoes, I pick up Marion and head through the sitting room.
“I’m sure there’s something I can feed you downstairs in the kitchen.” I scratch beneath her chin and make my way through the penthouse to where I think I remember the kitchen being.
“Ms. Hartman.” One of Lev’s men, Stephan, I think, steps out from the shadows as soon as my foot hits the landing, startling me.
“Shit.” I press my hand to my chest and Marion hisses. “I didn’t see you.”
“Lev is on a phone call. Is there something you need?”
I can tell he’s trying to be polite in the way a child would be accommodating to their grandmother visiting. He has better things to be doing with his time, but since I’m a guest, he’s stuck tending to me.
“I need to feed Marion. So, I guess I need the kitchen.” I glance down a hallway to my left.
“It’s down the hall to your right,” he gestures the opposite of my guess.
“Right. Thanks.” I take a few steps, then stop with a snap of my fingers. “Sorry. Quick question. Marion here…she’s going to need a litter box or something like that?”
“She’s already been set up with a litter box on each floor. The housekeeper has already shown her the one upstairs. The one on this floor is in the laundry room, past the kitchen take another right at the hallway, and it’s there.”
“Oh. Great. Thank you.” The housekeeper must have been the one who left the fresh towels for me.
I turn down the hallway toward the kitchen and within a few steps I realize the man is following me.
“I’m sure you have better things to do than babysit me,” I say, half turning toward him.
He doesn’t respond, but the look on his face says I’m right. He has much better things to do than follow me around all day.
“But Lev told you to make sure I didn’t steal the China?” I try for levity.
Still, nothing. Just a bored stone-faced figure.
“How about this. I don’t want you following me around. So, why don’t you stay here, and if I need something I’ll come find you?”
“I’m to be sure you’re safe.”
“Are you suggesting someone could possibly break into this fortress?” I scratch Marion under her chin. She’s been somewhat patient so far, but she’s about to become unruly if I don’t get food in front of her.
“Of course not.”
“But you’re still going to hang with me?”
He nods.
“Fine. But if you’re going to do that, I’m going to feed you too. C’mon.” I carry Marion into the kitchen, with Stephan right behind me.
It’s a full-blown chef’s kitchen, like the ones I’ve seen on the food network. Double ovens are stacked beside a built-in fridge, a six-burner gas range with a restaurant-grade hood, and an industrial dishwasher is tucked flush beneath the counters— all sleek stainless steel.
Cool gray and white veined marble stretches across the countertops and an oversized island. It’s a direct contrast to the espresso-stained wood cabinets. It’s all very high-end and masculine. I get the sense that Lev had a heavy hand in designing the space.
Marion meows and wiggles free from my arms, rubbing against my legs and howling again.
“All right. I’ll find you something.”
“The pantry is through there,” Stephan directs me.
I stand in awe at the amount of space and stock. My bathroom is smaller than this thing. After a quick search, I find a can of tuna.
“Not a lot to choose from.” I jerk my thumb at the pantry. Stephan’s brow wrinkles. “I was being sarcastic.”
He nods then pulls out his phone and begins scrolling. I find a small dish and a can opener and go about getting Marion fed. She purrs happily when I place her long overdue breakfast on the floor for her.
“So.” I clap my hands. “I know it’s late, but I haven’t had breakfast. I can whip us up some eggs or pancakes or French toast. I’m sure there’s bread around here somewhere.”
Stephan looks up from his phone, confused again.
“I said I’d cook for you, too, so what do you want?”
“Nothing. I’m fine.”
“Let me make you something. If you’re stuck babysitting me, it’s the least I can do.”
“You don’t need to do anything. I’m good.”
“Fine.” I open the fridge, find everything I need for a quick vegetable scramble and bring everything out to the counter.
As I’m chopping the onions and bell peppers, I sense Stephan watching me, but when I look up, he’s back on his phone. I throw in two extra eggs.
By the time I’m finished the kitchen smells amazing. I’m no chef, but having fresh vegetables to cook with makes everything taste better. Finding the plates in one of cabinets, I plate up some for myself and for Stephan.
“Here.” I push his plate at him across the kitchen island.
He eyes it, like a child wanting to grab a cookie from the dessert plate but isn’t sure he’s allowed.
“It’s eggs. Just take it. I promise they’re good.” I place a fork next to it, then pick up my plate and lean against the counter to devour it. When I finish, I bring my plate to the sink.
“That was really good.” Stephan places his empty plate on the counter beside me.
“Of course it was.” I smile up at him and turn the warm water on.
“The housekeeper will do those,” he says when I start rinsing off the dishes and loading them into the dishwasher.
“I can handle it. I don’t mind pitching in. Least I can do since you’re having to put up with me here,” I say, finishing up.
When it’s all done, I find Marion wandering around outside the kitchen and lead her to where the litter box should be for her. She has no lay of the land here, and I can’t have her making messes on these expensive floors. Or worse, the furniture.
Stephan stays back, but I can sense his presence as I make my way through the penthouse.
It’s less ominous this time than the night I came to talk with Lev about the gun.
Maybe it’s the sunlight basking the rooms through the large windows overlooking the city.
Or it’s because I’m not frightened as I was that night.
That was barely a week ago.
I try my brother’s phones again, leaving yet another voicemail before I scoop up Marion and take her back up to the bedroom. My shadow has finally backed off enough that I can’t tell if he’s even following me anymore.
While Marion naps on the sofa in the sitting area of Lev’s rooms, I make the bed.
Marion doesn’t shed a lot for a cat, but I can already see some of her hair on the couch and even on the comforter.
It takes a while, but I finally locate the cleaning supplies in a closet down the hall and bring back the vacuum and dusting things.
Marion hates vacuums, so as soon as she sees me carrying it in, she makes a mad dash under the bed.
“Just don’t go putting any holes in the mattress under there,” I say and turn on the handheld wireless vacuum.
After getting the hair off the comforter, I decide to go ahead and just vacuum the whole room. I already have the vacuum out; might as well be of good use.
“What the hell are you doing?” A shout comes over the sound of the vacuum.
I scream at the sudden intrusion. In my shock, I grab a book from a side table and hurl it at the intruder.
When my attention focuses, a chill runs down my spine.
Lev glares at me from the doorway. The book lays open at his feet.