He paused, his shoulders stiff. “Do you want it to be more?”
My lips thinned. “I don’t normally do exclusive unless it’s a real relationship.” I scratched my head, still thinking. Finally, I added quietly, “I wouldn’t mind trying something past sex with you.” He was trouble, but he was the delicious darkness that you slipped into freely.
He stared at the wall, silent for a long moment. “We would need to keep this between us for a while. My children…aren’t ready for news like this if it’s not somewhat serious.”
I understood that. My decision was set. “Okay. I’m game if you are. We’re exclusive.”
He glanced back at me, nodded once, and then bent and gave me a quick peck on the lips before straightening. He shouted over the increasing pounding, “Zane, just a second.”
The hammering stopped, and we both heard him shout, “Fucking finally! Hurry up!”
I slipped off the bed, tossed the condom wrapper away, and got my robe off the chair at the small table by the window, slipping it on as Daniil put his shorts back on after disposing of the condom. I got to the door first, and opened it, only to have Zane brush past me quickly, bumping me against the wall. “Hello to you, too.”
“Whatever.” He walked farther into the room, and I shut the door, seeing Daniil’s bodyguards outside my room, standing against the far wall.
Zane glanced at me as I followed before looking back at Daniil, who was sitting on the bed that had obviously been used for sex with the comforter like it was. Hell, Daniil was even in disarray; his hair had dried and it was an adorable mess all over his head, and he just looked…well…sated, relaxed, and leaning back on the bed. I did not even want to know what my hair looked like if his thick, gorgeous straight hair looked like that. I put a hand to my hair at the same moment Zane glanced at me again. He had opened his mouth to say something, but his gaze went to where my hand was, and he kind of blinked at my hair. Jesus. It had to be bad. I went to my bag and started digging through it for a hair tie. It was just long enough that I could get it pulled back if I needed to.
Zane cleared his throat, still staring at my hair, and started speaking in Russian. Quick Russian from the sound of it as I found my hair tie. I was not even surprised, really, that he was doing that. I was a reporter, and he would not have come to my room when he knew what Daniil and I were doing without a damn good reason.
I yanked my hair back the best I could. It really was ugly up because it was not long, but it was better than the alternative. Once I had it fixed, I turned to face them. I stopped in my tracks. Daniil had frozen on the bed and was listening to Zane avidly. Something big had happened. Really big by the way Daniil said something, also in Russian, and when Zane replied, he jumped off the mattress, grabbed his wallet and went directly to the bathroom and got the rest of his clothes. He sat back on the bed and continued to speak to Zane, their conversation picking up in speed as he quickly put his socks and shoes on.
He jumped up again, pulled his shirt on over his head, his gorgeous muscles rippling with the movement. He stalked in my direction, quickly stating in English, “I’ve got to go.”
I was holding my tongue so badly, but I could not help it. Being a reporter was too deeply imbedded. “What’s happened?” I was practically bouncing on the balls on my feet.
He shook his head. “I can’t say, but I promise to tell you tomorrow if it’s true.”
My lips thinned, but I could tell he was not going to say more. I nodded. “All right.” I would just have to sneak out after he left and try to figure it out by myself.
His lips twitched, and then he leaned down and gave my lips a quick caress. “Don’t forget about your deadline.”
My eyes snapped to the clock. “Dammit!” I did not have time to sneak out. I would probably be late as it was with my article. I scowled, and he looked like he was trying hard not to laugh. I pointed at the tip of his nose. “You better tell me tomorrow.”
He took my finger and kissed the tip of it, chuckling. “Only if it’s the truth. That’s all you talk about, anyway.”
Grumpily, I took my finger back and crossed my arms. “You better go. Zane’s looking exasperated.” And a little amused. At me. Asshole.
My door burst open, and Daniil and Zane instantly had a gun each pointed at the entry.
It was only Stash who stopped right inside the door with a keycard in his hand.
His hair…well…it could have given mine a run for its money in inhumanness right now.
Daniil and Zane casually lowered their weapons.
I smacked Daniil’s arm, seriously getting irritated with the constant gun show. “How many times a day do you bring that thing out? You’re going to end up shooting someone!”
Stash’s mouth was opened to say something, but they all stopped. Stared at me.
“What?” It was true. The statistics were undeniable about people accidently firing a weapon that it was bound to happen with how many times he brought the damn thing out.
Daniil’s lips were twitching again.
Zane murmured dryly, “Elizabeth, that’s kind of the point.” He raised his gun to the wall behind the bed. “You lift.” He peered down the gun. “You aim.” He jerked his hand. “You fire.” He lowered his gun. “Hopefully, shooting them before they shoot you.”
I put a finger to my temple since it was starting to throb, and shooed them with my other hand, muttering, “I’ve had enough of Lion Security today. Go away.”
Daniil chuckled, bending and kissing over my bandage at my temple. “Sleep well, Beth.”
I nodded, followed behind them with Stash yapping away in Russian. I started to lock the door once they were gone, but there was a gentle knock. I opened it back up and Least Ugly was standing there with his hand extended, which held ibuprofen and a couple of icepacks. He stated, “Mr. Kozar wanted you to have this for your throat.”
I took them gratefully, and closed and locked my door, sighing as I grabbed my laptop. I proceeded to write one hell of a fluff piece. By the time I lay down for bed, my eyes would scarcely stay open. Even if I had wanted to go out and investigate what was going on, I would not have been able to do it efficiently. I fell asleep on a pillow that was still damp from Daniil’s and my hair. I smelled roses even in my dreams.
Waking up to my ringing phone, I groaned and then winced. My throat hurt worse this morning. I slapped a hand down blindingly on the nightstand and fumbled until I felt my cellphone. Answering it, I mumbled, “Hello?”