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I feel as though I’m melting into the pavement as he continues to smile at me. Maybe he’s just trying to keep me around after traumatizing me, but I doubt that’s his only intention. He doesn’t say things he doesn’t mean. I’ve learned that about him.
“Come,” he says, waving at me to follow him. “I’ll show you the house.”
32
Oakley
The inside of Savva’s house is even more impressive than the outside. Black and gold accents make the brick look rich and welcoming, and long Persian rugs line the hallway, creating an aged appearance without feeling worn out. I long to stretch out across the floor like a cat, catching the light summer rays that slant through the skylight in the main hallway.
“This is stunning,” I say, spinning around like a girl who just discovered a garden full of fairies. “So amazing.”
“I’m glad you like it. You’ll be living here from now on. The bar is too dangerous,” Savva replies, his voice calm and deep like a well of cold, still water.
I accept the offer disguised as a demand without hesitation. To some, it may look like I’m rushing into this, but everything about it feels so right. It was like I was meant to be living here with Savva all along.
I suppose fate always had greater plans for me than an office job in Georgia.
“The bedroom is this way, upstairs,” Savva says, motioning to the staircase.
I follow him up, my anticipation climbing as we approach the master bedroom. I feel like I’ve gained access to some forbidden, sacred place, even more valuable than the secret room we discovered in Angus’s office.
When Savva opens the door, I rush past him and dive into his bed, unable to stop myself from bathing in the sheets that he sleeps in every night. The smell of his body, the richness of his skin, and the deep musk of his masculinity fill my nose, and I let out a long, satisfied sigh. He couldn’t pull me out of this bed for anything right now. It feels so good.
“I thought you said you weren’t going to sleep for a week,” he says, laughter appearing in the cracks of his words.
“I changed my mind,” I reply, sinking deeper into his bed and closing my eyes. “This is heaven.”
“Well, we still have to crack that safe open, unless you want to do it tomorrow.”
“I’m in no hurry,” I say, thinking how glorious it would be to fall asleep right here, right now. I’ve already bathed, and my body is exhausted from the events of today.
I feel the weight of Savva’s body beside me, acting like a gravitational force and causing me to slide toward him on his silk sheets. He takes me in his arms, holding me gently for fear of agitating my wounds.
But I barely feel the cuts that Stone put across my chest. The love that radiates from Savva overpowers the pain, and I finally know that I can trust him with our child. I will tell him tomorrow about the baby, but for now, we will sleep.
* * *
We both wakeup early the next day without need for an alarm, blinking in the pale sunlight that streams through the window. I roll over, wincing at the soreness that’s prevailed through my body overnight. It’s not just the cuts, but also my muscles that ache with the memories of yesterday.
Savva springs off the bed, ready to take on the day, while I sit up slowly, unable to do much of anything until I’ve been awake for at least an hour. I can’t even drink coffee anymore, now that I’m pregnant. I guess tea will do.
“How are you feeling?” Savva asks, looking me over as though I just crawled out of a smoldering wreckage.
I laugh. “I’m fine, just really sore.”
“I can give you some pain medication. I keep oxycodone here for emergencies.”
“Oh no, nothing like that,” I reply, quick to dismiss him. “That’s a bit too strong for me. Maybe just an ibuprofen.”
He nods, turning to the bathroom. “If you need anything else, just let me know. We’ll probably want to swap those bandages after breakfast.”
“Sure,” I reply, looking around the room and really taking it all in for the first time. I was too eager to sleep when I arrived, but now that I feel rested enough, I’d like to have a look around. You can tell a lot about a person by their home.
While Savva is in the bathroom, I’m examining every corner of his bedroom, taking note of how tidy everything is. Surely, a man as busy as he is doesn’t have time to clean. Does he have a maid?
A prickle of jealousy irritates the back of my neck, and I rub it away. I can’t get crazy just because I’m having his baby. Savva has shown no signs that he would ever act unfaithfully. For a criminal, he’s about as rigid and serious about his values as they come.
There are many books on his shelf, and all of them look as though they’ve been read at least once over. That’s another good sign. He’s intelligent and values the power of his mind, something I’ve always found attractive in a man. The only issue that usually comes with a great mind is a lacking personality and appearance, but Savva has all his bases covered.
