“Disinfecting,” I say calmly.
“That’s bullshit.”
“Da.”
I lower her hand and reach for proper supplies. Antiseptic, gauze, tape. I wrap her palm neat and tight, focusing on the task and not on the way her breathing has gone shallow.
When I’m done, I pull a grey silk scarf from the drawer and tie it over the bandage, smooth and snug around her wrist.
“There,” I say. “Pretty.”
Her eyes snap up to mine. “You’re insane.”
“Probably.” My hand slides to her hip before I can stop it. She’s close. One more step and she’d be in my lap. “You’re shaking.”
“It’s the pain.”
“Mm.” I curl my fingers at the back of her neck, feel the fine hairs there stand up. “Tell yourself that if it helps.”
At my touch, she sucks in a breath.
“Stop,” she says quietly. “Please. I can’t think when you— when you do that.”
“That’s the point.” I lean back a little, still holding her. “Listen carefully, Anya. I promised not to touch you until you ask. I meant that. But I’ll make waiting a special kind of hell. You don’t get one without the other.”
Her jaw clenches. “I will never ask.”
“Not yet.” I release her, stand up, and move to the door. “Go get dressed for dinner. High neck. Low heels. Nothing that makes Dmitri think he’s allowed to imagine you naked.”
She glares. “He’s going to imagine it anyway.”
“I know.” I let my eyes slide down her body, slow and obvious. “So do I. The difference is, he dies if he tries anything.”
She leaves in a hurry. Smart girl.
When the door closes, I lean on the back of my chair and suck in a breath like I just went ten rounds. The taste of her blood still sits on my tongue.
“Fuck,” I mutter.
There’s a knock. Luka strolls in without waiting for permission, because he’s earned that right more than once.
“You look like you’ve swallowed a grenade,” he says, dropping into the armchair opposite my desk. “Everything all right with the new lab?”
“She broke a beaker.”
“I know. I watched the security feed.” His mouth curves. “You licking her hand wasn’t strictly necessary first aid, boss.”
“Watch your mouth.”
He raises his hands in mock surrender. “Just saying. Woman’s not even twenty-four hours under this roof, and you’re already making terrible decisions.”
“They’re controlled,” I snap. “I know what I’m doing.”
He snorts. “Sure. That’s exactly what you said in Novosibirsk before you fucked the arms dealer’s wife in his own house.”
“That was different.”
“Was it?” He stands, straightens his jacket. “Chechens are already asking about her. Dmitri, especially. He did his homework. Knows about the PhD, the patents, the little humanitarian streak. He thinks she’s cute.”
