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I never noticed that he has a little bit of yellow ringing the iris of his blue eyes. Even all bruised and dirty… there’s no denying how handsome he is. His dark hair is unkempt and falls around his face in a way that is alluring. He shouldn’t be - but he is.
I shouldn’t be feeling like this. I shouldn’t have these sorts of reactions to anyone other than my husband… but I can’t stop them either.
My hands rest on the chain wrapped around me, holding. He’s not putting any pressure on me, and I don’t struggle against it.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” Alek sneers, voice full of derision. Clearly Lilian is a very sore spot, even all these years after her death.
For a moment. Just the span of a heartbeat, I’m jealous of a dead woman. That a man could love her so fiercely after so much time. Just the memory of her, to protect it so devoutly.
Then he turns me loose.
The absence of his body heat ignites a moan of protest that instantly humiliates me.
He turns his back to me, and I know that the conversation is over.
“Don’t come down here again, Volkovich.”
He says my surname with enough hate that I know that if I do, I might not leave.
