Page 29 of Little Blue

I wonder where the dogs are…

The man spins a pan in one hand, a cheeky grin on his face as he taunts the woman. She clucks at him, and I don’t have to be able to speak Russian to know, for a fact, she’s scolding him.

He only grins wider, before he sets the pan on the stove. The woman says something else with a sharp shake of her head as she moves to the big fridge, her steps stuttering to a full stop when she sees us.

“Oh! Mr. Volkov!” Her eyes drift to me and she smiles far too wide for comfort. “Good morning. We’re making—um, omelet.”

She speaks English. Hallelujah.

“Good morning, Polina.” Ilya’s hand presses into my back again, pressing me closer. “This is Irelynn, my fiancée.”

My head whips to him. What-now?

I look back to Polina, my eyes imploring. “I’ve been kidnapped. I’m not his anything. I don’t know him. At all—and I want to go home.”

Polina’s wide eyes shift from me to Ilya, back to me, then him.

I look from Polina to the older man who stands at the stove. He’s stiff as he stares between us all. I think—I think he looks—amused?

Slowly, I dare a look at Ilya.

My insides liquify. He’s staring down at me with a smile curling the corner of his lips that, I’ll admit, twists my heart. Not only does he look amused, but he looks like he wants to laugh. A full belly, rich and unrestrained, laugh.

Suddenly, I want to hear that laugh.

“Polina and Daniil have worked for me for close to twenty years. They both speak English and will be glad to assist you when they can. What neither will do is help you escape me.” He leans down to press a kiss to my temple. “You can stop trying.”

“Never.”

Daniil says something to Ilya in Russian that I can’t even begin to comprehend. Ilya responds with a grunt that makes Daniil chuff a laugh. Then, to me, he says, “It’s good to meet you.”

I want to tell him that it’s not good to meet him. But I’m not petty, and I can’t make myself be mean to the monster’s staff. I just can’t. “It’s good to meet you, as well. It would have been nicer if I were here by choice, but…” I follow up the words with a small, helpless shrug.

Daniil gives another laugh that has his wide chest bouncing. Polina swats him with the back of her hand, leaving a dusting of flour on his shirt. He doesn’t seem to mind as he turns to the stove. He slaps a square of butter into the pan with garlic and onions to sauté. Then he sets to cracking eggs into a bowl.

While Daniil whips the eggs, Polina offers, “Coffee? Tea?”

I almost moan at the mention of coffee. If there’s something I need to clear my mind enough to plot my escape, it’s caffeine.

“Coffee would be lovely, Polina.” I give her a smile that she is eager to return.

“Coffee.” I try not to be affected by Ilya’s deep voice as I move away from him to a massive window that peers over a snowy land.

I take the chair at the table that gives me the best view outside, and marvel at how I came to be here. It’s like something out of a book. A world that is so far from my own, I’m having a difficult time comprehending it.

Polina sets a small tray with our coffee, cream, and sugar onto the table. Ilya is sitting closer than I’d like, and even though I’ve done my very best not to look at him, I can feel his eyes on me.

I pour a generous amount of cream into my coffee, foregoing the sugar. I take a big sip. Then, because it feels like it’s been an eternity, I moan.

It just slips out. A pure pleasure response I am incapable of containing.

I take another sip and give a shuddering sigh of pleasure as I let my eyes fall closed.

I. Love. Coffee.

When I open my eyes, I find Ilya looking at me with a sharpness that steals the breath from my lungs.

“You like coffee?” His voice is impossibly deep and a little raspy. I—I like it.

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