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“Is everything all right?” she asks as we enter the foyer.
“Yes,” I say, smiling for her benefit. I hate myself for lying to my mom. “Everything is perfect.”
Surprisingly, I sleep well and wake up rested the following morning. I thought the anxiety would keep me tossing and turning all night.
Other than opening my eyes, I don’t move. Alex is lying on his back, still asleep. I use the opportunity to study him. His face doesn’t carry the tenseness that strains his features during the day. For once, he looks relaxed. Stubble darkens his jaw. His eyelashes are long for a man, softening the straight, harsh lines of his strong bone structure. He looks vulnerable in his sleep. The way my heart squeezes reminds me just how susceptible I am to him.
Trying to be quiet, I slip out of the bed, but the minute I stand up, Alex opens his eyes. The unguarded smile he gives me is my undoing. His blue eyes are soft with sleep yet piercing as he evaluates me. A feeling like a flapping of wings stirs in my chest.
“Sleep well?” he asks in a bed-sexy voice.
“Yes, actually.” I glance at him from under my lashes as I dig through my bag for clothes. “You?”
He shifts up and rests his head on the headboard to watch me. “Like a baby.” His lips quirk. “Like always when I sleep next to you.”
My gaze is drawn to the sexy curve of those lips. My reply is meant as a clever comeback, but my voice sounds embarrassingly breathy. “With the emphasis on sleep. I’m surprised you didn’t jump on me when we went to bed.”
That quirk stretches into a lazy smile. “You sound disappointed.”
Rolling my eyes, I head for the bathroom.
“Katyusha.”
I stop in my tracks.
His voice is apologetic. “I wish we could stay longer, but we have to leave today.”
I didn’t expect otherwise, but the news is nevertheless disappointing. “When?”
“After breakfast.”
I nod. “I’ll be ready.”
When I’ve finished getting dressed in the bathroom, I step back into the room. Alex is on the phone, speaking to someone in Russian. He’s still in his pajama bottoms, pacing the floor. I can’t help but stare at the broad, well-defined expanse of his chest and the flat ridges of his stomach.
He places a hand over the microphone of his phone. “You go ahead, my love. I’ll follow later.”
Igor is waiting outside our door to escort me downstairs. I find my mom on the terrace having breakfast.
“There you are,” she says when she notices me. “Where’s that sweet man of yours?”
“On the phone. He’ll be down shortly.”
“He sounds like a workaholic.” She scoots to the side. “I hope you don’t mind that I started breakfast without you, but I thought you might sleep in.”
Taking the chair next to her, I say, “Alex doesn’t want to get home too late. I’m afraid we have to leave after breakfast.”
“He’s very conscientious.”
If only she knew.
I’m half done with my breakfast when Alex arrives. The minute he walks through the doors, everyone looks. He has that effect on people. It’s not just his imposing height or potently masculine features. It’s the self-assured way he carries himself.
He offers us a smile and makes his way over. Despite the friendly gesture, the tension is back on his face. The square line of his jaw is more pronounced from the way he always clenches it a little, and his eyes are tight with awareness. He seems permanently vigilant, forever on his guard.
“Good morning, Laura.” He takes in my mother. “You look beautiful. I really like that new hairstyle on you.”
She pats her hair. “Why, thank you. What a charming man you are. Have a seat.”
When he puts a hand on my shoulder, my body takes notice. Awareness tingles in my nerve endings and travels down my arm as goosebumps run over my skin under my sweater.
“If you don’t mind, I’ll grab a quick breakfast in the lounge,” he says. “I have business to take care of. Besides, I robbed you of Katerina yesterday. You deserve to have her all to yourself this morning.”
He gives my shoulder a squeeze before walking off.
“Oh, my,” Mom gushes. “That man is perfection. Could he be any more wonderful?”
Great. Now she’s in love with the idea of Alex and me. I bite my lip. What if things don’t work out? She’ll be so disappointed, and I can never tell her the truth.
“What’s with the long face?” she asks, taking my hand.
I shake myself out of it. “I’ll miss you.”
“I’ll be home before you know it.”
I blow out a shaky breath, not telling her there’s a good chance I may still be in Russia at that time. “Just enjoy the time you have left here. You deserve it.”
“I have to admit, this feels more like a vacation than a treatment. I’m having so much fun with the other patients, and then, of course, there’s William.”
