“I love you.” It came out on a deep exhale but I heard it as if he had shouted it at the top of his lungs. My heart sped up. My hands slowed down. Tears pooled in my eyes; tears of surrender and love. “I can’t stop…I can’t stop myself from loving you.”
I swallowed hard. He said it with such unabashed sincerity that it made my conscience hurt. His thick fan of lashes lifted and his eyes met mine, where undiluted love and hope stared back at me.
“I love you, too.” Gripped with fear, I wasn’t even certain that sound came out of my mouth. His face relaxed as he released the breath he was holding.
“Thank God…thank God,” he whispered repeatedly. And then the dam broke, unleashing a surge of emotion so powerful he couldn’t manage it. His mouth crashed into mine. He murmured ‘I love you’ in between every feverish kiss, touch, and stroke. His infectious, unbridled excitement transformed my worries into giggles. After discarding the condom, he climbed back into bed and held me, pressing me to him as if he couldn’t get close enough. We were both quiet as we discovered each other all over again.
“Tired?” he asked.
I traced the contours of his lips with my finger and nodded. “It’s been an eventful day. You look…perky. How are you not tired after drinking a bottle of whiskey?”
The side of his mouth crept up slowly. “No one’s ever had the balls to call me perky to my face.”
“Until I came along,” I said laughing.
“There was nothing before you,” he mumbled, his expression turning so serious that my smile faded. “I had half a glass. There was barely any left. Charles must have gone through an entire case when he was here…tell me about your friend.” Well that didn’t take long. Only I could find that commanding tone endearing.
“Emilia is more than a friend, she’s practically family. We grew up together. Unfortunately she’s been dating a nightclub owner named Yuri Skilenski.”
“I’ve heard of him,” he said, deep thought marking his brow. “Doesn’t he have ties to the Russian mob?”
“The very one. We’ve argued about it but she won’t listen. She called me this afternoon in tears. He beat her up pretty badly, broke a rib, I think.”
Turning onto his back, he blew out a deep breath. “Are you telling me…that you went to that fucker’s place––alone?” Oh…no. I knew that look. “Do you have any idea how incredibly stupid and dangerous that was?”
“Sebastian––”
“No! Don’t say another fucking word,” he interrupted. “What if he’d been there? What if…” Pinning me with a wide, furious glare, he shoved his fingers in his hair and left some pieces standing straight. I sighed audibly as I stared at those wisps of hair sticking up.
Apparently he wasn’t satisfied because he kicked off the covers, stormed out of bed, and dialed his cellphone. “Don’t let Vera out of your sight for a minute. Yeah, she’s sneaky. I want someone watching her every move from now on. I don’t care if you have to follow her into the toilet, okay.”
Click.
I glared back. “Don’t you think you’re overreacting just a bit?”
“I want you to listen closely,” he said in a low, steady voice. “I love you.”
The sweetly vulnerable look on his face made my heart hurt. “I love you, too.”
“But I’ve never been in love before.” His tone managed to encompass the magnitude of that confession. Had I been standing I would’ve crumpled to my knees. My mind was still in neutral, processing what he had revealed, when he continued. “I won’t have you risking your safety because of some misplaced loyalty to a friend. She’s in a relationship with a fucking criminal that likes to use her as punching bag.”
Maybe he had a point. I hated it when he made sense. He looked truly worried and I didn’t want to do that to him.“Can you come back to bed, please?”
He stood splendidly naked, all six foot three of him, with his hands on his hips, glaring. I wanted to kiss him everywhere. “Are we going to argue about this?”
“No.”
He climbed back into bed and pushed me down on my back, caging me with his big, warm body. He searched my eyes, and dropped a soft kiss on my nose. “I love you, damn it. There isn’t anything I won’t do to keep you safe and smiling.”
I drank his words in, soaked them up like parched earth and spring rain. And then I remembered… “I have to ask you something.”
His gaze sharpened. “Anything.” I hesitated, didn’t know how to begin. The words got caught on my lips. “What is it, lover?” he said, coaxing gently.
“The night we stayed over at your apartment, you were talking in your sleep.”
His head cocked. “I did?”
“It sounded like you were dreaming…about your wife.” We never spoke about her and I liked it that way. It was even hard for me to say the word.