Page 28 of Till Death Saves Me

14

GINNY

Ifind myself drawn to Ivan's study more and more these days. The door stands open, an unspoken invitation I can't resist. Right now, I'm curled up on the plush leather sofa, pretending to read a book while sneaking glances at him.

Ivan sits behind his massive desk, phone pressed to his ear as he speaks rapid-fire Russian. His brow furrows in concentration, and I admire the sharp line of his jaw. When did I start noticing these things about him?

He catches my eye and raises an eyebrow. I quickly look back at my book, cheeks burning. God, what is wrong with me?

"Virginia." His deep voice startles me. I look up to find him watching me, the phone call apparently finished. "You've been on the same page for twenty minutes."

I snap the book shut, flustered. "I was just... thinking."

"About the attack?" His tone softens slightly, and I'm struck by the concern in his eyes.

"No, actually." I pause, surprised by my own honesty. "I was thinking about you."

Ivan's eyebrows shoot up, and for a moment, I see a flicker of something in his expression. Surprise? Interest? But it's gone as quickly as it appeared.

"Me?" He leans back in his chair, studying me. "And what exactly were you thinking about me, Virginia?"

The way he says my name no longer irritates me. Instead, it stirs something up inside of me. But I'm not ready to go there, not with him, not yet. No matter what his sister has to say. So I answer with a quiet, "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Ivan's eyes narrow slightly. But he doesn't push. He lets it drop, something that surprises me.

Granted, everything about him has been surprising me. He's been pulling me in like gravity, making me feel safe and reassured.

And I think he knows it, too. That must be why he is home, so his little wife doesn't completely lose it. It can't possibly be more than that…

I can't help but notice the changes in Ivan lately. It's subtle, but unmistakable. Like right now, as I pretend to read my book, I catch him watching me. His gaze lingers a moment too long before he turns back to his work.

My heart races. What does it mean?

Later that evening, as we sit down for dinner, Ivan pulls out my chair. His hand brushes my lower back as I take my seat, and I want to lean into it. It's such a small gesture, but so unlike him. And yet, with each touch, I want more.

"Thank you," I murmur, meeting his eyes.

For a moment, I see something soften in his expression. The usual hardness melts away, replaced by... warmth? It's gone in an instant, but it leaves me breathless.

Throughout the meal, I find myself hyper-aware of every movement, every glance. When our hands accidentally touch aswe reach for the salt, neither of us pulls away immediately. The contact is electric.

"How was your day?" Ivan asks, his voice low and surprisingly gentle.

I blink, caught off guard by his interest. "It was... fine. Quiet."

He nods, a small frown creasing his brow. "If you need anything..."

The offer hangs in the air between us. I'm not sure how to respond. This caring version of Ivan is new territory, and I'm both thrilled and terrified by it.

As the days pass, these moments accumulate. A reassuring touch on my shoulder when I seem stressed. The way his eyes crinkle slightly at the corners when I make him laugh — and God, when did I start trying to make him laugh? How he seems to gravitate towards me in a room, always keeping me within arm's reach.

It's intoxicating and confusing all at once. Part of me wants to lean into these changes, to see where they might lead. But another part of me is scared. What if I'm reading too much into things? What if this is just another game, another way to keep me off balance?

I catch myself watching him more often, trying to decipher the enigma that is Ivan Kozlov. My husband. The man I'm supposed to hate, but who's slowly becoming someone I might actually care about.

And that terrifies me more than anything.

I can't sleep. Every shadow seems to loom larger, every creak of the house setting my nerves on edge. I've been jumpy all day, the memory of that attack still too fresh in my mind. Before I realize it, my feet are carrying me towards Ivan's study.

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