I stood right in front of her and waited. When she offered nothing, I prompted, “Well?”
Cora blinked hazily. Her response came out half muffled from the pillow she was now drooling on. “I can’t feel my anything.”
My brows bunched. “Is that good or…?” She grunted affirmative, and as I looked down at her sorry form, I laughed softly. “Damn, girl. Finally. Didn’t I tell you we’d get it done? You got dicked down.”
A bark of laughter left her. Still fuzzy in the eyes, she let out a bemused, “That’s the thing. He never even went there. We just”—her voice sounded faraway—“played.” She licked her lips, then twisted to frown up at me. That was when she whispered, “I’ve never been played with like that before.”
Well, hell. Now I was curious. “How?”
“Like he wanted to pleasure me so hard I’d die from it.” Her tone was reflective.
Okay. That was very specific.
I sat down on my wooden coffee table, patient and watchful, as a whole range of emotions flittered across her face. And when at long last she settled on melancholy, I wasn’t expecting what she said, slow and determined.
“I am going to make that man my husband.”
My expression stunned, I did a tiny double-take.
Pardon me, ma’am?
Cora didn’t talk marriage. It was quite literally the one thing she was happiest about when she walked out on her family, that she wouldn’t be forced into marriage, as she never wanted to be tied to anyone. She called it a death sentence. And here she was, talking about getting herself a husband.
Unbelievable. I was stunned speechless.
Somehow, this broken and scarred man had unwittingly mended the guarded and wary part of Cora’s heart.
The question was, would he allow her to repair the damaged part of his?
9
Nastasia
The second I woke with a pounding headache, I should have guessed something was wrong. My brow creased as I threw open my curtains and squinted out into the gray morning. Fat droplets of rain fell onto my windowpane. Maybe that should have tipped me off too.
It made sense for it to rain on days like this one. It would have been hard for the sun to shine through the darkness that plagued me.
I was midstretch, my tank lifting to reveal my bare stomach, when I heard it.
“Hello, dear.”
And I stilled. My eyes widened a touch, but I maintained my cool appearance. My mind, however, thrummed. A deep buzzing sound replacing my every thought. Static feedback. Nails on a chalkboard.
Oh God.
She’s back.
“I see that even though you’re grown, you still have that defiant, immature streak.”
My fingers twitched. I swallowed hard but turned to look at her, sitting on the edge of my bed with one leg resting over the other, posed primly, looking the picture of poise, dressed in the clothes she was wearing the day she left. And my heart stuttered.
The woman turned, and I sucked in a short breath.
I looked like her. A lot more now than I had then.
Her small smile held reprimand. “Ignoring your mother. Really?”
Walk away. If you don’t talk to her, she’ll leave you alone.
Stuck in mud, I simply stared a while as distress washed over me.
No. No, no, no.
I thought we were past this.
Turning away, I shook my head in an attempt to clear it, focused straight ahead at the wall, and then my feet were moving, taking me toward the bathroom. Once inside, I looked around and breathed a sigh of relief when I saw she hadn’t joined me.
I blew out a long breath, ignoring the way my heart pounded, and picked up my toothbrush with a shaking hand. I went about the motions, brushing my teeth mechanically as I wondered what today’s date was.
“Tell me, rypka. Where is your darling, handsome Viktor?”
My movements came to a halt as I peered into the mirror to find her standing in my bathroom, looking around curiously. And when she looked back at me, there was a glint in her eyes. Her red lips tipped upward, looking every bit the smile, but there was something sinister to it. “Ah, yes. You’ve driven him away.”
Before I could stop myself, I uttered a rough, “I broke up with him.”
Catching myself, I immediately felt stupid, lowering my face and shaking my head in frustration.
Goddammit. I was talking to a figment of my imagination.
“You think that matters? Darling, be honest. If not to me, then to yourself. He was never good enough for you.”
My toothbrush fell into the sink with a clink. My hands, now splayed on my vanity, trembled. “That’s not true.”
“Isn’t it?”
Viktor was kind and funny and sweet. “He’s a good man.”
My mother approached slowly, her heeled footsteps clicking softly as she held my gaze and stepped closer to my back. “Then why do you push, and push, and push him away, Nastasia?”
I opened my mouth to speak but found I had no good answer for that. The silence between us went on for what felt like days.