Page 20 of Fight

Despite my dour mood, I couldn’t help but laugh. Quiet would be a challenge, but I’d have to step up to it, buy myself enough time to figure something out. I got up, brushed my teeth, ignored my hair, which was a terrible mess, and prepared to venture out into the hallway wearing the clothes I had washed last night.

When I turned the knob, I realized I hadn’t even locked the door last night.

Incredible.

I’d been that comfortable here, with him, more comfortable than even the homes I might have once called my own.

That realization filled my chest with warmth, a feeling I worked hard to push away. I’d just run through all the reasons Ioan was dangerous. I couldn’t let myself get comfortable because this wouldn’t last, and there would be a cost. There were no free rides, and as nice as Ioan seemed, as kind as he had been, it was only a matter of time before I would have to pay.

With that thought in my head, I walked down the hallway and into the living room, which opened onto the kitchen where Ioan stood leaning against the cabinet.

I’d tried to be quiet, but I could tell he’d noticed me the instant I stepped into the room.

“You’re awake,” he said without looking at me. It was then I noticed how bright it was, and looked at the microwave clock to confirm the late hour.

“Yeah. Sorry about that. I must have been sleepy,” I replied.

My voice was distant, and I wished I could say it was the tension of the situation, the uncertainty, but that wasn’t it, not at all.

It was him.

Last night I’d been preoccupied, far too much to notice something as unimportant as his looks, but this morning, I couldn’t miss them. He looked amazing. Beyond. Tall body dressed in a dark suit that made him look both sexy and smart, like a businessman, but also like what he was, a dangerous criminal, an incredibly sexy one.

My body responded almost instantly as I watched him, again awed by how handsome he was. How long had it been since I’d responded to a man? Did I even remember?

I had no idea, but I didn’t pretend I didn’t feel the desire.

It annoyed the crap out of me.

People like him had gotten me into this situation, and here I was lusting after him like the whore I had so solemnly swore I would never be. That thought shook me out of my lust-induced stupor, and I crossed over to him.

“Coffee?” he said, nodding toward the pot.

“Sure. Thank you,” I said as I went to it and poured a cup.

I sipped the strong brew, let the hot coffee burn down my throat. He stayed where he was, not hiding that he was watching me. Suddenly, I felt self-conscious. I’d gotten used to leering eyes, but this look was different.

He seemed to be studying me, searching for something, and his gaze on me made me feel exposed, vulnerable, and instantly rekindled the desire I had only just managed to push down.

I needed to redirect this, and now, and I knew just the way to do that.

“What will I have to do?” I asked as I put the cup down on the cabinet.

I regretted that instantly, found myself lacking something to do with my hands, but I couldn’t turn back now, so I forced them down to my sides and kept my eyes on his, swallowing past the nerves and desire that animated me. I’d just told myself to tread carefully, that I needed to handle Ioan and this situation tactfully.

So what had I done? Blurted out the first thing that came into my silly head. True, what I would have to do, what he would expect from me were the most pressing matters, but there was a better way to broach the subject.

I wanted to groan, but instead I watched him, waiting, trying to gauge his reaction. He didn’t respond immediately, and instead watched me for one breath, another, before he finally spoke. “You know Markov will never let you go until you pay what you owe?”

Not what I’d expected him to say, but then again, reminding me that he was the only thing standing between me and Markov was effective and would make whatever he asked seem tame by comparison.

Of course, nothing in Ioan’s expression gave away what he was thinking. He simply looked at me, sipping his coffee, waiting. Which I didn’t know how to handle. I could have dealt with naked aggression, would have been on familiar ground with it. On the flip side, I would have been wary of an overt attempt to put me at ease.

But this, a straightforward question with no attempt to sway my answer, had me completely off balance. As I stood there, I couldn’t help but think of Markov and what he would do to me if I had been in a similar position. What he had done to me.

I nodded, that familiar fear coming back. Markov might not let me go ever, but there was no chance at all if he didn’t get his money. “Yeah.”

“Do you have it?” he asked.

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