Chapter 16 Natalie
NATALIE
“It looks like she’s out,” Daria said quietly.
I smiled at Maisie sleeping like an angel. Daria watched her as well via our FaceTime call. Because Maisie missed her sitter, and because Daria wanted to stay in touch with her too, we arranged to have Daria read her a bedtime story, even if it was remote and over a video call.
“She sure is,” I replied, tugging the covers up a little more before quietly leaving the room.
A couple of weeks ago, Maisie asked if the “other” bedroom could just be her room.
All her toys were in here, and it was more like a second guest room that we treated as her playroom.
But she said she wanted to be a big girl and not sleep with me anymore.
It hurt a little, but I was fine with letting her decide.
I’d only had her in the same room and bed with me when Sergei brought us here because I worried that she would be scared or traumatized in a new place.
This penthouse wasn’t new to us anymore. It felt so much like home that I had to pinch myself and know I wasn’t dreaming.
“She looks so big in that bed now,” Daria said. I kept the call on as I exited the room, glad I hadn’t lost contact with my former sitter and friend.
“She does.” The full-size bed was a big move up from her twin that she had at the apartment. I wasn’t sure she’d want to downsize again. If she would have to.
“Hey, I can’t talk for long,” she said.
“Thank you so much for reading to her.”
“No worries. I miss her. And you. I’m glad to stay connected.” Her smile was a genuine one.
Deep down, I did worry, though. Daria had counted on the babysitting money to make ends meet and I wasn’t paying her for that service anymore.
“I’ve got to study, but I wanted to mention that the landlord’s been talking about subletting your apartment.” She cringed to show what she thought of that.
“Oh.” I furrowed my brow, not sure how to interpret that.
It was getting harder to remember that the small, cramped apartment was mine.
That it was the home I provided for myself and Maisie.
Sergei’s apartment felt like home, decorated with Maisie’s artwork hanging up all over and the small piles of toys scattered around.
I’d even picked up on my former hobby of knitting, and my yarn was in a bag in the lounge where my scarf-in-progress waited for me.
“I don’t think he can legally do that,” she added.
I shrugged, heading into the kitchen to whip up dinner for myself.
Maisie had wanted her staple of chicken nuggets and noodles for dinner, and she ate earlier.
I had yet to prepare something for myself.
And Sergei, if he wasn’t too busy working all night.
“Well, if he tries to, I’m sure I’ll know.
” Sergei explained that he would cover my rent while I wasn’t working.
He also said he had an employee under his supervision to patrol and check on my apartment and the building.
After thanking Daria for that update, I hung up and focused on making dinner.
Reading in between the lines of what Claire and Anya told me, and what the other men like Andre, Roman, and Mikhail, said, I knew that Sergei’s “job” was one within the Mafia.
The night I realized that the Orlovs were a Mafia family, I stayed awake and sat in my bed staring at the wall.
The shock factor wore off, though, because no matter how instinctive it was to assume that anyone in the Mob had to be inherently bad, I was alive because of how good it could be too.
Sergei was my hero.
He had saved me and my daughter.
Every day and night, he provided for us and made sure I was safe.
I sighed as I stirred the pot of noodles I was making fresh for a chicken dish I loved. Relying on Sergei didn’t feel like a threat anymore. Even though I felt “kept” here, I couldn’t imagine giving up this opportunity.
Free from worrying about schedules and getting in enough hours for a good paycheck, I could relax and just be here. I didn’t have to scrape by and live frugally. I didn’t have to guilt-trip myself for not being present in Maisie’s life.
I was here with her, watching her grow and learn.
She was so joyful, so content. I didn’t feel like a failure to not have provided her with an easy life on my own.
I could only bask in the happiness of seeing her so happy.
My daughter’s security meant everything to me, and I hoped that Sergei understood how grateful I was to be a present mother.
But does he know?
Sergei was hard to read, and with him busy with “work” so often, it was hard to find a chance to have an adult conversation with him without Maisie overhearing.
For this last month, I’d been so focused on breathing, on being, and on indulging in this vacation-like opportunity to concentrate on Maisie and being there for her.
The shock and confusion about that violent night faded, and with my awareness that Sergei was in the Mafia, I acclimated to being here as his guest.
I want him to know I appreciate him. All of this.
Halfway through making the dish, he came into the kitchen, groaning with hunger. “Whatever you’re making, it’s driving me crazy.”
I smiled at him, glancing over my shoulder as I stood at the stove. “Want some?”
The heated look he gave me suggested he wanted something, all right. Coming to stand next to me, he set his hands on the edge of the counter and watched me flip the chicken in the wok over another burner. “I’d love whatever you can give me.”
What exactly do you mean with that?
My cheeks heated, and it wasn’t from standing at the stove. If I had more experience with flirting, if the desire for this man didn’t make me suffer a niggling reminder of guilt to move on from my late husband, I would’ve asked him that.
“Will Maisie eat that?” he asked. A slight lift of his lips hinted at a smile. “Because I’ve learned how picky she is.”
I smiled. “She’d never be adventurous enough to try this. Not yet, at least.” I glanced up at him again, thrilled that his proximity didn’t intimidate me anymore. “She’s asleep, anyway. She had dinner earlier and went to bed an hour ago.”
“How come you’re eating so late?” He seemed content to stand there and watch me cook. The domestic moment hung heavily in my mind, and I turned to face him more.
“I wasn’t hungry earlier, and I wanted to make sure I could prepare something for you, too.”
“You don’t have to cook for me.”
I smiled.
“I like to.”
He met my gaze and that hint of heat made my blood sizzle.
The tension that lay lurking beneath the surface hadn’t disappeared. No matter how long it took me to settle in here and stop protesting that he was commandeering my life, I couldn’t shake off the desire he prompted me to feel.
It seemed like so long ago that Daria reminded me that Fitz would want me to be happy again. To not mourn him forever. Part of my hesitation to see Sergei as someone to move on with was the enigma of who he was.
Yet, I knew who he was now. I was more used to him and had picked up on his tells and quirks, his preferences and peeves. Calling us roommates didn’t do our arrangement justice. And this draw to him was something more than friendship.
“I like playing house here, Sergei, and I appreciate that I can.”
He chuffed a wry laugh before opening his mouth for me to offer him a bit of the saucy noodles to taste.
“Do you?” I asked. Once the short question was out of my mouth, I held my breath. Tense and waiting for his reply as he chewed then swallowed, all while he kept his stare on me, I licked my lips and regretted being this forward.
“Do I like your playing house here?” he asked.
I nodded, lowering my gaze as he stepped closer, behind me at the stove.
“I do.” With my back flush to his rock-hard chest, he slid his hands over my sides. Reaching in front of me, bracketing me against the stove, he found the knobs to turn off all the burners. “I’ve been driving myself insane with wanting to play with you.”
Shivers skated down my skin. Sagging against him, I closed my eyes and embraced the heat and security of his hugging me back to him.
One arm banded over my stomach until he tugged me flush to him.
With his free hand, he brushed back my hair and urged me to tilt my head.
I gave him access to my neck, where he instantly pressed his hot lips.
Kissing me slowly as he hugged me, he growled with a sexy grunt that made him more irresistible.
As if hearing his need for me could ramp up my desire higher.
“I want to play with you, Natalie.” He stroked his fingers lower until he traced the inch of my skin exposed from my shirt lifting up.
Raising my arm to cup the back of his head and keep him close had my blouse higher.
“I want to play and make you feel so good that you’ll never think about ever wanting to leave. ”
In other circumstances, his words could’ve been a threat. A warning. Some kind of a wicked and controlling phrase of manipulation. But with how comfortable I was with him and how much being here was starting to trick with my idea of being home, I could only smile and wish he’d make that come true.
That I’d never have to leave.
That I wouldn’t return to my lackluster life from before.
“It hasn’t crossed my mind, Sergei.” As I turned to face him more, he lifted his smoky, stormy gaze to meet mine. Inches parted us as he stared me down. Turbulent emotions zinged between us, but all I could latch on to was the desire. The need. All this lust that I couldn’t deny myself anymore.
“I wish this was just how it was.” I licked my lips as he leaned in closer. “I wish that you and I weren’t playing or pretending and I’m not a guest here.”
Tension rose as he watched me, hugging me close and almost trapping me from fully facing him, as if he needed this reminder of who was in control.
“What other option is there?” he asked, throwing my previous words back at me.