Chapter 6
Naomi
“What do you think you are doing?”
I clenched my hand into a fist as I stared at a very pissed-off Roman. I had been so engrossed in hearing Gavril’s voice that I hadn’t heard Roman come into the study, but at least I had done what I had set out to do.
My husband was coming for me. He knew my location, and I could expect him to be here as soon as he could and to take me back home, back where I belonged. Even in Roman’s home, I didn’t feel completely safe and secure.
No, there was only one person that could make me feel like that, and he was coming for me.
“I did what I had to do,” I replied, standing up to him when normally I wouldn’t have. “I handled my shit when you wouldn’t.”
Roman blew out a long breath as he set the phone back on the receiver. “While I appreciate that you weren’t willing to listen to me and went about it your own way, you have no idea what you have truly done.”
A bit of my bravado left me at his resignation, a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. It couldn’t be that bad, could it?
“Then why don’t you enlighten me?”
Roman’s mouth worked as if he was trying to choose his words wisely.
“That phone,” he finally said. “Was likely bugged by half the FBI and anyone else that chooses to listen to my phone calls. It’s why I don’t use my landline.”
Oh. I wanted to retort and ask him why he even had it then but decided against my biting words.
“You just waved a flag and told everyone that you were here in my home,” he finished, crossing his arms over his chest. “Which I’m not sure I really appreciate at this moment, given the questions that I am likely going to have to answer.”
I swallowed hard. I had screwed up, and if I hadn’t been so desperate to get in touch with Gavril, I might have paused and thought about it. “I’m sorry.”
Roman pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly frustrated by my actions. “So forgive me if I don’t readily accept your apology.”
His words pissed me off. It was his fault that I’d had to resort to sneaking around and calling Gavril. “If you had only let me call my husband earlier,” I bit out, letting my anger come out in full force. “Then I might not have violated some stupid rule that you didn’t bother telling me!”
Roman was no longer doing anything but staring at me with wide eyes. “What did you say?”
I thought about my words. “Which part?” What was he so shocked about?
“Your husband,” he said slowly. “Gavril Kirilenko is your husband?”
Well, crap. Technically he wasn’t my husband, given that he had married Sveta, who wasn’t even alive to sign the marriage certificate. “He is,” I decided. I mean, I was carrying his child, and I had actually walked down the aisle to marry Gavril. We were as good as married in my book, so I might as well claim him as my husband.
“Fuck,” Roman muttered, rubbing his hand through his hair. “You need to sit down and explain it to me.”
I took a seat in one of the comfortable chairs near the fireplace and Roman took the other, turning on one of the lamps nearby so we were no longer sitting in the dark.
“You know that Kirilenko isn’t high on my list of favorite people,” he continued, resting his hands on his thighs. “You are Ilsa’s best friend, and if he’s done something to coerce you into this shit, then I will protect you from him. I swear it.”
His words were touching but completely unnecessary. “Thanks,” I answered, giving him a tentative smile. “But I promise you that Gavril hasn’t hurt me or coerced me in any way.” I mean, he had technically, but I wasn’t about to tell Roman that.
Not that he would believe me either way. The look he was giving me didn’t look like he believed my words at all. “Go on.”
I rubbed my temple with my fingers, feeling the pressure of a massive headache coming on. “The day of your wedding,” I started, attempting to remember what had happened. It felt like years since I had come back from the island on cloud nine not for only my best friend but for my impending future. “I came back to the city, and when I got to my apartment, there was someone waiting on me.”
Roman kept quiet, and the memories started to pour in one right after another. “They took me to Gavril Kirilenko. He thought I was Sveta Orlov.” I looked up at Roman. “I guess our ruse was too good.”
“It would seem that way,” he muttered.
“I ended up marrying him as Sveta,” I continued, concentrating on the wall over Roman’s left shoulder. “Signed the marriage certificate and everything.” I let out a short laugh. “Needless to say, it didn’t take him long to realize that I wasn’t Sveta at all.”