I plastered a huge smile on my face. “It’ll pass.”
“Hmm.” The rich sound played like music, just for me. Warmth responded, spreading between my legs, and coiling to the tips of my toes. “Let me help.”
Gently, Ivan turned me back to the counter. His hands rested on my shoulder, giving me a second to pull away if I wanted.
I leaned into his touch.
That was all the permission he needed. Those strong, deadly fingers began to dig into my muscles. With practiced precision, Ivan worked the knots from my muscles.
“Isn’t it early for you to be awake?” I asked, my eyes fluttering closed.
A short laugh breathed behind me. “Would you believe me if I said I was lonely in there?”
Another pulse of heat thrummed in my core. “No. Because you can’t be lonely when asleep.”
The moment I said it, I realized it could be true.
“I wasn’t sleeping.” Ivan spoke quietly, almost as if the confession cost him. “I was staring at the ceiling.”
“Is something troubling you?” I asked kindly.
Virgin Mother, that pressure felt good. The tight muscles relaxed, the knots of tension eased.
“Yes.”
“Well?” I demanded after a pause.
Ivan brushed his fingers down my spine, while the other hand remained on my shoulder, pushing on a particularly tight spot.
“I’m being driven mad, Poppy.” That hand inched around my waist. “A slow, torturous descent into insanity.”
Yet another reason not to stay.
But I couldn’t bring myself to pull away. I didn’t want there to be distance between us. If I wasn’t holding onto the counter for dear life, I would have spun around and wrapped my arms protectively around his neck.
The instinct to comfort him was natural.
“What’s bothering you?” I insisted.
“You,” came the quick response.
I bit my lip. “Me?”
Ivan pulled me against his solid frame. I felt every hard inch of him. “I want you, more than I have wanted anything. I used to starve, you know?”
I blanched. “What?”
Ivan nodded. “There wasn’t a store, and if there was, we wouldn’t have had the money to buy anything. I used to give my food to my siblings and my grandmother, making sure they ate. I know hunger. I craved food.”
Tears sprung to my eyes.
“But that was nothing compared to wanting you.” His confession whispered against my ear.
“You don’t mean that,” I choked.
Ivan splayed his hand over my belly. “I want you the way a man needs a woman. I think of you as mine, but here you stand. In my home. Not wearing my ring. And—”
He stopped short.
