“I’m always good to myself,” he mutters.
“Fine. So no taking needless risks. I’m really fond of your body.”
“So am I.”
“And your face, too.”
“Good.”
“And I’m crazy about you, too, Tolyan. You don’t have to do anything insane to prove yourself. If we’re always honest with each other, words will be enough. Does that make sense?”
He gives a slow nod, his body tense.
I reach over, take his large hand in mine and thread our fingers together. His pulse throbs against my palm, and I kiss the back of his hand. “Since I don’t want any misunderstanding, I’m going to make it as plain as possible. I love you too. And I want to try to make this relationship work. What do you say?”
“I say that’s the best idea I’ve heard in my life.” And he presses his lips to mine.
Chapter Forty-Three
Tolyan
–one year and several months later
Comfortable in my favorite armchair, I look up from my tablet as the little fawn comes home, her step light.
“How did your group study go?” I ask, then sip my vodka. It’s a little after three, and I’m working from home today.
“Good. I think I’m ready for the econ midterm on Monday.”
I nod. She enrolled in UCLA this year. Going to college is her dream, so I did everything possible to support her. I’m proud of her for also continuing to work at the foundation part-time. She wants to get a degree in economics and math in four years and use her education to help the less fortunate.
“Should you be drinking while you’re working?” she asks.
I cock an eyebrow. “Should you even ask that question?” I flick my eyes to the dining table. “Remember our poker game?”
Her cheeks flush, making her look younger and cuter. She has this odd notion that I shouldn’t drink. On top of that, she seems to believe that if I have more than a single bottle of vodka I won’t be able to control myself.
So to prove her wrong, we played strip poker after I had more than a bottle. I won hand after hand until she was bare except for the tiny black thong. Then I got bored with the game and had my way with her until she nearly blacked out from climaxing.
She clears her throat. “Yes, well, anywaaay, we’re thinking about doing the group project together for part of the econ final, too.”
Her attempt at changing the topic is cute, so I let it slide. No need to embarrass her over what should be a good, satisfying memory for both of us.
I look down at the tablet and skim the background check I have on the kids in her econ study group. They’re clean except for one guy with four tickets for reckless driving…and a DUI. He better not offer to drive her anywhere. I let her drive my Audi convertible because she looks adorable—that’s the only word for it—in the car, but you never know with young men. Their brains are full of testosterone and a special “young and immortal” psychosis that makes them act like monocellular idiots.
I should also note those male idiots might consider stalking her. It’s too bad humans don’t pee on each other to mark their territory.
Stravinsky looks up and whines like he can read my thoughts.
“What project are you working on?” Angelika asks.
“Some security matters.” I keep it vague. She doesn’t need to know everything I do to ensure her safety. No unworthy boys bugging her. No pests like Eric, who will now never work for any organization affiliated with the Pryce family.
I put the tablet away and stand. “Want a snack?” It’s about time I interrogate her—without her realizing I’m doing so—to see if anyone’s been annoying her.
“What do you have in mind?”
“Greek yogurt?”
“Ooh, my favorite!”
I smile and hand her a strawberry-flavored yogurt along with a spoon. She takes it with eyes large in anticipation. “Love you.”
She’s gotten used to saying that in the last several months. Not only that, she says it at the most random times, like she’s stating it every time it pops into her head. I find that I like it.
I place a tender kiss on her forehead. “Love you more, little fawn.”
Chapter Forty-Four
Tolyan
Something’s up with the little fawn.
She’s been gazing at nothing for a while. When the dogs came out to greet her, she petted them, but I don’t think she can recall which dog she touched first. Or which one begged for his treat extra hard today.
Now she’s opposite me at the dining table eating her dinner. Her movements are mechanical, her eyes unfocused. If I ask her what she just swallowed, she probably won’t be able to answer.
She had a calculus midterm in the morning and spent a few hours at the Pryce Family Foundation. She was fine when she arrived in the office, so I doubt it’s the midterm that’s bugging her.
So. Who at the foundation upset her?
More importantly, will I need to hurt them?
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
She swallows, then places a small bit of pot roast into her mouth and starts chewing again.
I exercise what’s left of my patience. “What’s wrong?” My voice is still calm, but louder.
“Huh?” She stares at me, then blinks. “Oh, sorry. Uh. Nothing.”
“Honesty, remember?” I gesture at her with my knife.
Her cheeks turn red. She lowers her gaze for a second in embarrassment. “I was just thinking about stuff.”
“And? Let’s be honest about this ‘stuff.’”
She sighs. I’m certain she didn’t expect her insistence to come back and bite her in the ass. I’m not letting it slide, though. I want to know who’s been distracting her.
“It’s Elizabeth.”
Lizochka? I don’t recall her saying anything to the little fawn today. Lizochka’s been quite busy recently.
“And Dominic.”
That explains everything. He can irritate you just by existing. “What did he do?” I want the specificity of his crime so I can decide how many limbs of his I should break. I’m not going to kill him, since that would upset Lizochka and Thomas. But you don’t need all your limbs intact to live.
“He didn’t do anything except say hi,” Angelika says.
That “saying hi” could’ve been upsetting to the little fawn. It’s the man’s fault. He has the most annoying voice. Actually, everything about him is annoying. I wish Lizochka hadn’t fallen in love with him.
Anyway, I’ll break his right leg. Being stuck on crutches will do wonders for his personality and character. He might quit saying “hi” from now on, and humanity will be better off.
“Please don’t hurt him,” she says, giving me an “I know what’s in your head” look.
“What do you mean?” I frown, all affronted innocence. For some reason, Angelika can read me surprisingly accurately at times. Somewhat disconcerting, since nobody else can. It’s as though my shield slips without me noticing when I’m with her.
“I know that look. You’re thinking about hurting him.”