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By the time the food arrives, my stomach is growling. I’m already dressed in one of Ilya’s shirts, and I’m ready. Here goes nothing.
Ilya glares at the guard who brings in the food and sets it up at the table Ilya has in his office area. The poor guy’s eyes move to me, take me in quickly, and then drop away. Ilya’s menacing step toward him has him scurrying out, his body blocking the view of me and giving me my opening.
How kind of the kitchen to send up an already opened bottle of wine. I dump the small vial of the sedative I hid in the closet one of the times I snuck into the house in the last few months. The vial is back in the pocket of his shirt and I’m sitting before he’s even turned around. I sip my wine, appreciating the expensive blend, before I dive into my steak.
If I’m leaving, I’m damn well eating every damn thing I asked for. It’ll take a little bit for that sedative to work anyway. We have time.
Ilya sits across from me, bare chest drawing my gaze. He smirks. “See something you like, lisichka?”
My smile widens. “I think the number of times your cock has been inside me in the last few hours proves that.” His eyes fill with renewed lust, but I shake my fork at him. “Uh-uh, none of that right now, pet. I’m hungry, and as nice as your cock is, I don’t think you’re going to let me eat it.” I wrinkle my nose. “Eww, no, I’m never going to say those words together again.”
Ilya laughs and starts eating. “Well, I guess we know you won’t be biting my cock off.”
“Not unless you do something to seriously piss me off, but we won’t talk about that now.”
“Agreed.” He gives me a pointed stare. “Instead, we can talk about where we go from here.”
Yeah, no, he’s not going to like that answer.
“Tomorrow. Tonight, I want it to be about you and me. I didn’t do all this shit to talk about serious shit right away.”
“Are you trying to stall, Lane?”
I still can’t get over the zing that shoots through me at him saying my name. “I’m trying not to ruin the mood, Ilya.” I shrug when he frowns. “You really want to get into the nitty-gritty of things tonight? The Bratva Butcher is dead. Mila is safe. Mishka will take over the Belov territory and work with you to keep this part of the country moving in the ways that make you both the most money. That’s all that matters. Everything else, we can sort out later.”
His frown deepens. “Yes, you’re right, but after all of that, why do I get the feeling you’re getting ready to run?”
Damn him and his intuition.
“It’s always going to feel that way.” Why lie? “I’m an assassin, Ilya. I don’t stay in one place all the time. It’s not going to change overnight. Take it as a good sign that I’m actually willing to spend the night with you tonight. Sleep in the same bed. I’ve never done that before.”
My words penetrate, and he slowly relaxes, taking a long gulp of his wine. Guilt hits, but I push it down. This is necessary.
We lapse into a comfortable silence as we eat. I wolf down the food—damn, I was starved—and am already finishing my dessert when he polishes off his wine and finishes his steak. He sits back, hands folded over his stomach. “Damn, that hit the spot.” He smiles, taking in my empty plate. “And you were hungry.” He cocks his head at the wine. “Not a fan of the wine? I can send for something else.”
“Old habits. We were taught never to drink alcohol because it dulls our senses.” He frowns, but I take another sip. “It is good, but I’m probably not going to be a savant or whatever the hell you call those snooty people that love this stuff.”
He chuckles. “I’m sure the chef will love to know your opinion on that. Don’t drink it if you don’t want to. We can find something else that you’ll enjoy and feel more comfortable with.”
Damn it, that guilt is really trying to take hold. Why does he have to be so nice to me right now?
Or he’s doing it to throw you off and make you let your guard down.
Yeah, that’s probably it. Has to be.
Or the drugs are already relaxing him enough that he’s being abnormally nice. Either way, I don’t trust it.
“Thanks,” I say, pushing away from the table. If my math is right, he should be getting sleepy in the next few minutes, and I don’t want to worry about getting his giant ass up off the floor, so I need to get him to the bed. “I’m tired.”
He gets to his feet and sways a little bit. “Damn, yeah, I’m tired too. Come, lisichka, I have been waiting a long time to have you in my bed for longer than a few hours and worrying you will disappear.”
“I’d think you’d be worried about me burning you in the bed again.”
He flicks me a wicked grin. “I think I can take you now that I know what to expect. Put my mouth on your pussy, and I’ll have that lighter tossed to the other side of the room quick enough.”
A flash of heat hits my core, and I fleetingly think how nice it would be to actually spend a night with him.
He wraps an arm around my waist, swaying slightly as we head for the bed. I’ve got seconds before he crashes, so we need to speed this up.