Once we’re through the kitchen, we take the stairs two at a time. He keeps hold of my hand the entire way down. My heels are a bad idea, so I kick them off on one of the landings and carry them. Lev looks at the shoes, then at me.
“Good girl,” he praises before he can stop himself.
I glare at him and wave my heels. “Say that again, and I’ll stab you with one.”
His mouth curves for real this time. “There she is.”
He pushes through the final door into the service alley.
A black car idles at the curb, and Ruslan stands beside the rear door in a dark coat.
His gaze sweeps over me first, then Lev. “What’s she doing here?”
Lev opens the car door. “Drive.”
Ruslan looks at my bare feet and the heels in my hand. “Nice shoes, Doctor.”
“Fuck off,” I mutter.
He snorts and gets behind the wheel.
Lev guides me into the back seat and slides in after me, shutting the door with a thud that makes me jump. Ruslan pulls away from the curb before I can even set my shoes down.
Only then do my hands start shaking.
I stare at them, furious.
Lev sees it. He reaches for me slowly, giving me a chance to refuse. His hand settles on my knee, then moves higher, up mythigh under the edge of my coat, warm and steady and far too intimate for the state I am in.
“Look at me,” he prompts.
I do.
“You’re okay.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I know you’re with me.”
“Do not make that sound comforting after the shit you pulled last week.”
He strokes his thumb once over my thigh, and my breath catches hard enough to make me blush.
Ruslan’s eyes meet mine in the mirror for half a second. “I can’t hear anything over the road, so if you two want to bite each other, do it quietly.”
“Drive the car,” Lev orders.
“Iamdriving the car.”
I should move Lev’s hand, put space between us, and ask questions until he gives me real answers.
Instead, I grab his wrist and hold him there.
His eyes darken.
“Polina.”
“Don’t talk.” If he keeps using my name in that voice, I’m going to climb into his lap while his driver watches traffic.
