safe room. I will expect you to go. I will always expect that you do as I say in front of my men. That you have my back. I will give you every consideration, and treat you as a partner, but when it comes down to danger, I can’t move until I know you’re safe.” He tipped her face up to his. “Can you live with that?”
His eyes searched hers, looking for an answer. Almost desperate for one. Ania smiled at him. “Absolutely I can.”
“Tell me what you’d like to do besides wait for me without a stitch on and give me every fuckin’ thing I want or need. One thing I can do for you, give you. Something that matters to you.”
“You said I could drive. That matters.” Because it did. So much.
“Kotyonok.”
The way he said it, that voice. One word. She still hesitated because this really mattered to her, and if he shot her down, she would be devastated.
“Baby. Just fuckin’ tell me.”
“You know that huge garage you have? The one for collecting cars? It’s temperature controlled and there’s nothing in it.”
He shrugged, watching her face. Never blinking. Never taking his eyes off her. She forced herself to continue.
“I want to use it to design and build custom cars from the ground up. I know I can do it. I can use the money from the sale of my family business to start my own. If I never sell a single car, it won’t matter. I just need to do it. I know I’ll be good at it.”
She was trembling. Inside. Outside. She could barely force herself to look at him.
He went still and then a slow smile softened his hard features briefly before he kissed her, taking her to that place she was becoming familiar with and craved.
He lifted his head. “I think that’s the best idea I’ve ever heard. You tell me what you need, and I’ll help you any way I can.”
Ania put her arms around his neck and lifted her mouth to his.
18
THE house was cold. It shouldn’t be. Ania had kept the heat low, but she couldn’t stop shivering as she stepped inside. Mitya circled her waist with his arm, locking her to him. His body always felt warm to the point of being hot, and immediately his warmth seeped into her.
“It’s too cold in here. I thought I’d left the heat on.”
“Baby, it isn’t that cold. You have a problem coming back to this house. I don’t blame you at all, but maybe you should wait in the car. I can look through the drawers and see if you’re right.”
He kept her tightly against him, even when she reacted, nearly jerking out of his arms to glare at him, because how in the world would she ever have a problem being in her family home?
“That’s not true,” she denied, pushing at his arm.
Mitya didn’t seem to notice she was struggling to get free. “Kotyonok, you do. You become extremely emotional and now it’s affecting you physically.”
Ania took a deep breath and let it out. Her stomach was tied up in knots and she was nauseous. She didn’t want to admit that he could be right, but she was afraid he spoke the truth. She glanced at Sevastyan. He had that same speculative look in his eyes she’d caught a couple of times. He even, if it was possible, looked compassionate.
“I’m all right,” she assured. She didn’t know who she was talking to, the two men or herself. She pressed a hand to her stomach and was grateful for Mitya walking in sync with her. She hadn’t realized she was trembling until that moment. She was a mess just being in the house.
Mitya seemed to understand her mixed feelings, the confusion ruling her mind. She loved her family home, and yet now, she could barely stand being inside it. She could barely breathe and recognized the beginnings of a panic attack.
“Ania, did you always live here with your grandparents?” Mitya asked suddenly.
She saw Sevastyan flick him a quick glance and something passed between the two men, but she had no idea what it was. She forced her mind to concentrate on the question. “Yes, they built the house with my parents and had their wing attached.”
He ran his hand along the polished banister. “I suppose that grandfather of yours would sit you on the banister and hold you while you slid down it as a little girl.”
She suddenly recalled the memory. Mitya was