Page 63 of Devious Corruption
“Fine. But only until I find a new place to stay. One night. That’s it.” She pulls the sweatshirt together and moves to the duffle bags on the floor by the dresser. Digging out a cotton nightgown, she carries it into the bathroom to change.
I’m reading the text messages from Vas, so I don’t bother to remind her that I’ve seen everything she’s trying to hide right now.
By the time she comes back out, I’ve changed out of my jeans and button down into a pair of black cargo pants and black long-sleeved sweater.
Vas has one of the shooters and is ready for me.
“You’re leaving?”
“I am.” Marion rubs her ears against my leg, then makes her way back to bed.
“Where are you going?”
“To get some answers.”
I’m in heaven. At least that’s what my body seems to think.
This bed is like sleeping on a cloud wrapped in silk. Stretching my arm out, I nudge Marion who immediately begins mewling. She’s probably hungry.
Rolling over, I grab for my phone on the side table.
Shit. It’s almost one in the afternoon!
Shoving the silk comforter off of me, I jump out of bed. I haven’t slept this late since high school, and that was only because I had mono.
Marion does her cat stretches while watching me look around, as though there’s something I should be doing.
Except there isn’t. I’m in Lev’sbedroom. His penthouse. I have nothing to do here. No job, no chores. Nothing.
I catch a glimpse of myself in the corner standup mirror and decide a shower is a job, and one I need to do right away. My hair stands on end in every direction possible. I’m a mover when I sleep, not so much my body, but my head whips from one side to the other throughout the night, making it look as though I slept in a wind tunnel.
After tamping it down as best I can, I dig through the duffel and find a fresh set of clothes before heading into the bathroom.
Fresh towels are folded and sitting on the counter for me. Does Lev have staff, or did he leave these for me?
I should have locked the door after he left last night to be sure no one came in. But I’d been so wound up over what we’d done, I just laid down and worried myself to sleep.
Of course I worried. I’d just had sex with Lev Yakovlev.
At first I tried to tell myself I was worried that Nicolette would hate me, but there’s really no need to worry about that. She’s been trying to put the two of us together since I met them.
No, the real reason having done what I did bothers me is because it’s Lev Yakovlev. He’s the head of the arms organization for the Russian Bratva. Sleeping with him isn’t exactly consequence free; not to mention we didn’t use any sort of protection.
After a quick count of days from my last cycle, I’m less panicked about that now. At least from the pregnancystandpoint. I suppose I should ask him about other things, like when’s the last time he was tested.
I can’t imagine that a man like him doesn’t have women lining up around the block for a chance with him. He could pick any woman anywhere that he wanted. Why would he want me? Plain Jane with a little more junk in the trunk than society forgives.
Marion interrupts my current bout of worrying with herI want foodhowl from the bedroom. I quickly finish tying my hair up in a towel and drying off before I dress in a pair of jeans and a fitted black T-shirt.
A quick search of his bathroom yields a comb to run through my hair. After I slip on a pair of socks and some tennis shoes, I pick up Marion and head through the sitting room.
“I’m sure there’s something I can feed you downstairs in the kitchen.” I scratch beneath her chin and make my way through the penthouse to where I think I remember the kitchen being.
“Ms. Hartman.” One of Lev’s men, Stephan, I think, steps out from the shadows as soon as my foot hits the landing, startling me.
“Shit.” I press my hand to my chest and Marion hisses. “I didn’t see you.”
“Lev is on a phone call. Is there something you need?”
