“I am here.” Whisking sounds of friction followed his motions of drying off.
“Right. Yeah. You’re here.” I swallowed, tormented with the lure of looking up at his huge cock, then up the lines of his abs, over his pecs, then his neck and his smirking face.
Desire swirled within me as the steam from his shower dissipated. I fought not to want him. I resisted this stubborn lust he inspired in me. Hiding it was futile, and I settled on praying he wouldn’t notice. Or if he did, he wouldn’t tease me about it.
I wanted him so badly, even though I knew I shouldn’t be desiring someone like him. I was a hostage, a temporary fixture in his life until he found Steven and killed him. He wasn’t a man I could count on forever, but at this moment, heated up and so full of longing for that deep bliss he’d pushed me to, I wondered if it would be so bad to tell him this truth. That I wanted him to the point of pain.
“So…” He tossed his towel to the side of the room, not at all modest. Passing me, he brushed against my side as he picked up boxers and gray sweatpants on the vanity that he must have placed there before his shower.
He was a hard man, but also comfortable in his skin to be naked and open to showing me what I was missing out on.
He has to know.There was no chance he’d missed the latent desire in my gaze, and it convinced me that he had to be taunting me on purpose. Not reaching out to me but tormenting me with a visual of what I couldn’t have.
I came here with a clear mission. I had the goal of speaking as soon as possible, wanting to be completely upfront and honest with him. If I was amenable and cooperative, he had to value that more than when I was stubborn and fighting him. I didn’t want to just be an imprisoned hostage here, stuck with no options. Being idle didn’t suit me. If I could help, I would.
“I wanted?—”
Emily’s cries reached me. No matter how new this place was, I was attuned to my daughter. With a sigh, I headed out of his room and went to tend to her before she’d wake up Margie, too.
I hadn’t counted on Ivan to follow me. He did, quietly and patiently. Once I picked up a pouty and fussy Emily from the crib Ivan had provided her, he closed the door to her room behind him.
“Sorry.”
He huffed a laugh, watching me hold Emily and pace with her, bouncing in my step to calm her. Every time I extended my thumb, bracing my hand on her back, I felt the residual twinge of that cut on my skin from the broken glass. Then the dig of my necklace as Emily reached up and grabbed the thin length, tugging it down against my neck. One of these days, she’d be strong enough to snap it, and I didn’t have the money to buy a replacement for the chain. Taking it off wasn’t an option, though. I only had this to remember my grandma by.
Emily’s cry interrupted me from speaking. Being in her room helped to tame this lust I shouldn’t have had for Ivan, too.
“You don’t have to apologize for her. She’s only a baby.”
“A fussy baby.”
“Did Margie help?” he asked as he sat in the plush chair across from her crib.
“She did. Thank you.”
He dipped his chin in acknowledgment as he watched me.
“Not only did she help with Emily and gave me a chance to nap, but she also…” I walked toward him, reaching into the pocket of my thin robe for my phone. He accepted it, brows raised. “She also helped me record what I could of a call from Steven.”
I rattled off Emily’s birthdate, the passcode, and he tapped it in. “He called earlier, and I wanted to record it for you to listen to.”
Over and over, he played the video I’d hastily thought to record of the call on my phone. Margie texted me the video, and I was glad I had it available for Ivan to listen to. Each time I heard it start over, I cringed internally at the sound in Steven’s voice. Cruel. Calculating. Selfish. My anger boiled hot once more at the thought that my father would set up a thug to take Emily like that. To pose her any harm at all.
Ivan listened carefully, narrowing his eyes and not moving as he repeated the short exchange. I didn’t interrupt, settling Emily as she clung to my necklace and let me soothe her with walking back and forth.
He set my phone on the small table and regarded me. “What time did he call?”
“The time is in my call log. 4:54.”
“What did he say before you recorded?”
I licked my lips, thinking back. “More of the same. Wanting to know where I was. Where you were. I hurried to record it as soon as possible. The ringtone of his call woke me right out of a nap.”
He rubbed his chin, looking at the wall before sighing. “What was that about falling in love? What did he mean when he teased you about falling in love with ‘this man’ too?” Pointing at himself, he raised his brows. “Should I assume he meant me?”
I nodded, then rolled my eyes as another hit of a blush swept over my cheeks. “He said it to get a rise out of me. To taunt me. He always told me that I’d never find a man who would want me.”
He watched me closely, adding more suspense to this quiet. I was put on the spot and didn’t like it.