A gorgeous pink darkened her cheeks, further pushing me out of the realm of exhaustion.
As she backed up more, shaking her head and shyer than before, she averted her gaze. “I can wait nearby. If you need my help with your wounds…”
I didn’t reply, undoing my pants before she left, practically bolting out of the bathroom. The idea of seeing me naked was too much for her delicate personality.
I grunted a huff of wry humor.
Delicate?
Nothing seemed fragile about her. Any other maid would’ve screamed at the bloody mess. Renee had never cared to play housemaid for me.
Once I stepped into the shower and clenched my teeth at the water on my wounds, I hissed in a deep breath and willed all thoughts about this new maid out of my mind until I could get myself rested and presentable to tell my father about the unfortunate news that one of our own was the mole.
It wasn’t good news, but it was news we could be done with. The worry of someone spying was over. The problem was solved. I’d wrapped that matter up by killing Yusef, and that was that.
Maybe now I can give myself a “break” with the job well done.
I let a wicked smile curve over my face as I considered allowing myself the freedom and time to get to know my nurse-minded maid a little better than the odd introduction we’d had tonight.
4
SOFIA
While Andre showered, I did my best not to imagine it. No, not likethat. I’d only known my new “boss” for a matter of minutes, but even that was long enough for me to appreciate how fine of a dangerous man he was. Tall, rugged, fit, and muscular in a timeless way that suggested he exuded masculinity and oozed testosterone. He had that kind of an instant vibe. That sort of a magnetic draw.
Despite his labored breathing from being in pain and how he was bleeding from two wounds, I registered how much of a lure he could be.
In other circumstances.
Circumstances excluding how I couldn’t stop the worry about his slipping in the shower and being dizzier and more disoriented than he assumed he was.
Circumstances other than my fear that he’d bleed more and his wounds would require more assistance to close up and start healing.
What if he keels over and hits his head?
What if he gets tired and can’t call out for help?
What if someone else comes in here and he has to shoot them but can’t?
This guessing game sickened me, and the longer I sat perched on the edge of a chair in his humongous master’s room, I bobbed my knee anxiously. Waiting wasn’t a great skill of mine. Being held back from helping someone when I was capable of it bothered me more.
“Sofia?”
I perked up at his calling out for me. Stuck in worrying and overthinking, I hadn’t paid attention to the water being turned off. Then again, the walls weren’t thin here, like at my uncle’s residence. He’d lost too much money to have anything in the budget for upkeep in the old building. Sitting upright, I turned in the direction of the open bathroom door.
“Yes, Mr. Orlov?”
“Are you still in a helpful mood?”
Helpful how?
Now, I was struck with the other visions of him having been in that shower. With water sluicing down his chiseled body—one I’d already felt from assisting him with walking here. With his thick blond hair damp and messy from the water. With his dark, moody eyes, the blue of those orbs so powerful to grip me.
“Yes, Mr. Orlov.” I shot to my feet as he appeared in the doorway. With nothing more than a towel wrapped lethally lowon his waist, he leaned against the doorframe and heaved out a deep breath.
Dammit.
Every urge to check him out fled my mind. Hearing that harsh exhale more than proved how taxing it had been for him to shower unassisted so soon after being wounded.
