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He’s silent for a few seconds.
“My father was a cold, miserable bastard. He could find fault with someone’s breathing. And no one took the brunt of his abuse more than my mother. Anything that went wrong, he’d find some way to blame her. The party she threw distracted his men. If she was off shopping, she was ignoring her responsibilities. If she spent time with me and my brothers, it was coddling.
“I swore to myself my marriage would never be like that. But I never thought I’d marry for love. Even if I was never going to bePakhan, I knew my father would leverage my marriage to advance his interests.”
Nick’s hand moves down my cheek, cupping my jaw and tilting my face so I couldn’t look away even if I wanted to.
“And then I ended up at a frat party in Philadelphia. I was standing by the fridge when I saw a girl walk into the room. It felt like I’d been waiting my whole life just to look at her.”
I inhale but say nothing.
“I know I left, Lyla. I left because I didn’t think I had another choice. I left because I was trying to protect you. If I had to do it all over again, I’m not sure I would do anything differently. Ever since you’ve been back in my life, I’ve still tried to protect you. I’m not what’s best for you. I never will be. But don’t you dare think you’re not all I want. Don’t you dare think it’s because I don’t want you or because I don’t want you to stay. Don’t youdarethink I don’t love you. I love you more than I thought I was capable of loving someone.”
Something inside of me releases like a valve when he says those last two sentences. Something sweet and satisfying and heady floods my body, like a powerful drug.
“Really?”
Nick smiles. “Really.”
He takes a step closer, caging me against the wall of the restaurant. I’m no longer cold, cocooned by his body heat. He smells like smoke and spicy cologne.
Like sin and temptation.
He startles me by speaking. “I really want to kiss you.”
The gravel in his voice forms goose bumps on my skin. But that’s the only way I react. I’m too stunned by the admission. It’s at total odds with his usual assuredness.
“So, kiss me.”
Nick smiles. “I’m going to.”
But some of the amusement trickles from his expression as he looks at me, his handsome face turning severe with emotion.
“What?”
“I’m worried you’ll change your mind.” He brushes some hair away from my face, his touch lingering and leaving a trail of heat in its wake. “I’m worried it’s going to be too much and—”
I kiss him. His mouth is warm, the heat almost too much after the numbness of the cold. I expect him to taste like ash, but his lips have an oaky, malty flavor. He must have sipped some scotch while waiting for me to return.
My back rubs against the rough exterior of the building, my sweater not much of a buffer. But I’m aware of nothing beyond the sensual glide of his tongue against mine. The warm grasp on his palm on my hip as he pulls me flush against his body. His other hand weaves into my hair, tugging gently to angle my mouth exactly where he wants it.
Everything fades away—the garbage bins, the starry sky, the cold air.
Nick pulls away first, then leans back in for a softer, more chaste kiss. “What about marriage?”
“Is this your idea of a proposal?”
He half grins. “No. But it will be expected, especially since we already have a child. The Bratva can be…old-fashioned. Not following tradition is seen as disrespectful, not progressive. And having my last name is the best form of protection I can give you.”
I nod. “Marriage sounds good.”
“More kids?”
“Yes,” I whisper.
His smile morphs into a full one before he grabs my hand and starts tugging me along, just not in the direction I’m expecting. I thought we’d head back into the restaurant, but he’s pulling me toward the street.
“Where are we going?”
