“He’s their grandfather.”
“He’s a man with plans.”
“And you’re what?”
That stills him for one beat.
“A man with very little patience left.”
I should back away. Instead, I take a step toward him.
The air between us changes at once. All the years between Moscow and now don’t disappear exactly, but they narrow. The room feels smaller.
“That girl isn’t yours to punish me with,” I blurt out.
Roman’s brows draw together. “What girl?”
“Vika.”
Real understanding flashes across his face, followed by something darker. “You think I care about Vika?”
“I think you let her all over you in front of me.”
His mouth almost curves, but there is no humor in it. “You noticed.”
The insult of that nearly makes me slap him.
He must see it in my face, because he crosses the distance between us before I can say anything else. One second he’s standing three feet away. The next, his hand is around my waist and my back hits the edge of the marble console.
The breath leaves me in a rush.
“Roman.”
“Say it again.”
My hands are already on his shoulders. I do not remember lifting them there. “This is a terrible idea,” I whisper.
“Yes.”
Then he kisses me.
Hard.
Not gently, not carefully, not like a man discovering whether I still taste the same. Like a man who has already thought about this too much and resents me for making him want it anyway.
I kiss him back just as furiously.
The first brush of his mouth against mine is enough to send heat through my whole body. The second opens something. His tongue slides into my mouth, and all the shame and anger and jealousy I’ve been carrying since I saw him on the dance floor burn into something simpler and much more dangerous.
His hand tightens at my waist. My fingers go into his hair before I can stop them. He makes a rough sound under his breath that hits me low and hard.
I have missed him.
That’s the worst truth of all.
His mouth leaves mine only long enough to drag down the line of my jaw. I tilt my head back against the mirror without meaning to, giving him my throat. He kisses the side of it once, then again, slower, and I shiver so hard it almost embarrasses me.
Almost.
