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“Because he was afraid we would hit it off and I’d seduce you away?”

I snort out a laugh. “Because his daughter was supposed to be the one to take you out, not me. Eventually, Timur would have given Rori the assignment, suggested by Pasha, of course, to either seduce you or take you out. But Mishka pissed his father and brother off, and well, we know how that ends.”

He thrusts a hand through his hair. “I can’t wrap my head around the fact that this has been going on for so fucking long. All from one man.” His gaze moves to me. “And your family gave you away to this? Did they know about this? What would happen to you?”

My words from earlier slice through me, bitter and cold. Fuck. I really need to learn to keep my fucking mouth shut.

The walls slam down, and his gaze sharpens.

“Lane?”

I push the cake away and get to my feet. “All you need to know is that any information on your family has been destroyed. Anything you don’t want known died when Pasha did.”

He stares at me, and I half expect him to push me on it, but perhaps he realizes doing so would be a very bad idea, because he finally nods. “Good. Thank you.”

I want to tell him he has nothing to thank me for, considering I’ve just lied to him, but I have no desire to deal with the endless questions that will come. Or his demands to see it.

Needing to lessen the heavy feeling, and because I don’t want to let him think I’m up for any more discussion on this, I turn away from him and say, “You should call Oleg back up and let him know he can take those dishes. And, you know, to ensure I haven’t murdered you in your sleep. I wouldn’t be surprised if he hid a camera in here just to check on you.”

Ilya blinks, clearly surprised at the abrupt change in topic. Thankfully, he takes it for the warning it is and lets it drop. Instead, he smirks. “Not really his style. He’ll simply bitch at me for bothering him. I’ll call him to come and get these, and then we can start our next discussion.”

I’m really starting to think agreeing to communicate with him was a mistake. The man is just plain gabby.

“And what might that be?” I ask warily.

“I think we need to figure out what side of the bed you want, because once it’s done, there is no switching. It’s a couples rule old as time. Save a lot of arguments when we eventually marry and it’s set in stone. Maybe we should even write it in the vows.”

I stare at him. Yeah, okay, four times a day is far too much sex for him. He’s completely lost his damn mind.

51

LANE

Ijerk awake, and only years of control and training keep me from rolling over and slamming my knife into Ilya’s neck, though every instinct is screaming at me to do it fast and get the hell out.

Instead, I turn to stare at his sleeping form. If anyone told me I was going to be in this position, I’d probably have shot them on principle. Or cut out their tongue. Hard to do that to myself, though. And I wouldn’t want to deprive anyone of what I have to say.

Even if they’re not ready to hear it.

I look at the windows on the far wall, early dawn light peeking through. It hits me hard that I’ve slept for about four hours straight. Far more than I’ve ever gotten outside my fortified walls. And I really don’t fucking like it. The danger of that, here especially, isn’t lost on me.

I blame it on the sex and food.

I ease out of the bed, padding on silent feet to the bathroom. I need to get my head clear. A quick shower and then I patrol. And maybe later today, I figure out a way to sneak the hell out of here and to my new headquarters so I can get back to work on my own things.

I have a feeling Ilya will need a break from me once he realizes all the things I’ve already set in motion. Yes, he’ll probably need some time to cool off.

The shower is blissfully warm, and I allow myself a couple of minutes to enjoy it and the silence. To get my wits about me.

Like every damn man before him, he has no concept that a woman could ever want time alone. We’re going to have to work on that.

I hear him before I see him and force myself not to growl at him. He slips into the shower and hauls me into him, his morning wood pressing against the crack of my ass.

My annoyance slides away, and despite my vagina half-heartedly protesting, I’m not going to complain about morning sex.

Ilya lowers his mouth to my neck, nipping at the crux between the base and my shoulder. “You were going to leave me in bed alone, lisichka? Were you thinking for me to take care of this myself?” He presses his cock tighter, rubbing its head against my skin.

“Is that a rule you have when a woman sleeps over? Must wake you up with your dick in her mouth?”