Ilona woke thirsty and disoriented. Weak morning light was coming through the crack in the curtains. Where—?
Memory rushed back. She was in Leander’s home. His bed!
With a small gasp, she sat up, head swimming.
“You’re safe, Ilona.” Leander’s voice was a quiet rumble beside her. “Go back to sleep.”
He was still dressed in last night’s clothes. Part of the bedspread was pulled across his waist. He had one arm thrown above his head, his eyes were closed and stubble shadowed his jaw.
Had he said the same thing in the night? She had a vague memory of waking with a whimper and hearing his reassuring voice beside her. He might have held her hand...
“I need to go to work,” she said, reflexively looking for escape.
“Why?” Leander cracked one eye. “We can work from here.”
“I want to go in.” It was what she did. Carry on. Pretend it hadn’t happened. Do the things she could control so she wouldn’t dwell on things she couldn’t.
She pulled up her knees and hugged them, considering whether that was the healthiest way to keep responding to Midas, especially if he was escalating from insulting and antagonizing to physical assaults.
As she closed her hot eyes and pressed them to her kneecaps, she started to relive that horrible moment when she had opened her door and—
Her hair shifted, sending a tingle across her scalp. A shiver went down her spine that made her lift her head and sit up straighter. That caused a light tug on her plait.
“I couldn’t help myself,” Leander said wryly as he released her thick tail so its weight landed against her back again. “It looks like it’s carved from obsidian, it’s so glossy and smooth.”
She self-consciously brought the plait to the front of her shoulder and petted it, liking the silky, ropey feel of it herself.
“Feodor has made arrangements for me. I don’t want to intrude on you longer tha—”
“Ilona.” He came up on an elbow. “We’re going to live together in ten days anyway. Stay here until then.”
“Here?” She was striving for a cynical reference to the bed they were currently occupying, but she wasn’t as averse to sharing it with him as she should be. Her stomach was tilting all over the place at the daunting yet alluring thought.
He inhaled sharply and caught the hand she was sweeping down the rippled line of her plait. Her pajama sleeve had fallen back, revealing the black bruise on her forearm.
“That—I hit it on something when I was...” She tugged free and drew her sleeve to cover her wrist.
“When you were running away.” His voice had turned bludgeon-hard again. “I want you to stay here, Ilona. Go into work each day if you must. I’ll take you there myself, but he’s not getting near you again. Not without going through me.”
She didn’t know how to react to that. It had been a long time since someone had been on her side. Feodor was, but he wasn’t in a position to offer real protection. On the contrary, she protected him and the rest of her employees, taking whatever Midas dished out so they were shielded from it.
The pattern in the bedspread blurred. She couldn’t look at Leander, she was so touched. He had come to her when she’d been too shocked to look after herself. He had said he was taking her away from them, that he wanted to help her. To guard her when she was so tired of guarding herself.
She had to bite her lips to still their trembling.
“Ilona?”
“Shall I make the coffee?” She threw back the covers and escaped before she broke down and threw herself at him.