It’s the only way to escape her.
Pale numbers on the clock on her nightstand ticked away as he knelt there, torn. It continued to count, moving forward in time, all too willing to leave him behind. He had approximately thirty minutes before she was to return home and again, he fought against the idea of letting her find him and interrogating her for answers he desperately needed.
Shaking his head, he cleared his thoughts before regretfully standing. The absence of her scent left a void in his chest, something like regret twinging there.
His father would be disgusted at the man he’d become.
A quick glance in the drawers of her nightstands revealed nothing earth shattering. There was hand cream, lip balm, and medicine—the first two items he pocketed as trophies. Until he went to close the last drawer.
There, something unusual caught his attention. Shoved underneath a stack of gardening magazines, he spotted something pink. He’d almost missed it, but his eyes honed in on her vibrator.
Well, well, well,he thought deviously, lips twitching at the image playfully crossing his mind.
He yearned to take off his glove and touch it with his bare hand. The idea of rolling up his mask so he could lick the silicone replayed in his mind over and over again.
Did it taste like her, even if she cleaned it? What did she look like when she was up here all alone and needy, using it to get off? Who did she think of when she came undone?
The last question made his teeth grit together in jealousy. He wanted her to think ofhim. It was unreasonable; he knew this. His hold over her was damn near inconsequential—for now—but his mind still wanted it. No one else deserved her attention; no one else would sate the hunger he sensed within her like he could.
Abruptly, he slammed the drawer shut.
If he didn’t stop now, there would be no going back. And he was wasting precious seconds daydreaming when he should be searching through her things for clues about Ivan…one of his owndeademployees.
With a sigh, he stood and assessed the rest of her room. A dresser with jewelry and perfume bottles lined on the top were glinting in the moonlight. Peering closer, he memorized the names and fragrance notes. Since she’d been kind enough to send him tequila, maybe he could send her a gift of his own, one that let her know he’d been here.
A vintage chair sat in the corner of her room with a quilted blanket draped over the back and armrest. Other than a few stray pieces of clothing and her unmade bed, Anika’s room was well organized. Mikko didn’t expect anything less. The poise she held herself with spoke to that.
Business clothes lined her closet, all the colors dark and moody. Casual clothes were folded in the drawers of her dresser along with underwear and socks. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t clutched onto a pair of underwear for a solid two minutes, wrestling with himself on if he should take them.
In the end, he didn’t.
Maybe I can take something else…
A vision of her standing where he was, trying on different clothes, intruded his thoughts. Her onyx hair cascading over her shoulders, trickling down her back and tickling against her skin, was vivid in his mind. He couldalmostfeel her, the sensation of her disarming honeyed eyes on him, unfreezing the ever-present chill in his heart.
A shiver coursed down his spine at the thought.
Crossing the room, Mikko opened the final door. It led to a small ensuite bathroom which tempted him to step in farther. He did.
A window provided him with enough light to see by, her toiletries and cosmetics scattered over every flat surface in the room. Mikko smiled to himself. She represented a piece of him he wished he could have. Spontaneity. Freedom.
His own city penthouse was spotless, a cleaning company coming every week even though it was hardly dirty when they did come. Everything had its place, and he enjoyed the cleanliness of it.The control.
Dark gray towels hung on hooks and a botanical themed shower curtain caught his attention.
Of course it’s plant related.
While he may not be getting any additional leads on Ivan, hewaslearning that Anika, plants, and the color green all went hand in hand.
Small wins,he thought, closing her bathroom and bedroom door behind him as he slipped out. While he didn’t want this night to end and the game to ebb, Mikko knew there were other responsibilities piling up in his computer’s inbox. Tonight might not have shown him explicitly how Ivan and Anika were connected, but it showed Mikko how invincible he was.
Time would force the truth to come out, and he’d be waiting.
Until then…
His restless fingers couldn’t help themselves. He’d slipped one of her soft scarfs from a coat hook in her foyer on his way out.
An excuse to come back,he thought as he left the spare key where he found it and disappeared into the night.