“Nikolai.”
The way he says my name makes me forget how to breathe.
“Yes?”
“I don’t know what to do with you.”
The admission costs him something. I can see it in the tension around his eyes. The Accountant always has a plan. The Monster always knows the next move. But the man sittingbeside my cot with my hand pressed to his scar has no protocol for this.
“You could keep me,” I say. “That seems to be the current plan.”
“The current plan is temporary. Ivan will eventually require a permanent resolution.”
“Then we deal with Ivan when he becomes a problem.” I turn my hand under his, so we’re palm to palm. “Right now, you’re here. I’m here. That’s enough.”
His eyes search my face.
“The food was good,” I say, because the silence is becoming too heavy. “Even if you did only give me half a meal.”
The corner of his mouth twitches. The ghost of a smile.
“Your stomach required time to adjust. The remaining portions will be provided at appropriate intervals.”
“So you’re coming back.”
“Yes.”
“Soon?”
He looks at our hands, still pressed together. He doesn’t let go.
“Yes,” he says again. “Soon.”
He stands. The motion breaks our contact, and I feel the loss like a physical ache. But he pauses, and his bare hand brushes my cheek in a gesture that has nothing to do with maintenance.
“Rest,” he says.
But he doesn’t move. His hand is still in mine.
“Don’t go,” I say. “Not yet. Please.”
He looks at our joined hands. At my face.
“This is inadvisable,” he says. But his voice lacks conviction.
“Everything about this is inadvisable.” I pull gently on his hand. “Stay anyway.”
He lets me pull him down until he’s sitting on the edge of the cot, his thigh pressed against my hip.
“Nikolai—”
I kiss him.
It’s clumsy—I’m weak and he’s startled. But his mouth opens against mine, and suddenly clumsy doesn’t matter.
His free hand comes up to cup my jaw, tilting my head for a better angle. The kiss deepens. His tongue slides against mine, and I moan into his mouth.
“We shouldn’t,” he murmurs against my lips. But his hand is already moving down my neck, my chest, pushing aside the smock.
