The moment I opened the door, Ivan walked in and headed straight for the bed, tapping it softly with his hand.

“So, this is where you come when you want to get away from me,” he said, looking up to meet my gaze. His boyish charm made me look away, my cheeks betraying me.

“What are you doing here?” I asked sternly, still refusing to face him.

“Veronica,” he stood up and stepped closer, closing the distance between us. “Why do you make me feel like this is all torture? Do you ...