Chapter 32 Kovan struts in like he owns the damn place. Which, technically, he does. But still, he doesn't have to peacock around like that. The moment Luka spots him, though, everything changes. The intimidating mob boss melts away, replaced by a smiling uncle who drops to his knees on the marble floor to watch a tiny robot named Viking wobble in circles. "Look how fast he goes!" Luka demonstrates, his face glowing with pride. Kovan's gaze softens in a way that makes my chest tight. "That's incredible, malysh. Did you build this yourself?" "Waylen helped, but I did most of it." Luka beams, then pulls out a stack of papers. "And look! I finished three whole pages of math." "Three pages?" Kovan makes a show of examining each problem. "This deserves a standing ovation." He actually does it. Stands up and claps like Luka just performed at Carnegie Hall. But I notice the subtle changes as soon as Waylen steps back into the room. Kovan's jaw tightens and his forehead wrinkles when Luka scurries toward Waylen and the two of them have a giggling, whispered conversation. "Luka," Kovan says, interrupting the secret exchange, "why don't you go shower and get your things ready for bedtime?" Luka turns to Waylen and rolls his eyes. "That's his way of getting rid of me." Waylen chuckles. "Adults need to have boring conversations sometimes." They fist-bump, and Luka scampers upstairs, but not before throwing us a look that says he knows exactly what's happening. The kitchen falls silent. Kovan's fingers drum against the countertop. Waylen matches his stare, unflinching. I'm sweating through my shirt watching this testosterone standoff. "So," I jump in like the coward I am, "today was amazing. Luka absolutely loves Waylen." "Luka's polite," Kovan says, his voice flat. "Some things can't be faked," I press. "Not even by the most polite eight-year-old in the world." Kovan stops drumming his fingers. "You did well today," he tells Waylen shortly, as if the words are being dragged out of him. Waylen nods. "Luka made it easy. He's brilliant. That'll make my job a lot smoother." "About that job." Kovan leans back in his chair. "I'll have the final contract ready tonight." "Perfect. I'll see you all⁠-" "One more thing." Kovan holds up a finger to stop Waylen in his tracks. "Luka's social worker will be making surprise visits. She'll evaluate everyone in his life now. That includes you." My brother shrugs. "I can handle a social worker." Kovan's jaw turns to stone. "It can't look like I'm pawning off my responsibilities. She needs to understand you're support staff. Nothing more." "And what exactly is Vesper?" Waylen asks bluntly. My breath catches. Waylen's going rogue, and he knows it. He won't even look at me. And since he's too far away from me to kick in the shins, I'm left stranded here, caught between Kovan and Waylen, trying to remember what our childhood code word for "danger" was. "Vesper..." Kovan's tongue snakes across his bottom lip like he's tasting my name. "My relationship with Vesper is above your pay grade." "Waylen-" I hope my voice carries enough warning. He ignores me completely. "Vesper has a bleeding heart. It's her best quality and her biggest weakness. She puts up with things she shouldn't." "Way, stop⁠-" "I don't want her being used." "Do you think Vesper would allow herself to be used?" Kovan fires back at him, ignoring me just as thoroughly as Waylen is. "If it means helping someone else? Absolutely. And I think you know that, Kovan." Kovan's eyebrow arches. "I prefer my employees call me 'Mr. Krayev.'" "Enough!" I slam my hands on the table and push to my feet. "Honestly, can you two cut it out? There's so much testosterone in this room I can barely breathe." Before either man can respond, Luka bounces back in carrying a globe I remember seeing in his playroom. "This is my planet, Waylen." He bypasses Kovan entirely and climbs into the chair next to my brother. "I want to learn about..." He spins it and points. "Here." "Africa!" Waylen's whole face lights up. "Funny enough, I spent a year teaching in Mozambique." "Really?!" Luka looks as if he's never heard anything cooler in his whole entire life. "Did you see lions? And giraffes? And rhinos?" "All of them. A cheetah even used the hood of my jeep as a napping spot during a safari once." "No way!" "I'll bring pictures next time." I gather the coffee mugs off the table, hoping this display of Luka's genuine enthusiasm will soften Kovan's attitude. But when I turn from the sink, he's right there, barely a foot away. And he's radiating pissed-off energy. He leans against the counter, arms crossed, watching Waylen and Luka with irritation that he doesn't bother to conceal. "George of the Jungle really knows how to show off," he mutters. I bite back a smile. "He's done incredible things. Did you know he was in the Peace Corps?" "Jesus." Kovan runs a hand over his face. "And he volunteered at the California School for the Blind for a year." "Does he walk on water, too?" I can't suppress the giggle that bursts from my lips. Both Waylen and Luka turn in my direction. I hide behind my cup. "It's cute that you're jealous." "'Jealous'?" He nearly chokes on the word. "I've never been jealous of anyone in my life. Certainly not some arrogant pretty boy." "Then why hire the arrogant pretty boy?" "Because you vouched for him." "Bullshit. You don't do anything you don't want to do." He glares at me. "Fine. He seems to know how to handle Luka." "Because he's good at what he does." "Or because his idiotic charm appeals to eight-year-olds." He pauses. "Tell me again how you two met?" "Vesper!" Luka saves me from answering. "Waylen says you can touch your nose with your tongue!" I catch Kovan's expression. He looks personally offended that Waylen knows anything about my tongue. I have to bite the inside of my cheek so he doesn't see me smiling. Jealous, he claims he's not. I disagree. think he's turning dollar-bill green with envy. "It's true." I demonstrate, and Luka erupts in applause like I've performed magic. "That's so cool!" he cries out. "I've been trying forever, but my tongue isn't long enough." "I bet you have other talents," Waylen encourages. "No." Luka's face falls. "I'm boring." Waylen pokes him in the ribs. "Vesper used to say the same thing at your age. Trust me, everyone thinks that when they're eight." "I still think it sometimes," I admit, sliding into the seat next to Waylen. "Only because you refuse to have any fun." Waylen stretches his arm over my shoulders. Kovan goes rigid. His hands clench into fists, and panic twists in my stomach. Am I going too far? Or not far enough? "Like what?" I try to keep the conversation moving, to ignore Mr. Bad Attitude over there. "The stuff we used to do as kids. Remember when⁠-" "Shadow puppet shows!" Luka interrupts. "Like Waylen used to do when you snuck into his room at night! He told me about it." If Kovan looked angry before, now he looks murderous. Pretty sure if I cracked an egg over his head, it would boil. "I didn't sneak in that often," I mumble. "Please. At least twice a week," Waylen declares. "It was a fight getting you out of my bed in the mornings." Kovan's scowl could turn me to stone. I'm reconsidering every life choice that brought me to this moment. On the other hand, I'm also thoroughly enjoying the danger. "I wish I had a brother," Luka sighs, oblivious to the danger. "Or a sister. Then we could sneak into each other's rooms and do shadow puppet shows like you two did." Kovan freezes. I freeze. I believe the technical term for this situation is "busted." "Have you shown Waylen the koi pond yet?" I ask desperately. "Not yet!" Luka grabs Waylen's arm and drags him upright. "Come on!" "Easy, easy, no need to pull. I'm coming." Waylen shoots Kovan a wary look before following Luka outside. I start re-clearing the already-cleared table, which is a pathetically transparent coping mechanism, but I need something to do with my hands. "Maybe we should order pizza for dinner," I suggest, my voice coming out unnaturally high. "Or we could do Chi⁠-" "You lied to me." Kovan's voice is deadly quiet. His green eyes promise retribution, of the long and painful variety. "I didn't lie," I squeak out. "I omitted. There's a difference." "You let me believe he was your ex." "I didn't do anything. You drew your own conclusions." "And the point was what, exactly?" I shrug and try to walk around him. "Personal satisfaction?" He follows, his shadow falling over me like a predator stalking prey. My skin prickles, but there's an excited flutter low in my belly. This was always the end result of this game. I pretended otherwise, I told myself I had different reasons-but I knew. I knew all along where it would take us. And now, so does Kovan. "You enjoyed watching me squirm." "So you admit you were squirming then?" His eyes flash. "You're not the sweet doctor everyone thinks you are. You're a little troublemaker who likes playing games. The thing about being a troublemaker, though, Vesper... is that it ends with punishment." I roll my eyes and try to step away, try to pretend every word he snarls in my ear isn't doing heinously delightful things between my legs. "Think whatever you want, Kovan." His hand slams against the counter, trapping me between the fridge and the island. "You don't get to mess with me and then just walk away. No, no. I think I'd like to mess with you, too." Despite the fear racing through me, I force myself to meet his gaze. "What are you going to do about it?" In hindsight, challenging a man like Kovan Krayev probably wasn't my smartest move. He leans in until his body is barely an inch from mine. Any closer and we'd be pressed together completely. My clothes have never felt flimsier. No room has ever felt tinier. "Is this how you intimidate all your employees?" I croak, desperate to say anything that'll forestall whatever he's planning next. "You're not an employee, remember?" His voice drops to that sinful, velvet whisper that makes my skin tingle. "You're my girlfriend." "In name only." "Is that what you keep telling yourself?" His breath tickles my ear as he wraps a strand of my hair around his finger. "It's the truth. It's what you wanted, remember?" He smiles, and his eyes light up with green and gold and blue-gray flecks. So many colors and promises swirling in there. "Oh, I remember everything. I remember you saying you'd never beg me to join you in bed, for instance. But it's got me wondering something... If I touched you right now, Vesper... would you stop me?" My eyes widen. My heart pounds so hard I can feel it everywhere-my chest, my throat, between my legs most of all. "Yes," I squeak out. His smile widens. "That wasn't very convincing." "Let me go." "I'm not holding you." His lips are so close I feel their warmth. "If you want to leave, just leave." "You're in my way." We're sharing the same air now. He's close enough to give me mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. I'm starting to think I might need it. "If this is going to work, we need to be honest with each other," he rasps against my lips. "We need trust." "You trust me?" He tilts his head. "I trust you with Luka. That's more trust than I've given people I've known for years." "That's not the same thing." "You want more?" "No, that's not what I⁠-" The words wither as his lips hover over mine. I can smell his skin, that intoxicating mix of soap and sweat, cologne and detergent, the filtered air of his mansion and the sweet heat of springtime outside. I gasp as his hand settles on my hip. The weight of it, firm and sure, makes my stomach clench. I don't know if I'm ready for this. For him. Scratch that-I know I'm not. "Kovan..." "Yes, Vesper?" He's got to stop saying my name. It's killing me. My name, purred in that voice, is the recipe for my undoing. It slides over me like warm oil, stirring every nerve ending awake, making me feel like I've been sleepwalking through life until this moment. A half-life, a shadow of a life-until right now. "I... I..." What the hell am I trying to say? Something important, surely. The stakes are so high. But looking into those impossible green eyes, everything else fades away. His hands slide down to my thighs. My legs part without permission from my brain. "Do you agree we need to be honest with each other?" he asks. I can only nod. His lips trace my jawline. A startled gasp escapes when I feel his hardness against my thigh. "Do you agree we need to trust each other?" Another nod. I'm like a broken doll with only two settings-shocked and desperate. "Do you agree that you wanted to make me jealous?" Warning bells should be going off in my head. But all I can process is the heat of his body against mine, the way his erection pins me in place, the complete short-circuit of my rational thought. "Tell me," he murmurs when I don't answer his question. "Do you agree that you wanted to make me jealous?" "Maybe," I whisper. He presses against me, and the pressure against my core makes me moan. I'm perilously close to falling apart right here, fully clothed and completely at his mercy. "I could give you the most incredible orgasm of your life," he whispers in my ear. "You want that, don't you? You want to fall apart in my hands?" "Y-yes." I don't recognize myself. "You want me?" "Yes." "I could make you come right here, right now." He pulls back just enough for me to see his eyes. "You know that, don't you?" "Yes." "Good." His lips brush my ear. "I could lick you. Taste you. Crush you. Own you. I could make you feel things you've never felt before. I could do all of that..." Then he steps back, putting three feet of cold air between us. A wicked smile spreads across his face. "... But I won't." The sudden absence of his heat is the worst pain I've ever felt. All that desperate need crashes into nothing, and it's agony. He tips his head in a mock bow. "Have a good night, Doctor." Then he walks away, leaving me shaking and furious and aching for something I'll have to beg for if I ever want to get it.