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The bedroom is an oasis. The charm is over the top. Kirill told me that the only things he’d asked be replaced, at his cost, were the mattresses on the beds and the bedding. Which, I’m grateful for as I fall onto the plush bedspread in tones of cream and green, exhausted.
Pavel and Maxim are staying in the guest house, which I can see makes Kirill uncomfortable by the way he checks his handgun before sliding it into the drawer on his side of the bed. Apart from us, Dimitri is the only one in the house.
Where it clearly gives Kirill anxiety, I feel only peace. As though we’re finally a couple—living like a couple.
Still, propping myself on my elbow, I ask, “Are you worried?”
“I am always worried.” He shoves a blade beneath his pillow. It’s sheathed in leather, but it still freaks me out.
“You don’t sleep with weapons in Russia.”
His eyes slide to me. “In Russia, there are multiple men prepared for an attack who live in my house.”
“Why are Pavel and Maxim in the garage suite then, if it bothers you so much?”
His eyes settle on my face, the corners softening. “Because it makes you happy.”
This man…
“If it makes us unsafe in a way that makes you afraid, I would prefer they are inside.”
He doesn’t even reject the idea. Simply asks, “Are you sure?”
I feel my insides deflate a little as I nod. “Yes.”
Kirill stands, lifting his phone to his ear. He speaks in Russian, ends the call, and makes another, again, in Russian.
When he finishes, he releases a relieved breath. “Pavel and Maxim will move in tonight. There will be a security team arriving tomorrow who will stay in the garage suite.”
Again, I nod. I can’t help but wonder just how dangerous my husband’s life really is to warrant the live-in protection detail he feels is necessary. I want to ask, but I’m honestly not sure I want to know at this point. I’m not sure I have it in me to know. That if I know, I won’t dissolve into a fit of terror.
So, I don’t ask. I simply tap the bed next to me and whisper, “Come to bed, Kirill. It’s been a long day.”
He shoots me a soft smile. “It really has. The demon is already fast asleep.”
“Nala.” I laugh. “The demon is called Nala.”
He crawls up the length of my body, murmuring. “And the talker is silent for once.”
I’m breathless. “Fast asleep.”
“And you, wife?”
“Me…?”
“Are you tired?”
My breath catches. “Not anymore.”
He kisses me long and deep. “Good. Because neither am I.”
Forty
Kirill
My phone rings, and I pull it from my pocket to see a name I can’t risk not answering. Leaning against the passenger door of the SUV, I glance at Dimitri, lifting my hand to indicate I need to take this.
He nods, pulling a toothpick from his back pocket to shove between his teeth as he scrolls his phone. But I know he’s listening.
