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She wasn’t sure if he was supposed to have heard him last night. But she did. His heavy arm was draped over her hip, and she lifted it off of her body very gently.
She hurried to the bathroom, and examined herself in the mirror. Gaby gasped. She had a red handprint still on her arse, and there were red marks on her neck, as well as some dark bruises from Illya’s kisses. The worst thing, however, was how sore her body was. They had fucked three times yesterday. Her thighs were aching, and her core burned.
This was not good. Not good at all.
Eventually, Illya awoke to an empty bed and a missing Gaby. He couldn’t fault her; he had done the same a mere day ago.
He couldn’t help but panic over wondering whether she had heard him last night. He had not meant to speak aloud, and yet he had so carelessly. Illya worried for how this could affect them. If there even was a ‘them’.
He dressed himself after glancing in the mirror. He had heavy scratch marks down his back, and dark bruises on his chest and neck. He was sore; aching. This would not do for his mission today.
Shit.
Soon enough, he made his way over to Napoleon’s room. “You are sure Victoria believed you?” He pressed.
“I gave it everything I had.” Napoleon drawled in response with a smirk on his face. “Believe me, i did. I’ve also got another meeting with her later today.”
Illya was pacing. This could be dangerous. Was dangerous. They were sending her directly into the heat of the fire. “So what, we just let Gaby go with Uncle Rudi?”
Napoleon was tinkering with something or other when he replied, “If there’s a chance he’ll lead us to her father, do we really have a choice?”
“This could be like leading lamb to slaughter.” Illya spat.
That was a mistake. Solo sat up, and blinked at him. “Going soft, Peril?” He raised a cocky brow.
“What you talking about?” He retorted. Shit. He had noticed. And Illya had been trying so hard to be subtle.
Just then, Gaby entered. His mouth was suddenly very dry. Illya clenched his jaw.
She looked stunning.
He turned and avoided eye contact with her. He caught Napoleon winking at him.
“Good morning.” Gaby said much too breathily for her liking.
“Good morning. Your tracker is not sending a signal. Are you sure it’s on?” Solo asked.
“I think so.” And just then, she made a very risky decision. Either it would force Illya and Gaby together, or Napoleon would fix it, which meant that Illya would get incredibly furious. Well, maybe not furious. But he seemed like the possessive type. Or perhaps she was shy.
Or, perhaps she was overthinking it.
“Would one of you two like to check?” She asked, hopping up on the table. She lifted her skirt ever so slightly, her already short dress revealing the garter.
Napoleon quirked a brow. “Be my guest,” he smiled with a gesture to Illya.
He paled. “It’s your tracker.” Illya muttered.
“You’re the expert. I’ll be on the balcony.” Napoleon raised another suggestive brow.
She turned to Illya. And the look in his eyes made her stomach drop. He was so focused on her.
“What was that about?” She smiled, but it was all a facade. She had to almost push her words out by force. Illya merely shook his head. “Cowboy is stupid.”
He rubbed his hands together, attempting to generate heat in his cold hands.
They weren’t so cold last night.
He placed his hands on Gaby’s thigh, and she let out a gasp so similar to what he had heard emanating from her last night. He had to physically hold himself back.
“They’re still cold.” She whispered.
“Sorry.”
He did not glance down.
“What are you doing down there?” She had an unfamiliar lilt to her voice.
“Trying not to get lost.” He raised his brows at her.
“It’s not like you haven’t seen it all already.” She breathed. They had been holding eye contact for a few seconds but it still felt so long. “Experienced it all.”
His eyes flickered to her lips. Back to her eyes. To her lips.
“Choose one spot to look at, Illya.” Gaby looked down at him, for once taller than Illya. But they were breathing face to face again, and you could cut the tension with a knife.
“Gaby…” he trailed off.
“Listen, if I come back today-“
He cut her off right here.
“When you come back today,” he corrected her.
She smiled a tiny bit. “When I come back today, we should talk.”
“Yes we really should.” He swallowed thickly. She was only a few inches taller than him, on the table. They leaned their heads together, their foreheads touching. Leaning on each other. Relying on one another to stay upright.
“We really should.” She repeated in a mere whisper. “Illya.”
“Yes?”
“I’m sorry.”
“What for?”
“For what’s going to happen today.”
Illya frowned. “What do you mean, for-“
“Alright,” Napoleon entered the room again. “Hope you two have done whatever you needed to do, because we really should head off now.”
He cast Gaby a worried look. What she said appeared to be foreboding. A warning. And he did not like it one bit.