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Finally, the confusion cleared from her eyes. Giving me a final glance, she then looked down.
My breath caught in my throat when I saw her holding the pen in her hand. The tip touched the paper, and I waited. My heart did that fucking beat again, clenching and then beating faster to a strange rhythm.
I hated it. I hated things that I didn’t understand—and I sure as hell didn’t understand what was wrong with me.
She looked up at me expectantly, her lips parting as if she wanted to say something, but then she closed her mouth, waiting.
When realization dawned to me, I cleared my throat and fought another smile. She was waiting for me.
“What’s your name?” I asked, my voice strangely soft.
Don’t frighten her. Be gentle and you will have her in the palm of your hand, the devil muttered. For a brief second, I imagined him crossing his legs and sipping tea in a cup, being all sassy and shit.
She looked down at her lap again, her hand moving. I peered into the notebook but saw it was blank.
I waited, but instead of writing, she handed the pen to me.
“What is it?” I questioned, taking the pen from her hand. “Is it not working?”
I expected no reaction. But she moved. Her head gave me a small single nod.
The little nun just kept surprising me. Interesting. I cleared my throat again and threw the pen across the room.
“Well, it’s useless then,” I muttered.
She nodded again, peeking up at me behind her eyelashes, almost shyly. I found it…endearing. Giving her my best smile, I fished out a pen that I always kept in my pocket.
I handed it to her without a second thought. “You can use my pen then.”
Taking the pen from my hand, she stared down at the paper. I leaned closer, until her knees were touching my legs. The small shiver of her body gave her away.
I saw the pen moving as she wrote for me. The pen stopped, and she glanced up at me before showing me the notebook. In beautiful penmanship, the letters were written in cursive.
Val
My forehead furrowed in confusion. “Val?” I questioned before hiding my laugh with a cough. “That’s your name? What, did your parents hate you?”
She lifted her chin up in defiance at my insult, her eyes narrowing with a slight glare. Ah, there was the fire I was looking for. She had been hiding it before—but I wanted it.
Looking down at the paper again, she scribbled quickly and then showed me the notebook again.
No. Val is for short. My name is Valerie.
Valerie. My eyes traced each letter slowly, saying the name in my head.
“Valerie,” I whispered, our eyes meeting. Her cheeks turned a soft pink as she blushed beautifully. “Valerie.”
So fucking sweet and beautiful. Just like her.
Her lips parted as she breathed in, her tongue peeking out to run over her fuck-me lips. Heat rolled over me, bathing me with fire. She really was temptress. A beautiful nun—without her voice, but a temptress still.
“Don’t you mean Valeria?” I asked, breaking the moment. That would have been the correct Russian pronunciation. Except…if she wasn’t Russian. She appeared to understand English fluently. Maybe she was American.
I saw her scowl, and it snapped me out of my thoughts. She looked very unhappy at the name Valeria, almost as if she detested it. She wrinkled her nose at me, and I chuckled. Well, damn, the mute nun was a spitfire.
No. My name is Valerie. V.A.L.E.R.I.E.
Pressing my lips together, I tried to hold my laugh in. But it was almost impossible.
She stared at me for a second before blinking away. Valerie took the notebook back before writing again. Bending forward, I peered down on the paper.
What is your na—
She didn’t even finish her question, I placed my hand over hers, and I was already speaking. She looked up in surprise.
“Viktor,” I answered quickly, without thinking.
When I heard a harsh intake of breath behind me, I realized my mistake. Fuck! Double fuck.
But just as quickly as I realized my mistake, when the corner of her lips turned up in a small, barely there smile, I forgot about Igor yet again.
She mouthed my name, and my heart stuttered.
Viktor
Her eyes went from mine to our hands. I followed her gaze, staring at my hand over hers. She didn’t move or try to escape my touch. She sat still, waiting…
My thumb caressed the back of her hand, her skin so soft, almost silky. From the corner of my eyes, I watched her. Her reaction was another boost to my ego.
She appeared transfixed, watching every swipe of my thumb intensely. I leaned closer, my lips almost touching the corner of her ear. Her eyes fluttered closed, and her other hand went to her stomach, her fingers twisting around the fabric of her dress.
