I glared. He laughed again, the tension in the room easing for one brief moment.
Andrei moved to the table and opened his laptop with a decisive click. I slid into the chair beside him.
“Let’s burn their tower down,” I grinned.
Andrei’s smile widened, turning lethal. “We will.” Then he scrunched his nose as he scooted his chair a little further away from me.
“After I shower,” I muttered, finally admitting defeat.
He chuckled. “Yes, please. Before the paint starts peeling off the walls.”
I kicked his shin, and for the first time in hours, I felt almost like myself again.
The shower in the safehouse was really nice, with steamy hot water, decent pressure, and tiles that weren’t cracked or stained with questionable history. It didn’t erase the grime of the drainage tunnels instantly, but the steam helped loosen the knots in my shoulders.
It also didn’t stop my thoughts from spiraling about Viktor. I hoped he was okay. I hoped they weren’t hurting him. Revenantwasn’t known for their mercy, especially when it came to interrogations and my stomach tightened just thinking about it.
I scrubbed every inch of my body, like soap and enthusiasm could make the problem smaller.
I shut off the water and stood there dripping, breathing hard, trying to center myself. Stress made my pulse race. Made my mind scatter. Made me want things that had nothing to do with planning a rescue and everything to do with sex.
And I knew exactly who was sitting outside this bathroom waiting for me like the responsible Dragunov he pretended to be.
I towel-dried quickly, put on fresh clothes—a loose black shirt and yoga pants—and finger-combed my hair. It wasn’t perfect, but I wasn’t trying to impress anyone. I just needed to feel like I was back in control of something. Anything.
When I stepped back out into the main living room, Andrei looked up from the laptop. His eyes flicked over me once, careful, respectful, but with a glimmer of amusement he couldn’t hide. His mouth tugged slightly. Just slightly.
“Feel better?” he asked.
“No,” I said. “But I’m cleaner.”
“That’s… a huge improvement.” He tapped a key. “Come here. I pulled up internal schematics for Revenant’s tower. Maybe?—”
“Later.”
He blinked. “Later?”
“Yes, Andrei. Later.” I walked over, planted my hands on the table, and stared him down. “Because right now, I am two seconds from climbing the walls with stress. And you’re sittinghere, acting like you’re going to solve this all by yourself, and it’s deeply irritating.”
His brows lifted, amused. “So, this is my fault?”
“Yes,” I snapped. “Entirely. Fix it.”
He leaned back in the chair, arms crossing, grin forming in that slow, dangerous way the Dragunovs possessed. “Fix it how?”
I narrowed my eyes. “You know how.”
“Oh, I do.” He nodded slowly. “I just like hearing you say it.”
I let out a noise that wasn’t quite a growl. “Andrei Dragunov, if you make me ask?—”
He stood. Smooth and confidently. Like he’d been waiting for exactly this moment.
I didn’t give him time to speak.
I grabbed the front of his shirt, yanked him down to my height, and kissed him hard enough to stop both our racing minds.
He froze for one startled heartbeat, then kissed me back, slow at first, careful, letting me set the pace, at least at first. His hand cupped the side of my face, thumb brushing the corner of my mouth in a touch that made my knees go weak.
