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“You think she’s in danger?”
I run my thumb over hers, tracing the line of her delicate hand. “I don’t know, but she’s way too innocent to be left unguarded if these men are even half as guilty as we think they are.”
“Send me the address, and I’ll have them meet you there.”
I hang up and text him the address, and then I call a locksmith because it would take me about thirty seconds to pick through the flimsy-ass locks she currently has. Even though I’ve obviously woken the guy up, he agrees to come over and upgrade her locks thanks to the huge tip I promise him. While I wait, I watch Emily sleep. She looks so damn peaceful, and I have the insane urge to make sure she always stays that way. How can she look so sweet and innocent when her dad is most likely involved in one of the biggest sex trafficking rings in the country?
My eyes run over the lines of her bare shoulder and back, the curve of her hip that I vividly remember gripping earlier, and then down the legs I’d love to feel wrapped around me. She’s still wearing her heels, so I let go of her hand to remove them. Slipping them off, I set them on the floor and smile at the pale yellow toenail polish she’s wearing. I’ve never paid much attention to feet, but hers are fucking cute as hell. I brush one finger along the arch and then without even thinking about it, I lean closer and kiss the top of her foot.
Holy shit, I need to get a fucking grip.
My phone buzzes, saving myself from further embarrassment. I text the guys her apartment number and then take a quick photo of her, and when that’s not enough, I take several more. I force myself to walk out of her room, refusing to psychoanalyze what I’ve just done. As soon as I hear the soft knock at the door, I let the two men in. I’m not surprised that Danil’s chosen Sergei and Timofey, two of our newer recruits with previous military training.
I wave them into the living room and then grab a photo that’s sitting on a shelf. Emily’s smiling face looks back at me. She’s got her arm slung around another young woman, and they’re both in their waitressing uniforms.
“This is Emily Marston,” I tell them, pointing her out in the photo. “She is your only priority right now. I want you both switching out so that someone is watching her at all times.”
“Her locks are terrible,” Timofey says, mirroring my tone and keeping his voice low so we don’t wake her.
“I’ve already got a locksmith on his way over. You won’t need to worry about someone breaking in that way anymore, and there’s no fire escape or balcony.” I take out my phone and scroll through my photos, making damn sure they can’t see the photos I just took of her passed out on her bed, until I find the ones I took at the dinner. I show them the photo I’d taken of Connor. “This fucker is not to get anywhere near her. Understood?”
“Yes, sir,” they both say, studying the photo and memorizing Connor’s smug face.
“Good. You two can figure out your own schedule. I don’t care what it is as long as one of you is watching her at all times, and I want daily updates. Notify me immediately if something happens that I should know about.”
They both nod, eager to prove themselves to me, and as they’re leaving, the locksmith shows up. He’s older with a bald spot that’s slowly taking over the crown of his head. He looks like I just woke him up and dragged him out of bed, but he still smiles and holds out his hand.
“Mr. Melnikov? I’m Greg. We spoke on the phone.”
I shake his hand and point at the locks on her door. “I need this replaced with the best thing you have.”
He looks at the lock she currently has and shakes his head. “You’re damn lucky no one’s broken in yet. My ten-year-old could bust through this thing.” He squats down and starts going through the tools he brought. “I can put a deadbolt on here that no one will ever be able to pick.”
“Sounds good. Let me know when you’re done, and I’ll make sure you get your tip.”
“Sure thing, Mr. Melnikov,” he says, already getting to work.
I walk back inside and spend the next several minutes snooping. Turns out Emily loves really long fantasy novels, romantic comedies on Netflix, and likes to keep her fridge stocked with various flavored teas. When I open a container on her counter, I nearly moan at the sight of what has to be homemade cupcakes. There are five left. I eat two while leaning against her counter, closing my eyes at how fucking good it tastes. A vivid image of Emily in nothing but a cute apron, mixing up a batch of cupcakes while I kneel and eat her pussy flashes through my mind, and it’s so real that I have to shake my head to get rid of it. This is not good. I need to be purely focused on what her dad is up to and how it can lead me to my sister. That’s my focus, not an adorable woman who makes my heart race every time I look at her.
“All done, Mr. Melnikov,” Greg calls from the front door.
I walk over to inspect his work. Satisfied, I hand him the agreed upon thousand-dollar tip plus the cost of the emergency night visit. Greg hands me the keys and leaves a very happy man. I undo one of the keys from the keyring and pocket it before grabbing a piece of paper so I can write her a note.
Emily,
Your locks were pathetic and useless, so I had them changed. Here’s your new key. Hope you’re not feeling too sick today. Be sure and take aspirin and drink plenty of water.
You look beautiful when you sleep.
Roman
I find some aspirin and grab a bottle of water before walking back into her bedroom. Setting everything on her nightstand, I look down at her again. She’s sprawled out on her back now without a care in the world. Her dress has bunched up a bit, giving me a glimpse of her calves and just a few inches of thigh. It shouldn’t turn me on as much as it does. There are a lot of things I should be doing right now, and staring at Emily while she sleeps isn’t one of them, but I can’t bring myself to leave her just yet.
I keep watching her for an embarrassingly long time, wishing I could curl up next to her, and then once the idea hits me, it won’t let go. With a sigh, I lay down, telling myself that it’s a completely normal thing to do. I think she’s gorgeous, and I’d very much like to fuck her, but that’s not what this is about. For the first time in a very long time, I don’t feel like there’s a monstrous weight on my shoulders. Something about Emily calms me, and that’s what I’m so desperate for right now.
As soon as I’m on the bed, she gives a soft moan and rolls on her side, cuddling up against me. Even in her intoxicated state, she seeks me out. I’m not convinced she actually knows it’s me until she brings her face against my neck and whispers my name. She burrows in even deeper and drapes an arm and leg over me. I wrap my arm around her without a second thought, and for the first time in my life, I lie fully clothed with a woman and just cuddle with her.
Her breaths even out again as I stroke her hair, letting the long, soft strands slide through my fingers. I’m harder than I think I’ve ever been, but I don’t care. I’m content to just hold her while she sleeps, and that’s exactly what I do, not moving until the sky starts to lighten. I kiss her forehead, and slowly slide out from under her before leaning down and kissing her cheek again.
