“I can walk,” I start, but he’s already sliding his hand underneath my legs.
“Arms around my neck,” he instructs. “I’ll come back down to grab your stuff later.”
Detective Evans showed up this morning with my backpack and phone. Crime techs had looked them over, judging from the smudges of fingerprint powder, but since mine were the only ones found they were able to release them.
He didn’t have any news to share, but would contact us if anything popped up or if they had further questions for me.
The man doesn’t even break a sweat as he carries me up three flights of stairs to my floor. My front door is open and to my surprise Lena is waiting in my apartment with Phil, the manager, who looks a little nervous. Both look on with interest as Yanis installs me on the couch, carefully lifting my ankle onto a throw pillow.
“I hope this is okay?” the older man mutters, wringing his hands. “She mentioned you were in an accident.”
“It’s fine,” I quickly put him at ease, despite feeling a little weirded out having people in my normally solitary space.
“Okay, I’ll get going then.”
I wait until he leaves before turning to a grinning Lena.
“What are you doing here?”
“Dropping off some stuff and making sure you’re all right with my own two eyes,” she says, throwing Yanis a look I can’t quite decipher.
“What stuff? Work?”
Yanis snorts.
“No work, not until you’re cleared,” he grumbles.
“He was talking about physical work. I can still work on my laptop.”
“All he said was no work.”
Semantics. Surely there’s nothing wrong with doing some work remotely.
“Yes,” I agree patiently, “but he clearly implied nothing causing physical strain.”
His eyes narrow on me.
“He also said rest. Work does not equal rest.”
I let out an annoyed sigh. It’s not worth arguing about since he’s going to be gone soon enough anyway.
Lena seems to be enjoying our interaction as her eyes dart from me to him.
“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” Yanis asks her.
“Are you kidding? And miss all the fun?” she fires back.
I glare at him, which he doesn’t seem to notice at all, as he locks into a staredown with Lena.
“Oh fine,” she concedes, rolling her eyes at Yanis. “I’ll head back to the office. I put your bag in the spare bedroom, by the way.”
Wait.
“Uh, I’m sorry, whose bag in what spare bedroom?”
Turning to me with an innocent look on her face, she explains, “Yanis’s overnight bag in your spare bedroom. Although if you ask me, it’s a waste of clean sheets.”
My mouth is still hanging open when she walks out of my apartment and pulls the door shut.
“Wait. Why is your bag—”
But when I turn to Yanis, he’s on his way to my kitchen. He opens my cupboard, grabs a glass, and fills it from my faucet. Then he brings it to me.
“Need anything else?” he asks, as if I hadn’t spoken. “I’ll get your stuff from the car and then I’m gonna have a quick shower. Try to get some rest.”
He presses the TV remote in my hand and disappears out the door.
What the hell?
I can’t have him staying here, and he certainly can’t have a shower in my only bathroom. The thought of him…
Nope, that can’t happen.
Surely he’s not thinking of sticking around and playing nurse? That would be beyond awkward.
I’m wound up when he returns and blast him the moment he walks in the door.
“You can’t stay.”
“Okay, then we pack you a bag and you come stay with me,” he says, cool as a cucumber.
My brows snap together and I imagine steam may be coming from my ears.
“That’s an even worse idea,” I sputter.
“You’re being stubborn. You’re in no shape to look after yourself.”
Nothing like telling me I’m stubborn and can’t look after myself to get my blood boiling.
“I’m not stubborn and I’m perfectly fine.”
I push myself up, as I’m lifting my foot off the couch, and accidentally bump it into the edge of the coffee table.
“Fuck!” I yell out at the pain.
Immediately Yanis is there, pushing me back down on the couch, and carefully lifting my foot.
“Smart move,” he mumbles, making me want to slug him hard. “Gonna grab that shower now,” he adds.
Then he leaves me to stew as he disappears toward the bedrooms.
An angry, frustrated tear slips from my eye.
Damn that man.
Chapter Eight
Bree
“Hand me your cup.”
He reaches a hand over my shoulder and I give him my empty coffee mug.
We’ve been doing this dance now for two days. Yanis, as normal, is man of few words, and I’ve become silently compliant. He has the ability to make me feel like a recalcitrant child and behave like one too.
I tried doing things myself to prove I didn’t need him around, but that didn’t go so well. I finally gave in to letting him take care of me. He’s been hands-on, cooking, serving me, and even helping me to the bathroom and into bed.
I’ve done what I can sitting down, but haven’t had a shower, and desperately need one. My hair is getting greasy and washing with a washcloth while sitting on the toilet only goes so far.
“Here you go,” he says, handing the mug back. “Lena is coming by with some stuff for me to sign, but this afternoon I have a meeting with the new Chief Security Officer of Jelnyk Mining, who is flying in.”
He sits back down at my small dining table, which has been reclaimed as a desk for Yanis to work from.
Jelnyk is one of our long-term clients. The company has mines all over Latin America and we provide security frameworks for them. Each mine comes with a different set of challenges: product, environment, political unrest, physical landscape, and requires customized security. Although a lot of it can be planned remotely, we need a man on the ground—sometimes for months—during the design phase, and then to make sure the system works effectively.
“Is there a problem at one of the mines?” I want to know, turning to look at him.
He shakes his head. “No, but they’re expanding operations of one of their smaller sites in Peru.”
“Oh. Will you be sending one of the guys out?”
“Depends, it sounds like I may have to make a trip out there myself at some point. I’ll find out more today.”
I nod and turn back to the book I’ve been trying to read. It’s good but a little steamy. Every time things get physical in the story; I become highly aware of Yanis’s proximity and stop reading.
Right now, I have a hard time concentrating on the story at all. I really want that shower but I hate asking him for help. Maybe I can ask Lena.
“What time is Lena coming?”
He lifts his head.
“She said she had an errand to run on her lunch break and would pop in on her way. I’m guessing around noon. Why? Did you need her for something?”