“Pav.”
His eyes found her in the doorway.
She closed the door behind her.
The click of the latch was quiet and final. A decision made.
She crossed the room and sat beside him on the bed. The mattress dipped under her weight, and the distance between them was inches. Neither of them moved to close it because the closing would mean something that couldn’t be taken back.
His hand found hers in the quiet as if it already knew where to go.
There was no space left for anything else.
34
His thumb moved gentlyacross her knuckles.
Precise and deliberate. The same gesture from the crawl space, when his hand had said everything his mouth couldn’t.
The light in the room was dim, snow drifting and obscuring the window. The world reduced to this room. This bed. The heat between them.
Katya’s words sat heavy in her chest.
Alexei. The watch. His choice.
She knew things about him now that he hadn’t given her. Things that changed the shape of every moment they’d shared—why he stepped back, never letting anything get close enough to matter.
She understood it all.
His hand lifted as he brushed a strand of hair back from her face, his fingers grazing her temple, her ear—lingering just long enough to pull a breath from her she didn’t mean to give.
His palm settled on her neck. Warm and firm and right over her pulse. He leaned in and kissed her there.
Heat flared low and sharp as she inhaled, her body reacting before she could think her way through it.
“You’re sure?” He pulled back an inch, his breath skimming her skin.
“Sure.”
Something shifted in him at that. He moved carefully, making room for his injured shoulder, then eased behind her on the bed, his chest coming to her back, solid and warm—the full length of him aligning with her in a way that felt familiar and completely different all at once.
His mouth found her again—lower this time as he lifted her hair, at the nape of her neck.
Her breath caught.
He ran his hands down her arms, and the line of her shoulders dropped. The tension she’d been carrying in the muscles between her shoulder blades dissolved under the warmth of his touch.
Her body trusted him. The argument was over.
He found the buttons at the back of the dress. A soft pop and the fabric loosened. Cool air slipped across her spine, and she drew in a breath, the contrast sharp against the heat of his hands.
He stilled. Not long. Just enough to feel it. His fingers rested against her skin where the dress had parted, above the plain cotton band of the borrowed bra.
She knew exactly what this changed.
What it cost him to want this.
His breath left him slow against her shoulder.
