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Holding hands, we walked up the cobblestone steps. His eyes glanced at my face for ten seconds during the last five minutes, and he leaned over and whispered “krasotka” in my ear.
The need in his voice made me ache in all the new spots he’d awakened. I tapped his hand, a playful signal to behave. The party was already in full swing; soft music played when we entered and there were more people than I expected.
Before I met Rafa, social events were not my thing. Lately, I thought I'd had enough of them, but I couldn’t say no because he would never allow it, he insisted on having his wife by his side. So, I swallowed my reservations and moved on.
As we entered the bustling room, the air was filled with laughter and conversation. This was a charity event, and the atmosphere was filled with a sense of community and generosity. The room was adorned with elegant decorations and the champagne was flowing freely.
We strolled to a table dedicated to education, where volunteers explained how the funds raised would provide underprivileged children with access to quality education. The enthusiasm in their voices was infectious and while I felt a surge of motivation to contribute, Rafail seemed bored.
He led me away and rubbed the small of my back with his thumb.
“You should go and mingle.” I smiled to myself. Ten seconds–five minutes. His eyes heated the side of my face. “The room begs for your attention.”
“The room can wait.” He wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me to his side. “Your little black dress is a worthy distraction.”
Six months and he was still obsessed with me. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
My skin tingled in anticipation. I wanted him to touch me, to kiss me. But we were in the presence of people, and I had to control the wild urges that threatened to consume me. “A distraction from what?”
He wrinkled his nose, his eyes coasting over the chirpy female guests and grim-looking men in flashy suits. “It is all about boring discussions about donations for a noble cause. Shallow minds.”
I directed an arched brow at him. “And you don’t like that? Noble causes?”
His words were soft, but his eyes remained dark. “You know I am anything but noble, my princess.”
That sent a delicious shiver down my spine and my toes curled up in my shoes. “And I love you just like that,” I murmured, feeling exposed as his grip on my waist loosened. This was what he turned me into; a love-sick puppy because that’s exactly what I was.
In love.
I loved him so fiercely that I thought my heart would combust. Normal people might have said we had a toxic addiction, but there was nothing normal about us.
“I know,” he whispered, kissed my shoulder, and pressed something into my hands. He turned and walked away and giving me a good view of his ass and solid back as he disappeared into the crowd.
I stared at my hand. He’d folded a cocktail napkin, and it had a little note on it.
Meet me behind the stage in thirty minutes.
Rafa x
I stuffed it in my purse and walked towards the bar with a wide smile on my lips.
After two glasses of red wine, I began to feel bored without Rafail by my side. With one arm tucked under the other, I scanned the room and stopped. I was startled when I spotted curly auburn hair in a group of brunettes.
I went over to her. I tapped her briefly on the shoulder and she turned around. “Ava. What are you doing here?”
The look of surprise on her face showed that she hadn’t expected to see me here either.
She searched my face, probably to check if I was okay, before embracing me. “Juliana?—It’s so good to see you again.” Her expression sobered and she hugged me again. “I’m so sorry, I heard about what happened with Liam.”
I managed a tight smile. Hearing his name again tore at the wounds of recovery. It was better to talk about something else than to mention him. I knew I was healed, but not completely.
“I’m fine now.”
Her green eyes bore into mine, eyeing surreptitiously, and understanding settled. “Of course, you are. You and Mr. Varkov have been making quite some news.”
“News?” That revelation was unexpected. I imagined tabloids, newspapers, and social media broadcasts.
Rafail was as private as the word itself. Unnecessary attention irritated him. In the real world, apart from his status as a successful tycoon, no one knew more about him than he wanted them to. “What news?”
