"No." I reached up, fingertip tracing his tense jawline. "You know what? You look even more like a pervert right now."
His breath was hot against my face, rapid and scorching. I could see fury blazing in his eyes, but strangely, I felt no fear.
"Whatever." He ground out the words.
He rolled to the far side of the bed, one arm behind his head, glaring at the ceiling.
"Kholod," I called softly. "Thank you for the gift."
The next morning, Kholod was already gone when I woke. The sheets still held his warmth and scent, proving that last night's madness hadn't been a dream.
I sat up, the necklace sliding down to my collarbone. I touched the small pendant, my lips curving involuntarily. After washing up and heading downstairs, only Anastasia and Anya were in the dining room. Kholod was obviously already handling business.
"Morning." I greeted them politely.
Anastasia looked up, her gaze lingering briefly on my throat. "Lovely necklace."
"Thank you." I sat across from her as a maid immediately served my breakfast.
Anya glanced at me. "From Kholod? He's certainly attentive to you."
"He's attentive to all his family."
Anya fell silent, and the dining room grew quiet. I started thinking about next weekend's Philadelphia Art Association gathering at Fairmont Park. I'd wanted to go since receiving the invitation, but considering Kholod's restricted list—if any banned individuals attended, would he still allow me to go?
Anxiety gnawed at me.
Go to his study and ask directly? "Kholod, I received an invitation. May I go?"—that felt too much like begging, likely earning only cold rejection or worse, that scrutinizing silence that would make me feel like a child making unreasonable demands.
Frustrated, I decided to head to the library for some peace. Perhaps I could find answers among the books, or at least temporarily forget this dilemma.
As I walked through the corridor connecting the main house to the west wing, Dmitri's familiar tall figure appeared ahead, coming from the direction of Kholod's study with a tablet in hand. We approached each other.
"Ma'am." He gave his usual expressionless nod.
"Dmitri." I nodded back, not slowing, planning to walk straight past.
But as we passed each other, he spoke in that steady, emotionless tone—casually, yet somehow deliberately. "Ma'am, regarding next week's Fairmont Park arrangements, security details have been preliminarily drafted. I'll have a car waiting for you at ten AM."
I stopped dead in my tracks, my heart clenching before racing. I spun around to face him.
Dmitri had also stopped, turning back with the same impassive expression, as if he'd merely commented on the weather.
"What did you say?"
Meeting my shocked stare, Dmitri explained. "The invitation was received and logged three days ago. When the boss reviewed this week's schedule this morning, he saw this appointment and raised no objections, instructing me to prepare your security detail in advance."
Raised no objections.
Kholod had seen the invitation. He knew I'd be attending a public event with countless strangers, and he'd permitted it.
Joy and disbelief washed away my earlier anxiety. I struggled to maintain composure, but felt my fingertips tingling.
"I... I see." I kept my voice steady. "Thank you, Dmitri."
"Just doing my job." He nodded again, then turned and walked away with measured steps.
I stood there, watching him disappear around the corner, motionless for a long time. Sunlight streamed through the tall stained glass windows, casting brilliant patterns on the floor. I reached up, touching the small pendant again—the cool metal seemed to carry warmth now.
