He walked toward me and stood beside me for a moment before lowering himself onto the sand. He sat close, knees bent, close enough that his body brushed mine.
“So?”
I turned to look at him. “I came to watch the sunset?”
“You have been here for hours.”
“How did you know that?” I asked, and he just remained quiet. “Okay, I was worried.”
“Worried?” he asked.
“Yes. I called Caitlin earlier, and I think she was fighting with Ivan. When I told Akim about it, he drove off without a word.” I paused. “Can you get me his number? I just want to know if she’s okay because her phone is off.”
Dmitri was quiet for a beat. “Akim will handle it.”
“How are you so certain? Dmitri, please, she’s my friend and…”
He hooked his arm around my waist and lifted me before I finished the sentence, pulling me onto him. His legs straightened beneath me until I was straddling his lap with my hands landing on his shoulders. “What are you doing? I’m in the middle of being worried here.”
“Akim will handle it.” He sounded so sure about it.
“Can you just call him to be sure?”
He exhaled and pulled his phone out of his pocket. I watched him tap the screen, and it lit up with Akim’s name on it. He handed me the phone, and I took it so fast. It was going through.
Dmitri pulled me closer, and I pressed a hand to his chest, maintaining the distance.
Akim answered. “Boss.” He said.
“Hi, Akim. It’s Inna. I wanted to know about Caitlin. Is she okay? Did you get her?”
He hesitated before answering. “Yes. She is with me.”
My shoulders relaxed. That was a relief. “Thank you.” I hung up and gave Dmitri the phone. “See, it wasn’t that hard.”
“Why were you with Akim, anyway? Did you go to my office?”
“He came here to bring documents for me to sign. You bought a hotel and put it in my name.”
“Hm. He did.”
I sighed. “Why? Do I own it? Is it because my father is there?”
His hand moved slowly around the curve of my hip, and I registered it. “You’re my wife,” he said. “You should own several properties.”
I laughed despite myself. “About that, wasn’t I supposed to bejust a fake—” The rest of the sentence evaporated when his hand curved around my neck and drew me in. His mouth found mine, and he moved his lips slowly at first before he deepened the kiss.
My hands moved over his shoulders and drew him in. He responded to it, his mouth moving against mine with focused intensity and urgency. I was starving, and I knew it. My body broadcasted that information without shame. Somewhere beneath the hunger was exactly the direction I had been trying to talk myself out of.
He broke the kiss, and his mouth moved to my neck, tracing down with the same energy. His hand caught the hem of my dress, drawing it upward, but I reached down and stopped him.
“We should talk first.” I tried to catch my breath. “Otherwise, I’ll start thinking things I’m not supposed to think.” I moved off his lap, not because I didn’t want him, but because wanting him was precisely the problem.
He moved. One moment I was above him and the next he was above me, his hand sliding back under my dress.
“Dmitri.” His lips returned to mine, deeper this time, but I pulled back enough to speak. He waited, his lips resting against mine. “Can we just talk? An actual conversation.”
“I’m listening,” he said, the words brushing directly across my lower lip.
