The door to my study opened slowly, followed by tentative footsteps and a familiar silhouette in the doorway.

Nik stood there, his hair damp from the rain outside. He took a look around my study, wrinkling his nose at the messy pile of files on my coffee table.

"You're still working?"

I took a sip of my coffee, returning my eyes to my laptop screen. Anya had given me extra work. "I'm always busy. What is it?"

"You have a visitor."

"This late?" I scowled. "Tell them to schedule an appointment tomorrow and I might consider seeing them if they're lucky."

"That's a bit harsh. You could at least ask who it is first?" Nik stepped aside, letting someone through. "You might never know who shows up, right?"

"Meera?" I called out. I stood up as a head of dark hair peeked out from behind the door, dark brown eyes looking around curiously.

"Hey," she said softly, stepping into the study. Meera closed the door behind her carefully as if she didn't want to make a sound. "Nik said you were in here. I hope you don't mind. I know it's late but I just wanted to see you and you didn't answer your phone so——"

I crossed the study floor in a few steps and pulled her into a hug. Meera leaned up on her toes, wrapping her arms around my trunk and resting her chin on my shoulder. The smell of her perfume filled my senses immediately.

Nik rolled his eyes but we ignored him.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, pulling away. I held her face in my hands, searching her eyes for any sign of distress. "Are you hurt? Is everything okay?"

"Ivan," she huffed. Meera grabbed my fretting hand, squeezing gently.

Meera pressed her lips to my cheek, just underneath my eye. Her fingers were on the nape of my neck, slowly rubbing circles there. I felt myself relax a bit, leaning against her smaller frame.

"You look so tired," she said softly, pulling away. Her fingers were still on my nape. "I didn't notice."

I chuckled, glancing at the messenger bag she was carrying. "It's just that work ran a bit late. That's all."

"Is it because of lunch?" Meera asked.

"No," I said, shaking my head. "Busy schedule. Anya's get petty. I don't spend all my time...well, being a gangster."

"I know."

I sighed. "I'm so happy you're here."

"Ivan," she said, clutching onto me. "I'm sorry for coming here like this."

"Why are you trembling?" I asked "Meera?" I called out her name. She leaned down, laying her head on my chest.

"Well!" Nik clapped, backing out slowly. "I'll just be going then. Have fun, you two!" He closed the door with a soft click, leaving the both of us alone. I barely even paid attention to it.

"I'm sorry, Ivan," she said, looking away from me. "I think I might have messed up."

"What happened?" I asked, gritting my teeth.

"My family." She said, running her fingers through her hair in frustration. "That's what happened. Someone broke into the apartment."

"Fuck."

Meera gave me a bitter smile. "That's an understatement."

I kissed the crown of her head. "Come on," I murmured into her hair.  "You can keep me company while I make some calls. Whoever did this isn't going to get far."

"I'd like that," she said.

I led her to the fireplace when I had laid out all of my paperwork and laptop. Meera raised an eyebrow at the small mess.

"I'm a bit messy when I work," I explained, pulling out my phone.

"That's fine," she said, holding up her bag. "I'm a neat freak. I think we'll manage."

Meera sat next to me on the rug, her fingers entwined with mine. She flipped through her files, marking things down with brightly coloured post-it notes. She worked quietly, but I could tell how distracted she was. I knew rage, I knew anger, and I knew the overwhelming feeling of fury. Right now, it was only Meera that was keeping me from flying off the handle.

"Hello?" Eddie answered groggily.

"Nat's and Meera's apartment got broken into," I said without a greeting.

"Fuck!" He swore. I could hear the sound of scuffling in the background and someone colourful cursing. "Any idea who it was?"

"Yeah. Someone named Vanni? Young woman, early twenties. Really posh."  glanced over at Meera who nodded her head, confirming my description. "She'll probably have some scratch marks on the right side of her face."

Eddie grunted. "Got it, boss. I'll round up some of our boys. We'll find her." He clears his throat. "How's the doc?"

"She's okay." I lowered my voice. "A bit shaken."

"Okay. Take care of her."

"Check all the records. Hotel, airport, even the fucking car rental. I want to know where she is and what shit hope she's hiding in." I said, leaving no room for argument.

"You got it, boss!"

I ended the call and placed the phone down on the table. Meera looked up from her papers, quizzically staring at me.

I smiled and sat down next to her.

I shifted my eyes over to her again. Meera bit the end of her pen, her eyebrows forming a crease as she read something. Her fingers absently played with mine, drawing absent patterns against the back of my hand.

She looked ethereal in the bright light of the fireplace. The hazy glow of the flames illuminated her face softly, making her brown eyes dance. I wondered how often people looked at Meera—-actually looked at her, past the glasses and scarves and cutting wit. How did they not see how beautiful she was?

I glanced at the clock, tearing my eyes away from her. The minute hand was creeping closer and closer to one am in the morning. I briefly tussled with the idea of calling it a night but I could feel how my back aches when I shifted and decided.

"Hey," I said softly, closing my laptop. "It's almost one am."

Meera popped her head up. "Already?"

I leaned back on the foot of the couch. My thumb brushed over her knuckles. "I'm afraid it's already the morning."

She yawned and lifted her hand to cover her mouth. "It's not morning till the sun rises, Ivan."

"Maybe I'm an early bird."

Meera rolls her eyes. "I'm not."

"I know."

"I guess we should call it a night," She said, gathering all her files and books. "Nat is probably worried."

I groaned. "You make her sound like she's your mother."

"She's overprotective...that's all," Meera chuckled. She looked over her shoulder, a smirk on her face. "Must be a Farewell thing, I suppose."

"I'm not overprotective," I muttered.

Meera held up her index and thumb. "Just a tiny bit!"

I scoffed, "I'm not."

"There's nothing wrong with wanting to protect the ones you care about, Ivan. It's only when someone becomes possessive that it's a problem." Meera left her bag behind and came to kneel in front of me. She gave me a soft look. "But I like it when you give a damn."

I glance at the clock again, worrying my bottom lip.

"You're one of the best things in my life, sweetheart. I don't want to lose you." I said, blurting the words out. "You have no idea what type of man I was like before all of this. I think you'd hate him. He was a miserable bastard."

"Does that man still exist?" She asked.

"No," I shake my head. "He died quite some time ago."

"Then I don't care. I like the man you are now. And I think I could learn to like the man you were as well," Meera said, cupping my face with her hand. I turned my face, my lips pressing against the bare skin of her wrist. "I might not know every part of you, Ivan, and that's okay. I have parts of me that I don't want you to see so I can understand."

I nod slowly. I reached out and pull her close to me. Meera falls between my legs, her hands bracing on my chest. I lift my hand to trace from the corner of her eyes, down the line of her cheek and across her bottom lips.

Her eyes are half-lidded, staring at me. I look back, wondering what she saw in me.

"You're so lovely, I said, brushing her hair behind her ear.

Meera bit down on her lip and for a moment I wondered if I fucked this up. I opened my mouth to say something but Meera nodded once, reaching out for me.

I felt her hands tilt my face up to her. I closed my eyes when her lips crashed into mine, hot and open-mouthed. Her hands were instantly in my hair, tugging on the strands to create a better angle to deepen the kiss.

God, I needed this.

Meera was warm on top of me, her chest against mine, her tongue in my mouth and the smell of her perfume all around me. I'm so crazy for her it wasn't even funny. Her touch is enough to turn me on. I raised my hands, placing them on her thighs, squeezing gently as I moved them up to rest on her waist, slotting our hips as we ground against each other slowly.

She moaned into my mouth when my hands slid underneath her shirt. Her skin felt feverish as I moved my fingers up, tracing the line of her spine, feeling her move with me.

I pulled away from her lips with a wet smack, reaching heavy as I looked up at her. She looked as hungry as I was. Her hair had come out of its bun, strands falling into her face. Her brown skin flushed, the bridge of her nose and her cheeks reddened.

She looked fucking gorgeous.

"Ivan," she panted, her fingers trying to undo the knot of my tie clumsily.

"I know," I murmured, "Shh, I know, darling."

She made a soft, needy sound when my lips sucked on the spot just below her ear hard enough to leave a bruise. I could lie and say that I felt bad but I didn't.

The feeling from earlier came back, the possessiveness and want. Meera sighed, a shudder running through her when my teeth scraped across her skin. Our rhythm stuttered, her fingers clumsily trying to get the buttons undone.

I grabbed the hem of her sweater and lifted it.

"Ivan," she called out my name breathlessly, her fingers digging into my shoulders. "Wait."

I pull away, reluctantly. She looks wrecked and desperate, her eyes shifting across my face.

I lift my hand, tilting her face gently to the side.

This time hands trembled from anger. There was a set of bruises on her neck. Present on both sides in the shape of fingertips. They're a dark shade of purple, the edges Turing slightly blue. These aren't any of the marks I made. I've seen marks like these before.

"Sweetheart," I said, horrified. My voice trembled with silent fury ad I brushed my fingers over the bruises with my thumb. "Who did this to you?"

Meera stiffens above me. Rage spills over slowly till it clouds my mind in a haze. The lust melts away like snow. Meera looked scared, whether it be because of my tone of voice or the marks on her neck. I pull my hand away, resting it on the armrest. My nails sink into the soft material.

"I'm going to kill her," I said not even bothering to hide my anger. "I don't care if she's your sister."

"Please don't." Meera wrapped her arms around me, pulling my face against her bare shoulder. I inhale the scent of her perfume. "I'm just as mad right now. Killing her isn't going to solve this problem."

I scowl and leaned back, pulling Meera down onto me. "I don't let anyone get away with hurting the people I care about. Ever."

"I don't want you to kill her!" She yells.

"What do you want me to do?!"

Meera sighed and got off of my lap. She settled down next to me, pulling her knees close to her chest. "Let her go."

"After what she did to you?" I asked, frustrated. "Not a chance."

"She's not worth killing. Please, don't kill her. Vanni is my family," Meera said, her tone pleading. "I don't want any more of my family to die."

I take a deep breath in and slowly release it. It doesn't make me feel any better. The rage is still there, it lingers like a horrible mist.

Why is she asking me not to kill her? Why isn't she as angry as I am. I can't stand to see those bruises on her neck knowing that someone had dared to harm her. I lift my hand, running my fingers through her hair. She turns her head, laying her cheek on my chest and listened to my heart. Meera could probably hear it.

"Okay," I said, conceding. Meera looked up in surprise, her mouth hanging open. "I won't kill her. But that doesn't mean that I won't bring her in."

Vanni or whoever the hell she wasn't going to get away with this so easily. If I couldn't kill her then at least I could use her for information. If Meera's family was trying to start a fight with me then I wanted to be ready and have Meera ready. One day, maybe soon, she was going to have to face them head-on. The thought left me with a feeling of dread, I know Meera is strong——it's one of the many reasons I love her.

We lay there for a good thirty minutes, just listening to each other breathe.

Meera's sweater was hanging on the settee and she didn't want to pick it up. I wrapped the afghan around her shoulders when she shivers.

"Why do you freeze?" I ask, tracing lines along her back.

"When?" Her head rested on my shoulder, playing with the material of my collar.

"Earlier today. Am I doing something wrong?"

"You're not." She said.

"Have you had any......" I paused searching for a word, "Experience?"

Meera coughed into her fist, holding back laughter. I felt my ears turn pink and I wondered how I was such a mess around this woman.

A giggle escaped her lips. It was such a lovely sound. Why the hell was it cute? And why the hell did I like it?! Meera leaned forward, hiding her giggles in the material of my shirt. I could feel her shoulders shaking.

"It's a perfectly valid question," I said.

"Don't pout, Ivan," She cleared her throat after holding back her laughter. "If you're asking if I had sex, Probably not much as you but yes.....I suppose you could call it experience."

"What do you mean by 'not as much as you have?'" I asked, a little bit affronted.

Meera smiled sheepishly, looking at me through her eyelashes. "Well, you're handsome, Ivan."

I raised my eyebrow. "Okay? And?"

"And you're smart, successful, and witty."

"Thank you?"

"It's a compliment," she said, placing her palms on my chest. "You're perfect, Ivan. Who wouldn't be throwing themselves at you?"

And if that wasn't just fucking great? My relationships with women boiled down to one-night stands which lead nowhere and a handful of long-term relationships that also lead nowhere. I know women liked to throw themselves at me. I'm not blind. I have a mirror. I just don't obsess over my appearance like Nik does every morning. And being Ivan Farewell, a young and rich bachelor with a successful company did help when it came to dating. It felt ridiculous half of the time, most of the women I went on dates with always expected me to act a certain way, dress a certain way, and talk a certain way. I was never just Ivan to them, I was Ivan Farewell.

Maybe that's why I was so drawn to Meera. She made me feel like myself. Just Ivan, not some sick fantasy.

I could feel the soft breath against my neck. I barely repressed a shiver when her fingers traced random patterns over my chest. I didn't know if she was doing it unconsciously or not. But it felt amazing.

"Would you be mad if I agree with your statement?" I asked, kissing her hand.

Meera huffed out a laugh. "No."

"That's okay," I said, I wondered if I needed to take a cold shower in holy water after this. "You can get off of me now."

"Oh! Okay!" She scrambled off my lap, sitting awkwardly next to me.  Her hands were balled into fists in her lap.

I stood up and took both of her hands in mine, kneeling in front of her.

"Meera, I am willing to take whatever you give me. If you want to take it slow, that's fine. The last thing I want to do is pressure you into anything that you're not comfortable with."

"That's the thing though." She said, squeezing my hand back. She looked into my eyes as she said this. "Remember what I said in the garden. I do want you. It's almost ridiculous. I'm just scared I suppose. It's been a while since I've been in a relationship and I guess.......I'm not used to having someone like me for what I am."

"And that's fine," I said, giving her an understanding smile. "I'm willing to wait. I like what we have too and I want to spend time with you. Big Fancy restaurants or small picnic dates, I don't care. As long as I'm with you, it's fine with me."

I kissed her forehead like I always do. It had quickly become something I liked to do. It was a perfect way to say "hello" or "bye, I'll see you soon" or "everything's going to be okay." Strange how one simple gesture had so many different meanings.

"Look, it's late," I said. "Stay with me in my room tonight."

"I don't want to impose."

"You're not. It's more for my sanity than yours." I nodded towards the windows. "I want you to stay. We don't have to do anything. We can just sleep."

Meera looked up with wide eyes, her lips parted. "Ivan?"

Maybe that was a bit too forward for me. "If you want, I can show you to one of the guest rooms. Whatever is comfortable."

She bit her lips and glanced over at the door to my study. Her hands were still in mine. After a moment she looked back at me, her eyes shining in the lamplight.

"I want to stay with you."

"Okay," I said, mentally breathing a sigh of relief. "Come on."

*****

I sat on the bed, slipping off my robe and hanging it on the chair. I picked at the hem of my shirt, wondering if I should take it off or not. Normally I slept shirtless.

Before I could make a decision, the door to the bathroom swung open. Meera came out, with the smell of my body wash on her. Her long hair was damp, some strands still sticking to her cheek. I had given her some of my clothes. The tee shirt was too big. On me, it was a bit tight, all the way up to my neck but on Meera, it hung loosely showing off her collar bones. And the sweatpants had to be folded at the ankle so that they didn't drag around on the floor.

I was acutely aware of every movement she made. The way her hand brushed against mine or the how she flicked her hair back or the way she sighed when she encountered something difficult. I remembered earlier today and how I felt like I was drowning in her, the feel of her hands and the taste of her lips.

How I suddenly wanted to press her to the nearest surface and just—I felt a flush crawl it's way to my neck and touch my cheeks at the memory. It had been barely half a day.

It was an overwhelming feeling. I was a greedy bastard and I wanted more of it. Meera always made me feel a certain way, this was no different. Honestly, I wanted her more than anything.

It's unfair how Meera could make me feel like such a disaster. All she had to do was smile at me and I felt like my knees would turn to goo.

But then again.....it is Meera. And despite all my protests, I liked the way she made me feel. Most of all, I like the way that she treated me. There was no hesitation with Meera, her affection was firm and steady,......and I loved it.

The bruises on her neck were there, slowly turning purple. I feel my jaw clenched, my teeth aching at the force. I turn away, glaring down at my hands.

"Thanks for lending me some of your clothes." She said behind me. "They're surprisingly comfy."

"Um...." I forced myself to let my anger go, I take a deep breath and let it out before turning around, leaning on the vanity. I kept a smile on my face. "Yeah. They look good on you."

She was brushing her hands through her hair, tying it onto a braid. Meera smiled and came over to me. Meera placed her hands on my shoulders and gave me a peck on the lips.

"You overwork yourself." She said, gently massaging my temples. "You're all tense."

"That's a hypocritical statement, don't you think," I gave her a pointed look. "You look like you're about to fall asleep on the floor."

"Like calls to like."

"Bed," I said, grabbing her by her shoulders and marching her towards the bed. "Now." I pull the covers back and get in. Meera follows, immediately curling up underneath the covers.

"You have a very comfortable bed," she said, closing her eyes. "It's bigger than mine."

"I know." I turned over, to look at her. She looked like she was half asleep. "My back hurts sometimes. I need it for that."

"Old man," she says affectionately. I know it's not with any malice. "Why does it hurt?"

"As I said, I work too hard."

"We're workaholics, aren't we. I think we have a problem."

"Maybe we could take a vacation," I suggested. "We could go anywhere we'd like."

Meera hummed, "And where would you like to go, Mr Farewell?"

"Russia."

"That's a surprise," Meera said, cracking her eyes open just a little bit. "I thought you'd say France."

I laughed, turning over onto my back and staring up at the ceiling. "Why because I like poetry? You'd be surprised how much my mother loved Paris in the spring. It used to be our family vacation until......well, you know."

She nodded, shuffling closer to me. "Tell me more." She said, sleepily.

"I'm half Russian," I said, wrapping an arm around her instinctively. "My mother is Russian and my father is Irish. I used to visit there in the summers to see her family. She lived in a city just 50 miles outside of Moscow. It had a beautiful lake that I used to skate on."

"Can you speak Russian?"

I turned my head and said; "Da."

Meera snorted, pressing her face into my shoulder to hide her laughter. "Besides that?"

"I'm fluent in French as well," I said, smiling up at the ceiling. "Mom was adamant that we know how to speak it. She'd make us converse in Russian or French at dinner for practice. It used to drive my father crazy."

I wished I could have introduced Meera to my father. I like to think that he'd grow to adore her as much as I have, it would be slow but I'm sure Meera would've won him over.

"I miss him," I said. "I miss the man, not what—who— he was."

"Ivan...." Her lips were right next to my ear. "I'm so sorry."

"I'll tell you more about him one day. When it doesn't hurt."

"Can I hug you?" Meera asked softly in the darkness.

Lines of moonlight crossed Meera's face, making her dark eyes glitter. She looked pensive, his fingers clutching the pillow as she waited for my answer.

I nodded and rolled over to my side. Meera's wrapped her arms around my middle, pressing her forehead between my shoulder blades. I could feel her chest against my back. I was quiet for a long time, all I could hear was the sound of her breathing and chest as it moved with mine. Meera lifted her head to see if I had fallen asleep instead. I could feel her hand gently brush through my hair, pulling me to sleep.

"Goodnight, Ivan," she said, sleepily. Her lips brushed across the curve of my shoulder. "Sweet dreams."

I smiled, placing my hands over hers and closing my eyes. "Goodnight, sweetheart."