Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 113324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
He shook his head forcefully. “When someone like you had those needs . . . what I did to you didn’t feel sordid. You made it . . . clean. I went to a place like that club, and I felt hope too.”
I must have looked unconvinced, because he added, “I was right all those years ago. That night of the club, you looked like you were in heaven—and I knew you were mine.”
I recalled how his eyes had glinted, how he’d rested his forehead against my shoulder. He’d told me I was made for him.
“On the ride home, you curled your little fingers into my hair and shivered against me. You sighed like you loved me.” His gaze bored into mine. “I will do anything for that reaction.”
He’d seen how tastes of pain could affect a woman, and he’d internalized that want. This man only yearned to madden me, to take me to new heights. Which meant I wasn’t hurting him!
And he was actually communicating with me.
Right when I was growing convinced that we could make this work, his eyes turned bleak. “But you weren’t mine, were you?”
“I was. I am!” I made a sound of exasperation. “Do you know how frustrating it’s been to fall in love with every facet you let me see—even when I believed you’d never let me see more?”
“Love?” His Adam’s apple bobbed.
“Yes, Sevastyan. I’m willing to work on us, if you are too. If you’ll just keep talking to me, I believe we can handle anything.”
He eyed me suspiciously, as if he couldn’t fathom this turn of events. “You’re giving me another chance?”
“If you’ll give me one too. I do need to learn to be more patient, just like you said.”
He eased closer. “I know I’m not right. But if you help me, I can be better. That’s what I want. Natalie, understand me: I’m . . . asking.”
I was already reaching for him. When he swung me over to straddle his lap, I wrapped my arms around his neck. Against me, his body shuddered as if a weight had been lifted from him—like an overworked muscle finally allowed to rest.
I whispered, “You let me in.”
He could only nod.
“Please don’t shut me out again. As long as you talk to me, I’ll never leave you.”
“I’ll do whatever it takes.”
For what might have been hours, he held me like this. “Sevastyan, what happens now?”
In a voice hoarse with emotion, he said, “Now we go home.”
CHAPTER 45
The Moskva River was almost frozen.
From the pavilion, I watched otters frolicking on blocks of ice. I’d seen a stoat, several hares, and a snowy owl. They were all thriving in these bitter temperatures—a damp cold even more biting than I’d known in Nebraska.
The pavilion was one of my favorite places on the property. I would come here whenever Sevastyan was working.
All around me, Berezka was covered in snow, pristine. Which helped me to forget the fight to the death by the boathouse, the war for control that had raged over these grounds.
Paxán’s untimely death.
Seamless white reminded me that wounds heal.
Though Paxán’s grave site was beautiful—a clearing atop a hill, surrounded by birch trees—I felt closer to him here.
His funeral had been somber, attended by so many who’d loved him. In front of others, Sevastyan hadn’t allowed himself to show grief. Later that night, in front of me, two tears had slid down his face, which might as well have been a thousand for a hardened man like him.
Every day that passed we could think of Paxán with less pain. I was thankful that I’d gotten to spend even that short amount of time with him. In just weeks, he’d changed my fate forever.
His dying wish had been fulfilled: my life was better because he’d been in it.
I glanced over and saw Sevastyan striding toward me, his long charcoal coat whipping about his legs; my heart sped up at the sight of him. I knew that it always would.
The winter sun caught his face as he neared. To look at him now, I would say he’d found some measure of peace. He appeared younger, that weariness I’d first sensed in him lifted. He smiled more often, and I could even make him laugh on occasion.
“Ready to go in?” He offered his arm for the walk back to the main house. We’d redone my wing for the two of us, moving his things from his house on the property.
“All set.” I took his arm with a gloved hand, glancing up at his flushed cheeks and brightened gaze. Sigh.
Over the last month since we’d returned, Sevastyan had been able to disentangle Paxán’s legacy from mafiya concerns; then he’d taken over as vor, though in a scaled-back capacity. Now he focused on protection for Paxán’s territory and people.
And, damn, did the job of protector suit Sevastyan.
“Your gifts for your mother and Jessica arrived from Buccellati today.” Boxes of extravagant jewelry.
Okay, okay, so the money was growing on me.
For Christmas, Sevastyan and I planned to visit Nebraska. I could only imagine what my family and friends would think about my ex-enforcer.
“Thanks for letting me know about the presents,” I told him with a grin. I was pretty sure he sometimes talked just to make some kind of mental “word quota.” I razzed him about that all the time. “Have you thought any more about your brothers?” I’d floated the idea of Sevastyan calling them on Christmas, a tentative start toward something more.
“I . . . haven’t ruled out anything. Though Maksim might think I’m leaning toward his proposal.”
“You have a point.” While I was angling for a mere holiday call, Maksim was angling to unite his might with Sevastyan’s and take over, well, Russia.
Sevastyan hadn’t agreed to anything, but his rivals had caught wind of the potential alliance and backed off considerably. Which meant he didn’t have to work so much.
Maybe he could leave his post this spring and take me around the world?
Or perhaps I’d enroll in school over here. No surprise: I hadn’t decided yet.