Ruthless Saints

“How long?” I ask again.

“Another eight months. I want to spend a year in every country.”

That gives me plenty of time.

“Good,” I murmur, and then I lower my head, claiming her mouth again.

HAILEY

While we talk, we end up lying back down on the couch. My body is half draped over Carson’s, his heart beating beneath my ear.

Drawing lazy patterns on his shirt, I ask, “Did you get the flowers?”

“Yes.” He plays with my hair, pulling his fingers through the strands.

“Good, I was worried you wouldn’t see them.” I glance up at him. “Were you home the entire two weeks?”

The corner of his mouth lifts slightly. “Unless I was following you, yes.”

I slap his chest and push myself up so I can look at him. “You almost gave me a nervous breakdown. Was that you in Bern?” He nods, and it has me narrowing my eyes at him. “Don’t ever do that again.”

“I won’t.”

I lean down again and press a kiss against his mouth, and then I admit, “It’s kinda hot knowing I have such an attractive stalker.”

My words draw a chuckle from him. Bringing my finger to his mouth, I brush the pad over his lips. “You should really smile more.”

“You’re the one with the beautiful smile,” he says, his eyes never leaving my face. “It’s what got my attention.”

My lips curve up at his words. “Yeah?”

Carson nods.

I relax back against him. “Want to know what caught my attention?”

“What?”

“I get this intense vibe from you. At first, I thought you might be trouble, but it turned out you’re just the strong, silent type.” I grin up at him again. “Which is a total turn-on, by the way.”

“What kind of trouble?” he asks.

I shrug. “Probably the bad boy kind. I didn’t actually think about it.” There’s a comfortable pause in the conversation for a minute or so, then I ask, “Did you build your house, or was it there when you moved to Saint Luc?”

“I had it built.”

I glance up at him again. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-five.”

My lips curve up. “You’re three years older than me.” After another pause, I ask, “Was it hard moving from Russia to Switzerland?”

Carson shakes his head. “No, I had my brother.”

“What’s his name?”

“Alexei.” Carson’s features soften, then he adds, “Even though he’s five years older than me, we look like twins.”

“Did he take over raising you after your father passed away?” I ask.

“Yes. He’s very protective of me.”

“Do you think he’ll like me?” I ask, a little worried about what it would mean for us if Alexei didn’t approve of a relationship between us.

When Carson thinks too long about an answer, I push myself up again. “You think he’ll hate me?”

“No. Alexei’s just different. He’s… intimidating.”

“More than you?” I tease.

“Much more, but if you give him time, he’ll warm up to you, and then you’ll be stuck with a big brother for life.”

A grin spreads over my face. “I like the sound of that. I’m an only child. I always wanted an older brother.”

“He’s at my house,” Carson suddenly says.

“Here? Up the road?” I ask to make sure.

He nods at me. “He’s visiting for a while, so you might meet him soon.” Carson sits up and reaching for my hair, he tucks a couple of strands behind my ear. “Demitri’s also visiting. He’s my brother’s best friend.”

“Do you have a best friend?” I ask.

Slowly, Carson nods. “Damien. He’s Demitri’s younger brother. I haven’t seen him in a while, though.”

They sound like a tight group, and it makes me feel better knowing Carson isn’t as alone as I first thought. It has me admitting, “I’m glad you have Alexei visiting. I was worried you were all alone up on the mountain.”

“Is that why you brought the flowers?” he asks, his eyes drifting affectionately over my face.

“Yeah, I just wanted you to know I was thinking of you.”

Carson takes hold of my chin, and leaning forward, he presses a kiss to my mouth. When he pulls back an inch, his eyes lock on mine. His voice is low as he asks, “How often did you think of me?”

“Way more than I should’ve.” I scrunch my nose, then tell him the truth, “All the time.”

He searches my eyes, and not finding the answer, he asks, “How do you feel about me?”

I stare at him for a moment, then go with the truth again. “I think I fell for you somewhere between your second visit to the bar and the night you said goodbye.” I don’t want him to feel bad, but I need to talk about it. “It hurt when you just left like that. I don’t feel it was fair. We could’ve talked things out.”

Carson pulls me against this chest and tucks my head beneath his chin. Wrapping his arms tightly around me, he says, “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”