My gut draws tight with anticipation as I take the call. Nelsky wouldn’t call me at five in the morning for frivolous reasons.
“I hope I didn’t wake you, sir,” he says with a soprano pitch to his voice.
“What’s going on?” I ask, facing my reflection in the mirror.
“We found it, sir.”
I go still. Time stops ticking.
“Sir? The file. We found the file.”
My heart goes into overdrive, thumping with triumphant beats in my chest. “Where?”
“In iCloud, sir. Mukha hid a copy there, maybe to use as insurance if his life happened to be at risk.”
Much good it did him.
“It wasn’t easy,” Nelsky continues, “but our hacker eventually unraveled enough cyber threads to lead us there.”
“I assume you already downloaded it and wiped the original.”
“Yes, sir. We couldn’t risk someone else finding it.”
“Good work,” I say, keeping my voice down so I don’t wake Katerina. “Send it to me.”
He coughs. “There’s still one little hiccup we have to deal with before I can send it, sir.”
I clench my jaw. “What hiccup?”
“The file is encrypted and we can’t break the code.” He adds hastily, “Not yet.”
“Fuck,” I say under my breath.
“I’ll let you know as soon as there’s an update.”
“Do that.” I scrub a hand over my face. “No matter what time of the day or night.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And Nelsky?”
“Sir?”
“You’re not fired.”
He utters a nervous laugh.
I end the call.
Taking a few long breaths, I process the news. The file is in my hands. At last. If that hacker I’m paying a fortune per month is worth his salt, I’ll have the information soon. Though I have a feeling I’m not going to like what I’ll find.
I switch off the light and go back to bed. The mattress dips when I get in next to Katerina.
Frowning, she blinks her eyes open. “Alex?”
My name on her lips warms my chest and hardens my dick. I wrap my arms around her and kiss her forehead. “Go back to sleep, kiska.”
“Is everything all right?”
“Yes.”
The lie comes easily. If the price for her tranquility is an untruth, I’ll gladly carry the burden of that sin.
Her voice is croaky with sleep. “Where did you go?”
“I just went to the bathroom for a sip of water.”
“There are bottles in the fridge.” She snuggles closer to me, nestling under my arm. “Do you want me to get you one?”
The offer warms me in a different way, a way I seldom, if ever, experience. No one else tries to take care of me without expecting something in return.
“No, kiska,” I say in a soft voice, tightening my arms around her. “I’m good.”
She settles with a sigh, resting her cheek on my chest. She’s cute when she’s like this—half asleep and not yet remembering to be angry with me. Now that I finally have that fucking file, her negative feelings will soon be a thing of the past. I’ll tie her to me in every way imaginable. She’ll never be able to get away, but I’ll make her so happy she’ll be too delirious to realize how effectively I’m spinning my web around her. And even if she does, she’ll be too ecstatic to mind. I’ll give her everything her heart desires, everything a man with money and power can. Not that material things are that important to her. Sure, she likes pretty dresses and shoes and even the jewelry she says is too expensive. But what she really wants are the simple things—a job she enjoys, a happy home, friends, a family.
I’ll give her a family.
Soon.
As soon as I’ve eliminated the threat on our lives.
The thought alone makes me hard. My semi-erection turns into a full-blown hard-on that tents my pajama bottoms. Sliding a hand along the curve of her spine, I push up the silk camisole top of her sleep set. She presses closer, throwing her thigh over mine.
The non-verbal permission is all I need. There’s a sudden fire in my veins, an urge to plant my seed deep inside her. It’s different than the desire I always feel for her or the compulsive necessity to show her constant affection. It’s more primal and, at the same time, more of a conscious decision. This isn’t an impulse. At the back of my mind, I’ve always known that this is where we’re heading. And now that my mind and body have taken notice of my resolve, I’m impatient to chase that goal.
I slip a hand under the elastic of her shorts and trace the crease of her ass before cupping a cheek. She arches her hips, rubbing the sweet spot between her legs against my thigh. She’s so wet I can feel her arousal through the fabric of my pajama bottoms. The fact that I arouse her, that her body is making all that cream and honey for me, satisfies a primitive side of me I didn’t even know I possessed.