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He flashes me a playful smile as he catches me ogling him, my hands frozen at my ankle as I forget all about putting on my shoes. I blush profusely and focus on the task at hand as he pulls a shirt from his closet and gets dressed. Before we leave his apartment, Nicolo wraps a warm coat around my shoulders and hands me my keys and phone.
“I’ll buy you a new coat soon, but in the meantime, you can borrow mine,” he says as we walk toward the elevator.
In no time, we’re pulling up to the curb outside my building, and Nicolo puts his Maserati in park.
“Thank you, Nico,” I say, turning to meet his gaze as I use his nickname intentionally. Now that I know he likes it when I do, the sound of it on my lips sends a thrill through me.Nico.I suppress a shiver of excitement. “Thank you for everything. I…” I falter as the reality of my intended words brings a lump to my throat. “I owe you my life.”
Nicolo’s fingers graze across my cheekbone and curl behind my ear as he brushes a stray strand of hair from my face. Then he leans across the console to graze a kiss over my lips.
As I turn to open my door, Nicolo kills the motor of his car and follows suit. Taken aback, I watch in stunned silence as he makes his way around the hood of his car to help me from the low front seat.
“What are you doing?” I ask, confusion pressing my brows into a frown.
“I thought I would walk you up,” he says, humor making the corner of his lips twitch up into a smile.
My heart stutters, and I swallow hard. The thoughtful gesture both disarms and terrifies me. It’s such a simple, thoughtful act, and yet, if he walks me to my door, he might just see Clara. And as the spitting image of her father, nothing good would come of that. But my brain short circuits. I can’t think of a single logical reason why he shouldn’t walk me up if he wants to.
Struck dumb, I follow Nicolo helplessly as he tucks my hand into the crook of his arm and walks me toward the front door of my building. Since the elevator’s been broken in my aunt’s apartment since before I moved in with her, we have to take the stairs. But Nicolo doesn’t seem to mind.
He jokes lightly about finally understanding why I have such killer legs as we finish the final flight of steps and make it to the third-floor hallway. A breathy laugh escapes me in response, but I’m too distracted by the nausea of what’s about to happen that I don’t fully register his words. My ears roar with the sound of my pulse. And then we’re standing in front of my apartment door.
Nicolo turns to face me, his eyes a brilliant shade of green as he looks deep into my soul, and then he leans in to press a scintillating kiss to my lips. Warmth floods me, and I respond with ardor, melting into his embrace.
“I’ll see you soon?” Nicolo says when we finally break apart.
“Yes.”
A smile tugs at my lips as he reaches up to pinch my chin between his thumb and forefinger, and he brushes my lips gently with his. And then he turns to head back down the stairs alone. Heady relief makes me dizzy, and I lean against the door to our apartment for support as I realize my secret’s safe. After Nicolo is safely out of sight, I turn and slip the key into the lock.
“There she is!” Aunt Patritsiya says as I walk through the door, her familiar Russian accent wrapping around me like a warm hug.
“Mama!” Clara exclaims, jumping down from her stool on the countertop to greet me.
“Careful, Clara. Your hands are all covered in flour! You don’t want to ruin your mother’s beautiful dress.”
But I don’t care. Letting Nicolo’s coat fall from around my shoulders, I scoop up my baby girl in my arms and hold her close, breathing in the fruity scent of her shampoo as I soak up the feeling of her tiny body clinging to mine.
“I missed you,” I say fiercely, fighting to contain my tears.
“Where were you?” she asks, leaning back so she can take in my fancy dress.
“Nowhere nearly as much fun as when I’m here with you. Sorry, I’m late. Let me go change, and I’ll be right back out to help with breakfast.”
I set Clara on her feet, and she scampers back into the kitchen to help her auntie. Stooping, I collect Nicolo’s coat in my arms and head toward my bedroom. It takes me no time at all to shed my beautiful dress, and I toss it aside before pulling on a comfortable pair of joggers and a sweatshirt.
Then I head back into the communal area to join my family in making pancakes. My heart overflows with happiness to be spending time with my little girl, and I can’t keep my eyes off of her today. It’s astounding just how much she looks like her father.
I can see it now more than ever, and for the first time, that knowledge fills me with joy rather than pain or sadness. I have loved everything and every moment about raising my little girl, but in truth, her dark curls and hazel eyes, her mischievous smile, along with a thousand little details in her personality, remind me of Nicolo. For the past four years, she has been a constant reminder, bringing him to the forefront of my mind. And once again, my heart twinges as her cheeky response to my question reminds me of her dad.
For the first time, I’m less confident in my decision to keep Clara a secret from Nicolo. Until now, I’ve been sure that it was the right thing to do. I did it to protect my daughter from a man I was sure could only bring her pain. But after nearly losing my life last night, I don’t know what to think. I’m still burdened by the knowledge that if something were ever to happen to me, Nicolo would never know he has a daughter. Clara would never find out who her father was. That fact causes me far more pain than I ever realized it could.
And now that I’m falling for Nicolo, I wonder if this might not turn into a more long-term arrangement than I had anticipated. While I can’t be sure of how long he might want to be with me, I suddenly find myself drawn to this new connection between us. I need to decide what I’m doing with my life. If I want to try and make things work with Nicolo, I can’t keep hiding Clara from him. Our daughter will need his protection. After last night, that much is glaringly obvious. I can’t continue to lie to him if our connection has any hope of becoming something more. But the thought of telling Nicolo that I’ve been hiding something so monumental from him for so long utterly terrifies me.
35
NICOLO
The simplicity of the shimmering rose gold dress Anya’s picked for our date tonight somehow makes her look even more stunning, the color drawing out the natural blush of her creamy cheeks. The long sleeves and V-neck transition down to a form-fitting waistline, and I can appreciate the deep slit that runs from the bottom of the flowing, knee-length skirt all the way up her leg to the top of her thigh. It’s subtly sexy, and I love watching her descend the final flight of steps from her third-floor apartment, as it gives me a full understanding of just how much leg that slit has to offer.
