Maybe not. But I can feel them now. I’ve tasted the danger.
I glance toward my bedroom door, half expecting it to open. It doesn’t. The only thing that greets me is the low thrum of the building.
I can’t shake the feeling that something is moving toward me, something big, unstoppable, and already too close to turn away from.
CHAPTER 13
GABBY
It’s hours later, and I should be asleep.
Instead, I’m up in my room, unpacking my clothes from the boxes Bogdan finally cleared to send up. It’s a weird feeling to put all of my stuff, everything from my old place, my old life, away in this room.
Though I’m grateful for the protection, I’m angry that I even need it in the first place. I never asked for any of this.
I go into the bathroom and pour myself a glass of water and try to shake it off. But anger still hums under my skin like static, refusing to die down.
I go back to my room and check the time on my phone. It’s a little after eleven. I want to sleep so badly, but I know the second I lay my head down, my thoughts will just start racing again.
A soft chime sounds through the apartment. The elevator.
My heart leaps and I shake my head in annoyance. The stupid truth is that Sasha’s the only person I’ve wanted tosee today. And he’s finally home. I take one more sip of my water before heading toward the sound of his arrival.
I hear the doors open, followed by heavy, measured footsteps I’d recognize anywhere. As much as I don’t want to admit it, I’ve got a big, stupid smile on my face as I make my way closer and closer to the main room.
His voice carries through the space, a low mutter as he talks with someone—Bogdan, probably. A clipped order, then a quiet dismissal.
Classical music starts drifting through the apartment. When I reach the end of the hallway, I pause, laying eyes on him.
Sasha’s by the bar, jacket off, sleeves rolled to his elbows. His tie’s undone, but not enough to make him look totally relaxed. His shirt pulls across his shoulders, lamplight painting his face with sharp lines. He looks composed and dangerous and sexy as hell.
Just the sight of him standing there is enough to make my pussy clench.
I watch him for a bit, watch as he mixes a drink, takes a sip, strolls over slowly to the floor-to-ceiling windows, and gazes out onto the city. There’s something magnetic about just watching Sasha move. Between him and the music, I’m in something of a trance.
“You’re awake.”
I clear my throat and try to look as frustrated as I feel. “Hard to sleep when you’re forcibly relocated. And insulted. Oh, and not to mention, almost killed.”
He turns slowly. “You’re safe here.”
“Define safe.” I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help be a little bit of a smartass. It’s my nature.
He doesn’t take the bait. Instead, he lifts his drink and nods toward the giant, square coffee table. I hadn’t notice on the way in, but my proposal’s there.
“I read your draft.”
My pulse jumps. “And?”
“It’s good,” he says. Then, after a sip, almost lazily: “But it can be better.”
In that instant, every bit of restraint I’d been holding cracks. Of course, it can be better. Nothing’s ever good enough for him. I cross my arms, chin tilted high. “You’d find problems in theMona Lisagiven a chance.”
Sasha doesn’t even blink. “I want perfection. That’s not something I’ll apologize for.”
“It is when it’s just control with a different name.”
His eyes somehow darken ever further. They’re focused, sharp but not quite angry. “You think I want control for its own sake?”
