Chapter 15
SONYA
Istep into the living room and extend my hand, holding a steaming mug of coffee. Evgeny looks at it like I’m offering him poison.
“We go through this dance every morning. You’ve been sleeping on my couch every night for weeks. Just take the damn coffee.”
Evgeny begrudgingly accepts the cup and grunts that he will wait in the hallway for me.
He has been my constant shadow for two weeks.
He’s the first man I’ve had in my apartment for an embarrassingly long time, and he barely even speaks to me.
He sleeps on my couch, which I know from experience is not comfortable, and it must be worse for someone his size.
He’s a constant presence outside my office door, and comes with me to all of my appointments as well as the courthouse.
My neighbors are starting to talk, which is only exacerbated by the fact that Matvei is often stopping by unannounced to check on me.
I’m pouring myself a cup of coffee when I hear a noise out in the hallway, a high voice I recognize instantly. I can’t make out any actual words, but I hear Evgeny’s deep bass reply.
“Oh, shit,” I groan.
I glance at my phone and see multiple missed messages from Kelly. I was working on a case and must have forgotten my phone was on silent mode for court yesterday. “Shit, shit, shit!” I rush to the door and throw it open.
“I’m going to ask you one more time. What the hell are you doing at my sister’s door? If you don’t answer me right now, I’m going to handcuff you and take you in.”
“Kelly, stop!”
She and I peer at each other around the wall that is Evgeny.
I meet her wide-eyed gaze that quickly narrows to a glare.
“Sonya, you want to tell me what the hell is going on? You disappear for two weeks after someone takes a shot at you and you haven’t answered my messages.
I’ve been texting all morning. We had plans for brunch, remember? ”
I slap my forehead and drag my hand down my face. “Damn it, I forgot. I’m so sorry. Things have been crazy at work, and I have this case—”
“Yeah, yeah,” Kelly brushes off my excuses. “Save it. I know you’re busy saving the world, but I’m not going anywhere until you tell me why Matvei’s bodyguard is standing outside your door.”
She points at the big Russian, actually poking him in the chest. I have to bite back a laugh when her eyes open wide in surprise, knowing her finger poked what must’ve felt like chiseled stone.
“His name is Evgeny. He’s now my temporary bodyguard. He’s keeping me safe after what happened at the wedding.” I squeeze under Evgeny’s arm to meet Kelly out in the hallway.
“Your bodyguard?” Kelly looks the enormous man up and down. He does the same to her.
“Here.” I shove my cup of coffee into her hands. “Drink this. It has that Irish cream stuff you like so much. Maybe it’ll make up just a little bit for forgetting about our brunch.”
She takes a sip, which is followed by a hum of satisfaction. Her green eyes slide to mine over the rim, creased slightly with what I know is a frown. “It helps a little bit. But you still owe me. I swear I’ll handcuff you and drag you in with me. This is the second month in a row, Sonya.”
“I know, I know. I’m sorry. I feel horrible. I really do.”
My sister gently punches me on the shoulder and gives me a small smile. “Hey, you know I’m the last one who’s going to get between you and your clients.”
I smile and rub my neck. “Thanks, Kelly.”
“But seriously, you do owe me. I’m not going to forget.”
“I know.”
“And it’ll be on your dime.”
“Of course,” I sigh. “Anyway, like I said, Evgeny is my bodyguard until, well, I don’t really know.” I look up at Evgeny. “You remember my adoptive sister Kelly from the wedding.”
Evgeny nods. Kelly looks him up and down again, but this time, praise and an approval spark in her eyes, which makes me a little nervous.
Kelly drains the coffee and shoves the mug back into my hands. “Seriously, Sonya. I need some girl time.”
“I know, and I promise I’ll make some time soon.”
I hug her close. She returns the embrace so tightly it’s hard to breathe.
When she pulls away, she gives Evgeny one more appraising glance up and down, pausing on the expanse of chest beneath the black T-shirt.
“I’ve got my eye on you,” she says, pointing to her eyes and then to him before turning and leaving. We watch her go until her long, dark ponytail disappears around the corner.
“So, your sister, the cop.” He sounds curious. “How attached is she to playing by the law?”
I roll my eyes, take my empty cup from him, and shut the door in his face.
“I thought I told you if you’re going to come here, you couldn’t get in the way of my work.”
“I’m not getting in the way of your work. You’re very capable of doing that all on your own. I seem to remember you coming on to me.”
“Only because you kept trailing your hand up and down my thigh,” I accuse.
Matvei and I are in my bed, both entirely naked, clothes thrown everywhere, my hair a mess, our bodies drenched in sweat.
I might not be getting any work done, but I am deeply satisfied and relaxed. Matvei seems to be too. It’s not his natural state, and I take a little bit of pride in that fact. He’s not the only one who can work magic.
He just grins.
“I really do have to get back to work. The deadline to file is eight a.m. tomorrow.”
I try to brush my hair back with my fingers, then give up and snag a hairband from my nightstand, tying it all into a knot at the nape of my neck.
I start to get out of bed when Matvei grabs my hand, his long, confident fingers weaving between mine.
He pulls me back to him, and our mouths crush together like we didn’t just spend the last hour ravaging one another in every way we possibly could.
This man drives me wild in ways I’ve never experienced or imagined.
It’s like he has a map of my body and reads it like an expert navigator.
The man knows exactly what will drive me to new heights of pleasure, and make dirty, filthy things and screams tumble from my mouth that I don’t remember afterward.
I don’t know what to think of the past two months.
Months.
I can’t believe it’s been that long since that fateful meeting at the airport.
Matvei has been at my apartment nearly every day. At first, he would only pop in, saying he was there to make sure I was still safe and alive. I didn’t buy it because he was in constant contact with Evgeny and he knew damn well I was fine.
Popping in became pastries from a cafe I now know he owns and take out from an expensive restaurant.
Our getting closer has felt as easy as the long autumn days slipping into crisp nights, the sky that bright, brilliant shade of blue you only get in late October and early November.
And when night comes, it’s not just the radiator that warms me, it’s him.
Even if we haven’t actually defined anything.
We kiss until I’m out of breath again, and I finally have to push him away.
“Seriously. Unless I get this done, her bastard of an ex will win.”
“You know,” Matvei pushes himself up on one elbow, “there is another way to deal with people like that.”
I stare at him for one heartbeat, then two. “Are you seriously suggesting I put a hit on him?”
Matvei shrugs like he’s made a joke, but we both know he’s serious. Doing my best to ignore what I can only assume is a discrete offer, I clean myself up and get dressed.
Matvei is already back in his three-piece suit by the time I’m done, perched on the couch with a takeaway cup of coffee, as if we hadn’t just been doing scandalous things to each other twenty minutes ago.
I turn to the kitchen to make myself some tea to wake up my brain when I notice the gigantic bouquet on my side table by the door. It’s the biggest I’ve ever seen, much less ever received, and I gasp.
“Did you get these for me?”
Ignoring the fact that this takes whatever is between us to another level—something I don’t want to think about right now—I move toward the flowers. I start to reach out, but Matvei blocks my way.
“Don’t touch it.”
Every inch of me prickles with the danger in those three icy words. “What? What’s wrong?”
Instead of answering me, Matvei throws open the door and addresses Evgeny in Russian. He points to the bouquet. “Where did these flowers come from?”
“You didn’t send them?” Evgeny sounds genuinely surprised. “I brought them in because I thought they were from you.”
“Why would I send them?” Matvei hisses.
I try to ignore that his anger is in reply to the fact that his second-in-command thought he would send me flowers.
Tension fills the room, and I realize both men are looking at me, waiting for an explanation I can’t give.
I look at the flowers again, their petals soft and innocent, belying the friction they’ve created.
My heart thumps heavily in my chest as I reach for the card among the bright blooms. Evgeny snatches it up before my fingers can close on the white paper.
The big Russian’s lips move as he silently reads the writing on the card before handing it to Matvei. Matvei takes a second to read the words before balling the card up in a white-knuckled fist.
“What?”
“Samson.”
Matvei says the name with a vicious snarl, his eyes burning with anger so intense I back away several steps, adrenaline pulsing through my limbs in case I need to run.
A string of angry words explodes from him.
As he paces my apartment, I reach down for the crumpled card and read the cramped, messy writing that looks uncomfortably familiar:
Think of this as just the start of my apology for what you went through. —Samson
“Oh no.”