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His shoulders sagged with relief. “You came back.”
“I did I…” She trailed off with a scowl. “How did you get in here?”
“I broke in, I’m sorry.”
She absorbed this information with a guarded look. “Why are you kneeling in th
e middle of my floor?”
He stood, crossing the room to silence her with his lips on hers. After a moment she relaxed into the kiss, sending a wave of relief coursing through his chest.
She tasted better than ever. Her lips parted and her tongue stroked against his as he tossed her bags to the floor and slammed the door behind her. He slanted his mouth against hers, doing his best to show her how relieved he was to have this chance as he pulled her down to the carpet and tore at the buttons on her coat.
“Wait!” She pulled away, but continued to undo her buttons, an action that encouraged him.
“I was an asshole, forgive me,” he begged, more than willing to admit he had been wrong. He would confess to all of his sins and kiss her toes in supplication. He would lie down and take fifty lashes if that was what it took for her to give him another chance.
“Why? Because you were scared?” She slipped her coat from her shoulders, sitting back on her heels as she slowly worked at the buttons on her pale green shirt. It was the same shirt she’d been wearing the first time he had been lucky enough to get a taste of her passion and it made him even more eager to see the beautiful woman beneath it.
“I was scared,” he confessed. “I thought I was scared of you, of the things you had done in your past but—”
“But you were the one who said the past didn’t matter, Serge!” She sucked in a ragged breath as she began to work her buttons in the opposite direction, hastily concealing her lacy white bra. “You’re the one who convinced me I wasn’t that person anymore. Now you tell me that you weren’t buying your own line of bullshit?”
“Wait!” He pulled her to him, stilling her hands with his.
“Why are you even here? Were you afraid I was going to send a hit man after you, too?” Tears welled in her eyes.
Serge had never seen Kat cry, and he hated himself for hurting her.
“No, of course not. I realized the truth. I realized that I was afraid that you would keep me guessing and I’d never be sure our lives were proceeding according to plan.” He pleaded with her, tightening his grip on her wrists, refusing to let her go until she understood what he was trying to say. “But I was a fool and a coward. Can you forgive me?”
“A predictable woman wouldn’t have made you feel the way I made you feel.” Her tone was strong, but her eyes still held a trace of doubt.
It was his fault that there was any reason for doubt. He was a miserable failure at making-up. He had to find a way to let her know how much she meant to him before it was too late.
“I love you, Katarina. I love your strength and your impulsiveness and your passion and I am worthless without you.” His voice was tight, his accent coloring each word so thickly he prayed she could understand him. “I will do anything it takes, anything you want. Just give me another chance at your heart.”
“You are so stupid.” She sniffed and the tears in her eyes rolled down her face.
Thankfully, with the tears, there also came a small smile.
“You don’t need another chance at it,” she continued. “I never took it back. I love you, too, and I forgive you for being a dimwit.”
“I was a dimwit.” He returned her smile, releasing her hands to wrap his arms around her.
“But you’d better not do it again.”
“Never. I promise, no more dimwit or asshole or any of those things.” He smoothed his hands up and down—from her shoulders to her perfect little ass— knowing he would never get enough of touching her.
“Or I’ll leave you for real next time.” She tore at his shirt, sending black buttons flying.
“Understood.” He stretched himself out on top of her, kneeing her thighs apart and pressing his erection between her legs, showing her how crazy she’d made him already.
“All right then.” She nibbled his lip and tugged at his belt. “I assume this means you’re going to be my husband.”
“And I assume you’ll be the beautiful mother of my children.” He pulled her skirt up and traced the place where her stockings gave way to bare thigh, his hand trembling as he realized she was wearing the garter belt from that first day in his limo, too.
“Yes.” She closed her eyes and arched into his touch. “As long as you never take any of them near a strip club.”
