Illya
“Home sweet home.” Pushing open the door with a flourish, Carlyle sounded so excited that it banged around inside my head, and I automatically closed my eyes. His low, sultry chuckle caressed me even as the hairs on the back of my neck stood up, and I scrunched up my face. Softly putting his palm on my crown, he rubbed like I was a dog needing comfort, and the silence stretched into discomfort. “It’s okay to open your eyes, Illya. Relax. I’ve spent the past week trying to get you to not be so nervous about it.”
“You locked Mateo in his house, but you don’t wantmebeing so nervous.” My grumble sent a frigid shiver to lodge between my shoulder blades, and I cracked open one eye. Carlyle owned this whole multifunctional building. I’d guessed it was his base, but he never said so specifically. Rolling my lips between my teeth as he shrugged out of the corner of my eye, I huffed myself gingerly.
The apartment was so nice, but not lavish, and I stood in the entryway, trying to believe my eyes. A hallway with a closet protected the view into the flat, but that wasn’t what impressed me. No— it was that the paint wasn’t peeling! The hardwood floors weren’t popping up! The stench of mold wasn’t wafting in my face, and there weren’t black spots seeping through the ceiling.
I hadn’t even stepped into the place yet, but just the hallway was miles better than anywhere I’d ever lived. Forcing my knee to bend, anxiety and excitement mingled in a volatile cocktail in my bloodstream, and goosebumps swept up my leg under my jeans. This past week had been insane— I’d quit my job on Sunday, did absolutely nothing until Thursday, and gotten on a plane on Friday morning to zip across the country.
But I’d seen more of Carlyle than of Theo, and I fought a frown as I stepped over the threshold. This man was the exact opposite of his little brother, and I couldn’t get over the inherent unease I had from first sight. Everything he did to try to calm my nerves only intensified them. It all seemed so fake and two-faced. I half-expected Carlyle to throw it all back at me somehow, even though he didn’t seem like the kind to do that.
That kind of tactic was brash and abrasive, and Carlyle was the guy that’d do something horrible with tact and grace.
“So, what do you think?” Blinking hard, the question sucked me back into reality, and I glanced around at the pristine, completely unlived in living room through dazed eyes. The carpet had never been walked on, the sofa had never been sat on, and the coasters on the coffee table had never held a glass. Hoovering up a huge, stabilizing breath, I only nodded dumbly, and Carlyle practically beamed at my overwhelmed expression.
“It’s nice.” Clearing my throat roughly, I wondered how I’d gotten to this point, but my brain refused to work. Pressing his palm against my back, Carlyle led me into the kitchen off the living room, and I leaned on the low wall that served as a breakfast nook. Things had gone from about seventeen to a hundredso fast, and exhausted hallowed my cheeks and dragged down my eyelids.
“All the food gets delivered. There’s an app that you install on your phone to order and set up a time. I suggest doing it at night.”Thatgot my attention focused, and I arched a brow quizzically as Carlyle grabbed a chair, whipped it around, and straddled the back. “Everything gets checked coming in. Unlike my idiot brother, I’ve had a good number of attempts on my life, and food is the coward's golden chariot.”
“Oh.” He so casually mentioned almost being assassinated that it could’ve been comical, and I leaned on the wall to glance around the kitchen. Every cup and plate was perfectly aligned, again, never used. Everything in this apartment was brand new, and a ball of discomfort clogged my throat. “Are you gonna tell me what you really want me for?”
“Come with me.” The question had burned into my very soul these past few days, and Carlyle stood up to gesture me to follow him. Taking the short hallway alongside the kitchen, I rubbed my palms together as nerves tingled in my fingers. For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why Carlyle hadreallytaken an interest in me, and I stiffened when he whipped around. His light eyes sparkled as he held up a hand, and my mouth dried in anticipation. “I wasn’t necessarily lying when I said I wanted you for your linguistic skills. I just don’t think wasting away behind a desk is going to do me much good.”
“So . . . ” Waving my own hand impatiently at such a vague answer, I beat down my apprehension before Carlyle grabbed the doorknob directly to my right. He pushed open the barrier, flicking on the light to reveal a hugecloset.
A closet with a vanity bristling with lightbulbs and a huge assortment of makeup and neatly rowed dyes of the same brand I usually used. A closet with no walls, just racks upon racks of clothes of any kind, and amillionpairs of shoes. A closet with a fucking sound system in it that was easily twice the size of my apartment back in California.
“What thefuck?” Carlyle chuffed softly at my slur, and I tore my eyes off the incredible display to frown deeply. “What the fuck is all this? I don’t need this.”
“Yes, you do. I had someone come in and knock down a wall for this, combining two guest rooms into one. This . . . ” Gesturing with a sweep of his arm, Carlyle drew my attention back to the room, and I stepped through the doorway with goosebumps blanketing my arms. “Is your job, Illya. I told you when we met, I knowallabout you. You’re a master of disguise. From now on, you’re going to do what you’re best at, and that, my dear, isnotshaking ass for dollar bills . . . unless the situation calls for it.”
“Oh, Jesus Christ.” Whirling around, irritation bogged my chest, and my ruined skin tightened painfully as I practically stabbed Carlyle in the sternum. Without heels, he was a good five inches taller than me but still shorter than Theo, and I glared venomously as my blood simmered in my veins. “I know my mom was an undercover cop and going to the FBI for it, but I’m . . .not . . . like . . . that.”
Carlyle grabbed the base of my skull, and I sucked in a sharp breath as he pulled my face into his chest. Even as I struggled and pushed, his grip didn’t slack, and his hard muscles threatened to bruise my forehead and nose. My heart rate jacked up, and tension zinged through me when he tangled his hand in my hair to yank my head back.
“Don’t do thateveragain.” My heart nearly stopped at the low, threatening growl that reverberated to my core, and my breath caught when Carlyle leaned in close to my face. The bridge of my nose prickled wildly, and the fine hairs on my face stood up when he brushed my cheek with his lips. “This has nothing to do with your dead parents. I’ve had my eye on you for a while, Illya. I just got lucky you decided that you liked Theo’s dick more than the others and that my bitch brother got your roommate pregnant.”
Pushing me against the wall, Carlyle grabbed my leg and hoisted my knee under his elbow, and panic bled into my mind. I was wearing jeans, and he was still careful of my chest in his cold, calculated fury, but the threat of him was enough. His hazel eyes flashed as a strangled whimper escaped me, and he untangled his fingers in my hair to grab my chin.
“I don’t want to hurt you or make you uncomfortable or scared, Illya, but if you don’t do your job, I have no use for you. Two months. I’ll give you two months to get yourself in order, and then you start. Since I know you won’t stay here for nothing, and you don’t trust me, you can sit behind a desk and translate for me starting Wednesday. Enjoy your weekend.” Releasing my leg, Carlyle caressed my face even as his gaze sharpened into a knife’s edge, thin enough to split a hair. “I’ll let you know if I can’t wait that long.”
Ever so gently, he kissed me on the mouth, and shock blew my pupils as Carlyle reached between us to touch me. Goosebumps washed every inch of my body, but the fire that engulfed me as his fingers slid up my crotch outside my jeans burned too hot. His lips were dry on mine, and he nibbled my bottom lip before pulling back with a slight, knowing smirk.
“See ya later.” Rubbing my lip with his thumb, Carlyle left me with that smirk as he retreated toward the kitchen. Once he was out of my line of sight, I couldn’t look for him, and I stared blankly at the place he’d just been. Deep in the apartment, I only faintly heard the front door closing, and my lungs emptied a sputtering sigh.
