Chapter Three
Penelope
“Penny!” The loud whisper from my sister has me opening one eye to look at her.
“What?” I moan, pulling the pillow over my head.
I debate whether to use the same trick my parents did with us when they went from a king-size bed to a full so we couldn’t sleep with them anymore. Though I would have to get a twin to get Pandora out of mine.
“I’m hungry.” Her words come out in a pout. I don’t even have to see her face to know the expression she’s making right now.
“And the sky is blue.” I roll over and pull the pillow off my head, looking at my alarm clock. The damn thing hasn’t even gone off yet. She’s always hungry “What the flip, Pan? It’s not even time to get up.” I throw the pillow at her. She catches it easily and tosses it back on the bed.
“I gotta go in early. Forgot to finish up my paper for art history, and I need those stupid books in the library.”
This isn’t shocking. Pandora hates homework. If she could skate by on tests she would be golden. This year we didn’t get any of the same classes, so she doesn’t have me reminding her about what’s due anymore.
“What do you want?” I ask, pulling myself from the bed.
“Bacon and pancakes,” I hear her say from behind me. “Oh, and scrambled eggs with—”
“I know how you like your eggs,” I tell her, cutting her off. I’ve been making this family breakfast almost every morning since I was old enough to be in the kitchen alone.
“You rock!” she yells, running from my room to get ready.
I make my way to the kitchen and start breakfast, and I work on packing everyone’s lunch at the same time. Today I make tomato turkey sandwiches with a sweet glaze on slices of fresh bread.
“Sweetheart,” my dad greets me, coming into the kitchen and placing a kiss on top of my head.
“Hey, Dad. Bacon and pancakes today,” I tell him, handing him a plate.
He gives me another kiss on the head before sitting down at the breakfast bar and digging in. My mom walks in the kitchen a few minutes later, and my dad is on his feet, pulling her chair out for her then giving her a deep kiss. I roll my eyes but smile as I go back to packing everyone lunches.
My parents can be a little too PDA for me at times, but I wouldn’t want them any other way. My dad and mom were made for each other, and I hope one day I find that, too. An image of Ivan from the night before flutters through my mind, as do some of the dreams I’d had about him. My cheeks start to heat as I remember them, particularly the one of him kissing me over and over again. And the one where I trace his tattoos, though the images of that one are fuzzy, which means I might need to get a better look at them.
I’m thankful I’m not facing my parents so they can’t see the blush lighting up my face.
“Lock it up.”
I jump, not realizing Pandora walked into the room. She’s eating a piece of bacon while her eyes narrow on me.
“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” I glare back at her, handing her a to-go plate she can eat in the car on her way to school.
“I’m watching you,” she mouths, and I have to bite back my retort: so what’s new? She takes the plate from me before going over to my parents and telling them goodbye. She throws her hand up in a wave on the way out.
“Did she forget to finish something?” my mom asks me, and I nod.
Dad chuckles. They can’t really get mad at her. She might not like school, but she’s always pulled straight A’s. We both do, even at one of the toughest private schools in the country.
Since we’re both great in school and don’t give them too much grief, our parents are pretty good about giving us free rein as long as we keep a guard with us. Rules loosened up a lot since we turned eighteen. And then when Pandora punched Ethan, a boy at prom who tried to kiss me, that gained us some more freedom. I cringe at the memory.
I bet Ivan could take a punch and not even care. He doesn’t seem like he would run scared after like Ethan did. He was a nice enough boy, but I wasn’t ready for how handsy he was getting, and Pandora knew right away. Then I start to wonder what it would be like if it were Ivan making the same moves…
“We’ll be a little late tonight, honey,” Mom says, shaking me out of my fantasy. She comes around and puts her dish in the sink. “Thank you for breakfast.”
“Will you be home in time for dinner?”
“Don’t you have finals to study for?” she asks as my dad comes to stand behind her. He wraps an arm around her, and she melts into him.
“Yeah, but cooking always helps me relax,” I remind her. I know they always feel a little guilty that I cook for everyone, but I love it. It’s one of my favorite things to do. That’s why Pandora knew I would get out of bed this morning to make her something to eat.
“You know I can’t turn down your cooking.” Mom leans in and gives me another kiss. “Do me a favor, Penelope, and don’t be hard on the new guy.” She levels me with a stare.
“Who, me?” I bat my lashes, which makes my dad laugh.
“I wonder where she got this thing for ditching her guards,” Dad says right before Mom elbows him. My dad fakes like he’s hurt. “You’re going to kiss that later.”
“Okay, you two need to go to work,” I say, handing them their lunches. I don’t want to hear their flirting. Dad gives me a hug and another kiss on the head before leaving the kitchen. I smile as they depart, and then I turn around to make my own plate.
I grab my phone and start up some music on it. After I find a song I like, I start dancing a little as I take a few bites of my food. I look around the kitchen to make sure I have stuff to make tacos for dinner tonight, wondering when Ivan will get here. As soon as the thought pops into my head, I turn around and freeze when I see him standing in the backyard, staring at me.
My breath catches as our eyes meet. Today he’s in black slacks and a buttoned-up white collared shirt. The sleeves are rolled up, and I can see a bit more of his tattoos today. There’s still so much of him that’s hidden, but I think that’s part of the attraction.
I can’t pull my eyes from him as he starts to move towards me. I’m rooted in place as his long, thick legs eat up the distance between us. He stops at the glass doors that line the far wall of our kitchen, then he slides the door open and lets himself right in.
I lick my lips as he closes it and leans up against it. His eyes never leave mine, and he doesn’t utter a word. I don’t know how long we stand there until I’m finally able to pull enough air into my lungs to say something.
“Hungry?” I nod to the food that’s sitting on the kitchen counter. It’s not normal for us to have leftovers, but everyone seemed to be in a hurry this morning, so there’s plenty for him.
“You’d feed me?” Ivan asks, his dark eyebrows pulling together as if he’s confused. It’s then I hear an accent that I think is Russian. His voice is seriously deep. Deeper than any voice I’ve ever heard before.
“It’s kinda my thing. I feed people around here,” I tease, finding a little more of my voice again. Jesus, what is wrong with me? I’m never tongue-tied when I’m around guys, but Ivan is different. He’s head to toe man, and this instant attraction is something I’ve never experienced before.
He steps farther into the room, so I grab a plate and serve him some of the food. When I turn around he’s standing right behind me. I have to look up at him. His inscrutable dark eyes are locked on me.
“Sorry, there’s only one piece of bacon left. I’m shocked there’s even that,” I say, a little more breathily than I mean to.
I feel a tug on the plate, and I let go, knowing he grabbed it. I don’t look down to see because our eyes remain locked.
“I would eat anything you served me,” he says simply, and I feel myself blush.
The thought of other things he could eat enters my mind, and I have to turn around. I don’t want to get caught thinking of such a dirty image, because I feel like he can read it all over my face. Oh. My. God. Something is wrong with me.
I start cleaning up the kitchen, trying to distract myself with something, anything. As I grab a plate in the sink, he reaches out, taking it from my hand.
“You cooked for me, I will clean for you.”
I should probably tell him that we have someone who comes in and does this for us. I was only doing it because I was trying to stay busy in an effort to not make a fool of myself.
“Perhaps you should get dressed.”
His eyes travel down my body, and embarrassment floods me. It’s then I realize I’m in sleep shorts that are more like underwear and a Harry Potter shirt that says I’m up to no good It’s so faded it’s almost see through. At one time it belonged to my mom, but I love it so much because I remember her reading the books to Pandora and me when we were little. She wore it all the time until I stole it about five years ago.
“Okay,” I whisper, and then I actually do something my guard told me to do. I turn to leave, but he grabs my wrist. I stop short and stand there, with him holding on to me. I look into his dark eyes, and I’m unable to move. There’s so much there that I can’t read, but I recognize one thing for sure.
“Are you up to no good, krasotu?” The low words rumble from his chest, and they vibrate through me.
I lick my lips, wondering what that word means. I’m surprised by his question. There’s an edge of danger in it, and it doesn’t feel like he’s only asking as a concerned guard looking out for me.
“I guess you’ll have to find out for yourself,” I whisper before pulling my arm from him and leaving the room.
I feel his eyes on my back the whole time, and I remember what I saw there. It was like nothing I’d ever seen before, and I want it again. No man has ever looked at me like that before.
With pure desire.