Page 9

“I’m sorry, I missed the last thing you said. Could you repeat it?” I said.
He frowned again but complied. “Oh, yeah, I was just wondering if you were going to see Joanna Newsom this month?”
Joanna Newsom was a famous harpist, and while I loved classical harp, I also loved her more avant-garde compositions. “She’s coming to Chicago?”
Jason smiled. “Yeah, actually, I got—”
“Emmy,” said the deep voice that I’d barely heard, but was permanently etched in my mind.
My head slowly turned, and I found Ivan's hard green eyes staring down at me. I searched his face, looking for some sign of warmth but only found blank coldness. Or in his case, his usual expression.
Having him so close, breathing in his scent, had my heart pounding in my chest like a kettle drum. The same connection I felt with that night seemed to magically snap back into place. He pulled me toward him like a planet orbiting the sun. One part of me wanted to jump on him and drag him off to my bedroom, while another wanted to scream in his face for ignoring me and making me feel so rejected.
I took a calming breath. “Yes?”
Ivan gave Jason a sharp glance that had him shrinking in his sandals, then returned his gaze to me. “I need to talk to you.”
“Uh…”
Before I could finish replying, Ivan grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me toward the grove of trees at the back of the yard. His hand was like a hot brand around my wrist, sending shivers across my skin. Jason stared at us, a mixture of frustration and concern on his face.
“What is wrong with you? I was in the middle of a conversation.” I flipped my sunglasses up to glare at him, but the unobstructed sight of him only made things worse.
His brow furrowed as he cocked his head. “You dating the clarinet player?”
Unfortunately no. “Is that what you dragged me over here to ask?” I evaded.
“Are you?”
Damn. I was hoping he wouldn’t ask me again directly. Instead, I sighed. “No. And he plays soprano sax,” I grumbled.
Ivan grunted, his frown easing. “Good. He’d just get in the way.
“In the way of what?”
His jaw tightened. “Like I said, we need to talk.”
I put my hands on my hips, one eyebrow arched. “Now you want to talk to me? I haven’t heard from you in months and now it’s all urgent?” Anger that I had banked and carefully stored came rising to the surface like lava out of a volcano.
Ivan cocked his head, as if uncertain how to proceed, but ultimately let out an annoyed breath. “We can get into that shit another time.”
Little needles stabbed into my chest at his dismissive comment. My years of correspondence boiled down to ‘that shit.’ I pressed my lips together. “You know what? I have to get back to my—”
“Emmy,” he barked. “We don’t have time to process your goddamned feelings. We have a serious issue to discuss.”
I opened my mouth to bark back at him, to tell him to go fuck himself and march back to Jason’s side. Right now, I was ready to marry Jason if it might hurt Ivan. Before I could say anything, Ivan stepped a little closer, his male scent sending my pulse skyrocketing.
“Emmy,” he murmured, reaching over and pressing a rough finger against my lips, silencing my next tirade. “This is serious.”
My eyes widened as I stared at his grave expression, confusion and anxiety starting to build inside me. This wasn’t about Jason.
As much as I hated removing his touch, I wrapped my hand around his wrist and pulled his finger away from my mouth. “What’s going on?”
“Callahan just informed us that when he was working with Orlov, all Orlov did was talk about you. He spoke about you as if you were already in a relationship. Indicated that you two were planning to be together. Do you know anything about that?”
My head jerked back. “What? Who’s Orlov?”
Ivan sighed. “Andrei Orlov is the guy who helped Yuri kidnap you. He was driving the car.”