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I nestle under the warm covers as he pulls on a robe and goes downstairs to return with a tray of coffee, French toast, and sliced fruit.
“Yum,” I say, sitting up and resting my back against the headboard. “That looks delicious.”
He hands me a mug of steaming coffee before balancing the tray between us. “You need your energy for that twelve-hour shift today.”
I take the plate he hands me and leave it on my lap. “You never told me how you got hold of my schedule.”
“I did,” he says, holding my gaze as he bites into his toast. “I told you I have contacts.”
I raise a brow. “At Coney Island Hospital?”
“Everywhere.”
I consider that for a moment. “How did you make such powerful connections here in New York City?”
“Business.”
“Mm.” I give a mock-frown at his evasiveness. “Where else do you have connections?”
“Everywhere,” he says with a glint in his eyes.
I pout. “You’re making fun of me.”
His smile is mischievous. “I wouldn’t dare.”
I take a sip of the strong, well-rounded coffee and leave the mug on the nightstand. “I suppose if I ask you where you own properties, you’ll tell me everywhere too.”
He laughs. “As far as my personal residences go, I have a hacienda in Mexico, a cabin in the French Alps, a penthouse in Miami, a loft in Moscow, a flat in London, a mansion in St. Petersburg, and an island in the Maldives. I also own a couple of hundred buildings around the world, but those are just investment properties.” He puts his plate aside with a playful smile. “Does that answer your question?”
I gape at him. “How often do you visit them all?”
He stretches out next to me, bending his elbow to support his weight and resting his head in his hand. “Not nearly as often as I’d like.” Reaching out, he trails a finger over my naked shoulder. “I do happen to know you’re due some time off in the spring.”
His touch makes me shiver in a delicious way. “Obtaining confidential information is unethical.”
He traces the length of my arm. “You would’ve told me if I’d asked.”
Goosebumps break out over my skin. “Exactly.”
“Then it’s not confidential.”
“Alex,” I chide, picking up my toast. “You know what I mean.”
His expression turns serious. “Come with me to St. Petersburg in April.”
I stop with the bread midway to my mouth. “What?”
“Your mother will be home by then, her treatment finished. If you’re worried about her, I can hire a private nurse to make sure she’s well taken care of.”
“I wasn’t thinking about my mother,” I say, dropping the bread back onto the plate. “Well, not only.”
He tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear. “Then why the hesitation?”
“That trip would be huge. I mean, expensive.”
He raises a brow. “Does it look like I can’t afford it?”
“It’s not that.”
“Katerina,” he says in a stern tone. “What is mine is yours. Stop thinking about the money.” In a gentler voice, he adds, “I want to show you where I come from. It’s beautiful in St. Petersburg in April. Do you know what white nights are?”
I shake my head.
“The sun doesn’t set from April to August. Those months are eternally day. That’s why we call those evenings with a midnight sun white nights.”
“Wow,” I say, trying to picture something like that. “It sounds like magic.”
“It is,” he says softly, stroking my hair. “Let me show it to you. You’ll like it, I promise.”
My reservations about not being able to afford such a trip on my salary vanish as I take in the expectation on his face. In a way, he is my white nights, my everlasting day, my magic.
When we started out, I feared that he’d grow tired of sex with me and that we wouldn’t last, but the longer I’m with him, the more that fear diminishes. I’m starting to believe that we are magic, that what we have is something truly rare and special.
“Okay,” I whisper, giving him a soft smile.
“Good,” he says, looking as excited as a little boy with a new toy. “I’ll start making the arrangements. I have much to show you, and I want everything to be perfect.”
Taking the toast from my plate, he holds it to my lips. “Open. You haven’t eaten a thing yet, and it’s almost time for you to get ready.”
Obediently, I part my lips.
His blue eyes darken as I take a bite. Leaning in, he says as he aims for the corner of my mouth, “You’ve gotten some honey on your face.”
* * *
The uncharacteristic snowfall causes a huge traffic jam. Sitting in the back of the car, I check my watch for the fifth time. I’m going to be late.
Yuri catches my gaze in the rearview mirror. “Maybe you want to call in to let them know you’ll be late.”
“I can’t be late,” I say. “We’re already understaffed as is. My supervisor is counting on me.”
