45
CORA
Ivan walks my dad out. I retreat into our bedroom and try to keep myself from crumbling.
I’m not that scared little girl living on the streets with her mom. I’m not that terrified teenager trying to disappear into the wallpaper at Alexander McAllister’s house.
I’m a different person in a different world. I’ve changed.
But that doesn’t make any of this easier to process.
I curl up on the bed, hugging my pillow to my chest. Sitting outside felt like being in a fishbowl. I don’t want to be on display. I want to be alone.
At least, I think I do. Until I hear the door open and feel a familiar dip in the mattress behind me. Suddenly, all I want is to be wrapped in Ivan, cocooned in his scent and protected from the outside world.
He drapes his arm over my hip. His warmth soaks through my shirt, melting away the chill my dad left behind.
“Are you okay?” he whispers.
The tenderness in his voice makes my eyes water. I squeeze them closed and nod. “I’m okay.”
“I knew you were, but I needed to make sure you knew it, too.”
I roll over so I’m facing him. Even when I’m prepared to be close to him, it always takes me by surprise. The scent of his skin, the feel of him against me, the closeness of his mouth—all of it is intoxicating in a way I’ve never felt before. It’s a struggle to think straight.
“What does that mean?”
He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “It means that you’re strong. You’ve been through a lot worse than a meeting with your dad. I wouldn’t have brought him here if I didn’t think you could handle it. I’m glad you know how strong you are, too.”
I hear my dad’s voice in my head. If he thought I was a bad guy, would he have let me into his house?
“You could have told me he was coming.” I sigh. “I’m not mad, but I’m not not mad. I’ve had enough surprises for a lifetime.”
He runs a finger down my spine. “If I’d told you, would you have agreed to see him?”
“The only reason I agreed to it is because of you. If you’d told me and then asked me to meet with him, I would have done it.” Ivan arches a skeptical brow and I wilt slightly. “I would have… considered it.”
He snorts. “You would have flat-out refused. And I understand that. My dad didn’t abandon me and I still avoid him whenever possible.”
“Speaking of which, I would love advance warning when he’s coming over. I have enough parental drama without dealing with yours, too.”
“Fair enough.” He traces a path under the slope of my jaw. “I just knew how much him leaving hurt you, solnishka. And I knew that the version of events you were told wasn’t completely accurate.”
I blow out a breath. “I almost forgot about that. Apparently, my mom knew Alexander before my dad left?”
“That’s what he says. He told me that your mom cheated on him. When she left to be with Alexander, Alexander refused to take you all in. But she was so in love with him that she bounced around from shelter to shelter with you rather than go back to your dad.”
I shake my head. “I want to say it doesn’t make sense. I mean, if Alexander was already in the picture when we were living on the streets, why wouldn’t he have stepped in?” I pause and reconsider. “Actually, when I say it out loud, it makes perfect sense. Alexander has been a sadistic manipulator from the very beginning. I’m not surprised at all.”
We’re quiet for a while. Ivan watches me, his finger still swirling, our breath mingling.
Finally, I look up at him. “He asked me to forgive him.”
“You don’t have to.”
I arch a brow. “You’re the one who brought him here. I figured you were on his side.”
“I’m on your side.” He wraps his arm around me and pulls me close. “I’m always on your side.”
“Even if I don’t know what I’m going to do yet?”
“Even if you know exactly what you’re going to do and decide you will never forgive him and want to key his car.”
That surprises a laugh out of me. “I had no idea committing petty crimes was a date night option.”
“Petty crimes, misdemeanors, just about any felony you can dream up. I’m open for anything as long as you’re with me.” His smile softens and the moment between us softens, too. “I’m not going anywhere, Cora. You have plenty of time to figure out what you want to do with your dad. I’ll be here when you’re ready.”
I’ve done a good job of holding back my tears, but one slips free.
Ivan brushes it away. “Don’t cry.”
“No, it’s good. It’s a happy tear. Knowing that you’ll be here, that we have time—it means everything to me.”
“We have so much time, Cora. A lifetime.” He brings my knuckles to his lips and presses a long kiss there. “We are going to make it through all of this. We are going to live our lives together and start a family. And we aren’t going to pass any of this bullshit family drama down to them. We’re going to give them the lives we never had: parents who are there for them and a dad who is head over heels obsessed with their mom.”
Those pesky tears are burning in my eyes again, and I swipe them away. “That sounds like a good plan.”
“That’s the only kind I make.”
I roll my eyes and laugh. “So cocky.”
“If you want cocky, I can show you cocky,” he growls.
In a second, he’s on top of me, his mouth on my neck and threatening to venture lower.
I thread my hands through his hair. “Don’t get me wrong: I want you to stay right where you are, but… don’t you have a meeting today?”
He growls, the vibration rumbling through my chest. “A meeting I’m already late for, yeah.”
My disappointment is immeasurable, but I slowly push him back and sit up. “I don’t want anyone to think that I’m a distraction for you.”
“You aren’t a distraction, Cora.” He strokes his long finger under my chin. “You’re my woman. My reason.”
I turn my face and kiss the center of his palm. “Keep talking like that and I’ll change my mind and beg you to stay.”
“They should see that.”
My eyes go wide. “They should see the two of us in bed?”
“Fuck no. That sight is all mine.” Possession flares in his eyes. “But they should see who you are to me. Come with me to the meeting.”
“Really? You want me there?”
“I want you with me,” he says. “Always.” He strokes his chin as he thinks about it. “But let’s save that for another day. I’m fucking famished and I don’t want to go to this meeting anyway. So here’s what’s going to happen: right now, I’m going to fuck you to within an inch of your life. We’re going to shower and get ready to leave, then I’m going to get horny and do it all over again. Then, when you’re sweaty and wrecked and you smell like me, I’m taking you to get the best burger you’ll ever have in your life.”
* * *
Let no one say that Ivan Pushkin is not a man of his word.
He does indeed fuck me to within an inch of my life. He does indeed carry my still-trembling body to the shower, rinse me off with the gentlest touch I’ve ever felt, then carry me right back to bed and devour me until I’m a melted puddle of goo on the sheets. Then, with a smile on his lips, he dresses me in sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt and walks me out the door, down the stairs, and into his Range Rover.
We pull up outside the most rundown-looking burger joint I’ve ever seen in my life.
“Are we getting hamburgers or hepatitis?” I ask nervously.
He rolls his eyes. “Back home in the mansion for one day and you’re already a snob.”
I thwack him on the arm. “I’m not a snob!” Gesturing at myself, I add, “Would a snob be about to waltz into this place like the most slovenly peasant who ever lived?”
Ivan’s eyebrow perks up and his tongue darts out. “You look pretty good to me, solnishka…”
I push him away and recoil to the far side of the car, even as a smile plays across my lips. “Nuh-uh. No way. Hands to yourself, mister. You made me come way too many times already this morning. If I let you at it again, you’re going to break me permanently.”
“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” he growls.
Laughing, he lunges toward me. I shriek and jump out of the car as fast as I can, his hand pawing over my hip but not quite close enough to reel me back toward him.
I hit the pavement and dance away. I’m still looking back at the vehicle when I collide with something solid and warm. The impact makes my head spin and I stumble backward, dizzy. It’s only when my vision clears and I realize what—or rather, whom—I just slammed into that every trace of laughter vanishes.
Because Mikhail Sokolov is staring down at me.