“Leave the bed,” he says, nodding to the tousled sheets and tangled covers. “I’ve got someone coming here to clean while we’re gone.”
Gone? A little thrill goes through me.
I don’t argue the cleaners point. Though I want to be the one that still cares for him, I’ve got no objections whatsoever to letting someone else make the bed and mop our floors.
Where are we going?
He reaches for me and draws me close, pressed flat up against him. Kissing my forehead, he holds the back of my head, then looks in my eyes. “You’re a good girl being patient,” he says, and it warms me to the tips of my toes. “We’re going away. I’ve arranged for everything so we can go for a full week. We need a break, the two of us, and I can trust Nicolai to lead in my absence.”
I grin. “Really? Are we going far?”
“Not this time. I don’t want to go too far because Marissa is so close to having the baby.”
I nod and smile. It’s true. I hosted a baby shower here at the house just last week, and Stefan and Nicolai spent all last weekend sorting things out and hauling them over to their place.
“Now no more questions. It was hard enough to plan a surprise for you.”
He leads me to where a car is waiting. Marissa stands with Nicolai a few yards off, her hand resting on her ample belly. They wave at us, and I wave back.
Since my mother died, the “found” family I have within the Bratva mean more to me than ever. I’m excited about Marissa and Nicolai’s baby.
What does our future hold? He’s older than I am. Does that mean he wants no more children? I wouldn’t blame him, though I have to admit I’d love a child of my own.
Our relationship is so new. We have to discuss this and so many more things. But we will. And the knowledge gives me a deep, abiding sense of satisfaction. We have days and weeks and months and years together to get to know each other. To learn what makes the one another tick. To learn how to love each other more deeply, more profoundly.
And I’ll revel in those days. If there’s anything I’ve learned with the loss of my mother and the short trip to Russia, it’s that things can change in the blink of an eye. No one knows what tomorrow brings, how quickly circumstances can change. It makes me grateful for every moment I have. Some long for the future, pinning their hopes and dreams on uncertainty and wishes. But me… I try to revel in the present. And right now, I’m going on a trip with the man I love.
He helps me into the car, though I don’t need help. It’s something he likes to do for me, so I let him. “Buckle up,” he orders. I do, and he joins me, then he speaks briefly to the driver.
And we’re off.
“Okay, so now I’ll tell you,” he says, taking my hand and giving me a little squeeze. “I’ve booked a week away at a luxury suite. Just the two of us. But we’ll be right in downtown Atlanta, and Marissa mapped out the best photography galleries to visit.”
I blink in surprise and my throat gets a little tight. I smile at him.
“Did she?”
“Yeah,” he says, his own eyes shining when he sees me grin. “Tonight, we’re going to a showing. Marc Adamus? I guess he’s—”
“Oh, just one of the most amazing modern-day landscape photographers known to man,” I sputter. “Oh my God, what that man does with light and setting—”
He chuckles. “Sound good, then? You know I’d rather stick toothpicks under my fingernails then go to an art show, but…” He brushes his thumb over the top of my hand. “If it makes you happy, it makes me happy.”
I swallow hard. “It makes me happy,” I whisper.
“I like that,” he says softly. “So, first, we check into our hotel. Then tonight we’ll get dinner and head to the gallery. Sound good?”
“Sounds perfect.”
And it is.
We arrive at our hotel, and he gets our bags situated. I plop on the massive bed, and stare at the beautiful room. I’ve never seen anything like this before. The walls are silver, the carpet navy, the bed decorated in crisp white linen. A vase of vibrant red roses sits beside a bottle of champagne. Huge, crystal clear windows give us an amazing view of the city’s highrises. The room is spacious and beautiful, but I only have eyes for the man who’s prowling toward me with a hungry look in his eyes.
“I’ve got you alone,” he says huskily.
“You get me alone every day,” I tease.
“But not this way,” he says. And he doesn’t have to explain what he means. Here, there are no responsibilities or demands we need to meet. Here, we can revel in each other for a little while. He kneels beside me and takes my hand.