12
During the drive back to the house, Oksana asked me if I liked my job. She was trying to make small talk, but traffic was fucking awful and I told her to be quiet so I could focus.
Alek’s car was parked out front in the circle drive. I already knew he’d accessed the house—an alert had chimed on my phone five minutes before. I steered the Porsche into the garage. “We’ll put these bags in whatever room you slept in last night. That’s your room now.” I pushed open the car door and got out. “Take a shower and get cleaned up.”
We lugged the bags into the house, but she froze in the hallway leading to the stairs, and I slammed into her, nearly knocking her over.
“What the fuck?” I demanded.
Her gaze was fixated on Alek. She was probably wondering what the hell he was doing here, and I should have given her a heads-up.
“Ignore him and keep moving,” I said. “This shit is heavy.” Alek eyed the bags in our arms with interest, and then looked at me like I might be an imposter. I sighed. “You’re early. Is he here?”
Alek nodded, but his gaze went back to her. “Yeah, in the living room.”
“Okay,” I said. “Tell him I’ll be there in a minute.” I used the bags in my hands to push her forward and up the stairs. We went down the hall into the green wallpapered guest room. I dropped them with a thud in front of the closet, turned to face her, and put my hands on my hips.
She stared back, and anxiety grew large in her eyes. “What?”
“Don’t bother getting dressed after the shower. I’ll bring you my robe.” I left her standing in the room with a resigned look, went to grab my robe, and she hadn’t moved a muscle when I came back. I tossed it onto the gold brocade love seat. “I know how you girls can be. Don’t take forever.”
“Why would I?” she shot back. “It’s only my third shower in less than twenty-four hours.”
I ignored her quip and left her to it. I went downstairs and found Amit sitting on the couch, scrolling through his phone and a drink in his hand. Good. Alek was taking care of him. Amit was particular. If he wasn’t treated right, he’d go straight to my uncle.
I explained what I was looking for, and then we made small talk until I heard the pipes overhead go quiet. Her shower was over. I motioned to the stairs. “Sounds like she’s ready.”
I pushed the bedroom door open without a knock, because it was my house and I owned everything in it, and she turned to face us. Like last night, her hair had been twisted back in a messy bun and wasn’t wet. And once again, I admired the way she looked wrapped up in my robe, but I didn’t get to focus on it for long. Her face was coated in fear at the short Indian man at my side, who was at least thirty years old than either of us.
“Oksana, this is Amit. He’s a doctor.”
She backpedaled until she reached the bedpost. It was mostly hidden by the sides of the robe, but she wrapped a hand around it and clutched it for support. Her chaotic eyes darted from him to me. “I’m not sick.”
“Great,” I said. “That means it’ll be a short visit.”
Amit carried his leather bag into the room and set it on the bed, but Oksana skittered away. There was nowhere for her to go, because I stood in the doorway and blocked her in.
“Relax,” I ordered. “Amit examines every girl who . . . gets involved in the business.”
“All of your whores,” she said.
I shrugged, because what was there to say?
She watched as he pulled a blood pressure cuff out of the bag, followed by a stethoscope, but it did nothing to soothe her nerves. Anxiety rolled off her in waves.
“It’s all right, miss,” Amit said softly. “I’m only going to make sure you are healthy. It will just take a few minutes.”
Or a lot longer if she fought me on this. I was really hoping to avoid calling Alek up here to help me hold her still. That’d make everything more difficult, and I didn’t want him to see her when she was fucking naked. Amit I could tolerate. He was a doctor.
“Oksana.” She’d been obedient up until now, but I sensed this was her breaking point. “He’s not going to hurt you.” I weighted my voice, even though she was smart and had no reason to trust me. “You have my word.”
Her shoulders were so tense, they were practically up to her ears. Her expression was both icy cold and fiery rage, and I watched her hands curl into tight, white-knuckled balls. A deep breath was drawn in, and blown out slowly as her eyes closed. “If I do this, I want something in return.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Like, two grand worth of clothes?”
Her eyes popped open and zeroed in on me. “Hire someone to tune the piano.”
A half of a laugh erupted from me, but she didn’t smile, and I sobered. “Oh, shit, you’re serious? No.”
“Why not?”
Because bringing strangers into my house was dangerous. I could literally be inviting the FBI inside and offering them a million places to stick a surveillance device. This was my safe haven. The only place I could truly be me.
Amit chose that very fucking moment to pull the rest of his shit out of the bag and lay it on the bed. Latex gloves, an alcohol swab packet, a packaged syringe . . . and an ampule. Oksana gasped like I’d slammed my fist into her stomach and her accusatory glare cut right through me.
She thought I was going to drug her.
“That’s not what you think,” I said quickly. “It’s so I don’t knock you up.”
Her blue eyes looked at me like I was a piece of shit, and I didn’t blame her for the reaction. I’d told her if she left me and went to the Russians, they’d pump her full of drugs. To her, it sure as shit looked like that was what I planned to do.
I grimaced. “Okay, fine. I’ll get someone to fix the fucking piano. All right?”
It was ridiculous I was negotiating with her. The girls at Mira’s didn’t have a problem with Amit. Actually, they loved the guy and teased him ruthlessly.
Oksana glared at him, still clearly full of suspicion. “That’s birth control you’re planning on injecting me with?”
He nodded. “If you are healthy and have good blood pressure, then yes, miss.”
A reluctant decision was made, and her shoulders slumped. “Fine. Let’s get it over with.”
I grasped the doorknob and began to back out of the room—
“Vasilije,” she cried.
The sharp way she said my name made me freeze. I stared at her with concern. “What?”
“You’re going to leave me? With this strange man, who’s . . .” Her eyes accused me of betrayal. The fight in her was gone, and her voice was broken. “Who’s . . . going to touch me?”
Oh, fuck.
I hadn’t even thought about it. An invisible hand wrapped around me and squeezed, sending all the pressure to my head. I stepped into the room, closed the door, and moved toward her. My voice was uneven. “I thought you’d want privacy.”
It was a bullshit excuse. I hadn’t been trying to leave to make her comfortable, I’d been doing it to avoid it being awkward for me. A strange sensation twisted inside my gut. What the fuck was it? Guilt?
And why did she want me to stick around? The idea she was more comfortable with me inside the room instead of outside it, made everything upside-down. Even more bizarre, I sort of liked how she wanted me near.
The relief that swept through her caused a pinch in my chest, making it hard to talk. Which was fine. I had no idea what to say. I stood beside the bed as she sat down on the edge of it and pushed up the sleeve of the robe, bunching it at her shoulder.
Amit donned his stethoscope, wrapped the pressure cuff tightly around her bicep, and began to take her vitals.
“Are you on any medication?” he asked, squeezing the balloon, and the needle on the gauge leapt upward.
“No.”
“Do you smoke?”
“No.”
“When was your last period? Are you regular?”
Oksana’s gaze was fixed forward, staring at nothing. “A week ago, and yes.”
Well, fuck. Here was another thing I hadn’t thought about, because I didn’t have a mother, or sisters, or even a serious girlfriend. Women had periods, and they needed stuff for that. Maybe Addison had left some girl shit in the house after she and Luka moved out. I made a mental note to handle that situation later.
Amit watched the needle fall slowly on the gauge and then pulled the cuff off with a loud, scratching rip of Velcro. “Excellent. Any medical history for you or your family I should know about? Blood clots? Strokes?”
“No.”
“Good.” He dipped the head of the stethoscope between the V at the top of the robe and listened to her heart. “Deep breath.” He moved the stethoscope to a new spot. “Again.”
After a pause, he seemed satisfied.
Amit straightened, pulled the stethoscope from his ears, and slung it around his neck. It was a gesture he’d been doing for thirty years, and the last twenty of it for my family. Was Addison, studying at Johns Hopkins, doing this same thing right now? It was good she and Luka got out when they did. My uncle would have forced her to work for him. He’d love to have another doctor in the organization to make late-night house calls. One who would treat gunshot wounds without filing a state-required police report.
“Very good,” Amit said. He gave Oksana a pleasant smile as he picked up the latex gloves and began to put them on. “Now, miss, I need you to move back, lie down, and open your robe.”
Her breath left her in a sharp burst. She shot her hand out and latched it onto my wrist, where her grip was ferocious. Her gaze stayed forward, not looking at anything as she lowered down, and it exaggerated how rapidly she was breathing. How violently she was trembling. I had the ridiculous idea she clung to my arm, as if holding onto me might make another man’s touch bearable.
Something inside me cracked.
When Amit’s hands reached for the knot of her robe, her grip tightened and it squeezed the word from me. “Stop.”
He froze at my command.
My mouth was dry and my tongue felt too big, but I got the sentence out. “We’ll skip this part.”
The doctor blinked with confusion. “But downstairs, you said you wanted—”
“I changed my mind,” I snarled. Goddamn it. I scooped my free hand under her and lifted until she stood in my arms. I had to wrap both around her because she was too startled to stand on her own. Her chaotic blue eyes reeled around and found mine. I had no idea what expression was on my face, but hers softened. She was wordlessly thanking me for saving her.
I was a prick.
I tore my gaze away and stared at Amit’s forehead and receding hairline. “Are you finished? Can she get the shot and be done?”
I was all fucked up. A brat who wanted to make sure his new toy was legitimately new, and not just advertising it. Even after Amit had warned me it might be impossible to tell, I’d demanded he check her virginity. He’d lectured me about the misconception of hymens and how often they broke or wore away, sometimes years before sex, but I still insisted. I wanted proof. I wanted to know if I was going to claim her virginity like a sick trophy.
The worst part was I knew she wasn’t lying. The girl was so clearly a virgin from the way she thought sex wasn’t about power to how she recoiled from a simple touch. She’d been on the verge of a nervous breakdown ten seconds ago when Amit reached for her.
As he tore open the plastic and paper around the syringe and prepared the shot, I shifted her in my embrace. Her eyes were vibrant blue, like Lake Michigan on a summer day. She drew in a deep breath through her nose as I felt the bottom of the robe moving. Her hands settled on my chest, softly clutching at my dress shirt.
“Vasilije, can you hold this?” Amit asked, pressing the bunched fabric in my hand that was at the small of her back. He needed me to hold it out of his way so he could slide his needle into the muscle of one of her cheeks. My gaze didn’t waver from hers as I gripped the plush fabric. I could see every action in her expressive eyes. The smell of alcohol filled the room as he wiped the swab over her skin and she flinched, probably at the cold.
“Small pinch,” he said.
Her pupils widened as the needle went in, but the Russian girl was deadly silent.
Plastic snapped, covering the needle, and then a Band-Aid was put in place. “All done.”
I let go of the robe, dropping it to cover her exposed skin. She’d been leaning into me for support, but as she solidified, she didn’t move away. I didn’t either.
When Amit had everything packed up in his bag, he looked at me, expecting me to usher him downstairs so he could get paid. I hesitated. “I’ll be down in a minute.”
He nodded, and left us alone. The second the door clicked shut, the tension between Oksana and me spiked so intensely, I couldn’t move. What was happening? How the hell did this girl have such an effect on me? I stood paralyzed as she inched closer, rising onto her toes. She was so close, I could smell the faint hint of the soap she’d used in the shower. Her fingers slid slowly up until she had them laced together behind my neck.
Oksana was about to kiss me, but I met her halfway and our lips collided. Her kiss was a fist wrapped in velvet. I kept my defenses down and let her deliver one blow after another. Kiss after soft, gentle kiss, lulling me in. I wouldn’t feel the damage until it was too late.
“Thank you,” she whispered against my lips. She was thanking me for stopping him.
It jolted me from my stupor, and I shoved her back. “Don’t.”
She pressed her fingertips to her kiss-swollen mouth, checking to see if my lips were still attached to hers, and when she discovered they weren’t, surprise washed over her. “Don’t kiss you,” she asked, “or don’t thank you?”
“Either.” Fuck, I needed to get out of this room where I’d lost all control. Put some distance between us and figure out how to get my shit together. My face turned to stone. “Get dressed. I don’t care what you wear as long as it’s something I bought.”
Her shoulders drew back at my abrupt change in attitude, and confusion splashed on her face, but I wasn’t going to explain myself. I turned and high-tailed it out of the room, trying to flee the uncomfortable sensation in my chest I hadn’t experienced in years.
It felt a lot like shame.