Page 29 of The Enemy's Defector
When I was more balanced and able to get up, though, I couldn’t figure out how to talk to her anymore. This was Katerina. The woman I’d always had in my life. As a girl, a teen, then a woman. I’d never failed to talk to her. To click with her—sexually or not.
Now, it was like we were strangers eager to part ways.
Watching her sleep, I sighed slowly and dragged my hand over my head until my hair fell back.
Just seeing her safe and near me filled a hole in my soul. With her close, I could be calmer. Steadier. But the sight of her here with me also reminded me of how far I’d fallen.
She was supposed to be the enemy. She freely admitted that she’d been intended to infiltrate my family as a spy.
She can’t be yours.
Just accept it.
And deal with it.
Because she was a Kozlov and Anton had ruined any alliance we could ever look forward to, I was expected to maintain a buffer between us.
So that means what, then?
I couldn’t let her be in trouble for saving me. I couldn’t send her off and let her fend for herself out there without any support or backing or security. Sure, she planned to leave her uncle, but that was a fantasy.
Once someone was in the Mafia life, there was no simple exit. Anton would hunt her down, and he had the guards to expend on that effort.
Nor could I bring her home with me. That was what I wanted, if life could ever be fair. I wished I could protect her with the full extent of the Ivanov name, but I didn’t know how I couldconvince Maxim that she wasn’t an enemy. He was in charge while our father recovered. He was more skeptical of letting Katerina—or any woman—too close to us. That was the residual effect of our mother’s affairs and betrayals. We all had too many issues with trusting women.
I trusted you, though.
Yearning to touch her, to reach out to her and feel her warmth, I resisted and stood a few feet back.
This boundary between us seemed impossible to maintain. I didn’t want to be so guarded with her. Yet, I didn’t know how else to treat her now.
On a heavy sigh, I turned and went back to the bedroom, disappointed we couldn’t argue a little more and snap like we did before, caving to each other. We’d fight, and she’d impress me with her stubbornness. Like this, she could be in my arms afterward, sharing that bed with me and helping me sleep.
Now what?
Too awake to try to rest, I reclined on the bed and flexed my arm a little, just to test my range of motion. It wasn’t great. And I wanted to be more flexible and stronger, but it would take time.
I couldn’t let her go. Not with my escape so recent and fresh and Anton furious about it. Letting Katerina be exposed to danger because of me wasn’t happening.
I couldn’t take her home. Not until I knew it was safe for me to go home. And that wouldn’t be possible until I identified who had ordered my capture.
All that remained was this. Hiding together. Waiting for a direction. Staying alive.
And maybe one day, getting back to what we used to be. Even before that one night we slept together.
Eventually, I dozed. I woke to find her still sleeping on the couch. She stirred at the sounds of my footsteps, though.
“Morn—”
She hurried to get off the couch and ran to the bathroom.
“—ing.” I raised my brows at her rushing away from me. Or maybe it wasn’t a hurry to evade me, not like that. It was probably nothing more than an urgent call of nature.
When she returned to the living room moments later, where I was pacing and trying my hardest to force my body into more movement and not going stiff from the beatings I’d taken, she didn’t look well.
Pale. Distracted. Nervous.
“Are you sick?”
