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Sucking in a breath, I wonder if this is the end of the beginning for us. We haven’t even had a week of normal. A week of anything other than pure chaos. Maybe this is normal though? Maybe this is the way it’s all supposed to be. I don’t know, but I don’t think that this is what life is supposed to be like.
Pushing myself up to sit, I throw my legs over the side of the bed and slowly stand up straight. I’m still wearing Ruslan’s shirt, so I don’t bother finding anything else to put on. I go in search of him, of the man that is no doubt feeling so guilty he can’t contain himself.
It doesn’t take me long to find him. He’s standing at the coffee maker, head bent as it percolates. Walking up behind him, I try to be as quiet as possible. Wrapping my arms around his bare waist, I touch my lips to the center of his back before I turn my head and rest my cheek against his warm skin.
“I know you did not mean to do what you did. I’m not upset, I’m not angry, but please do not shut me out for this. Don’t leave me.”
He spins around, tilting his head down, his eyes finding mine immediately. His jaw is clenched, his gaze is focused and narrowed, and his nostrils are flared.
“Why would you want me?” he asks.
“Because I love you, and it was an accident.”
He shakes his head once, dipping his chin, he touches his mouth to mine. It’s a hard, punishing kiss. It’s intense and sexy. It’s almost final, but I refuse. Lifting my hands, I wrap them around his neck, holding him to me.
Ruslan breaks the kiss, but I don’t let him pull away from me. His forehead rests against mine and he lets out a heavy sigh.
“I hurt you. Badly. I could have killed you, I would have.”
“Yes, you could have, but you didn’t, and it wasn’t on purpose. None of this was done purposefully. I cannot lose you, not after I’ve just found you, Ruslan.”
He doesn’t say anything right away, his eyes focus on mine, his face still set hard. He is very much loathing himself right now and I have to admit that if the tables were turned, I would feel the exact same way.
Then something happens. There is a moment of silence, but the look in his eyes, it feels like it’s more, like maybe a decision of some kind has been made. I hold him a little tighter, moving a little closer to him. I cannot lose him. I refuse. Not like this, not to his own mind or his own fears.
I open my mouth to tell him just that, when his lips suddenly tip up into a small smile and his eyes soften.
“Okay,luchik. I won’t go anywhere.”
He says it in a way where I feel as if he’s just saying it to pacify me. He’ll probably do whatever he wants anyway, but I can hope that he’ll stay with me. Stay at my side.
“You’ll sleep beside me, and just be mine?” I ask.
He hums but doesn’t answer. My assumption is confirmed, and I hate it. Immediately. I can’t make him promise that though. Not yet, at least. But I will. He won’t have to promise me anything, he’ll just do it. He’ll sleep beside me, soundly, and he will be okay.
At least I hope that he will… eventually.
“I’m already yours,” he murmurs.
His lips touch mine in a brush of a kiss, my hand still grips the back of his neck and I try to keep him there, but it doesn’t work. He lifts his head, his gaze searching mine before he lets out a sigh and lifts his hand between us, his fingers gently gliding up and down my throat.
“I damaged you, hurt you. I’m no better than Azar.”
“Stop,” I rasp. “Just stop.”
His eyes find mine and he tilts his head to the side. My fingers flex against the back of his neck again and I shake my head once. “Just stop,” I whisper. “You are nothing like him, absolutely nothing.”
‘But you don’t know that. The Bratva is like his organization. Vadim even killed a woman yesterday. I’ve seen the bruises on the wives’ faces over the years and know they come from their husbands. How are we any better?”
Releasing my grip on his neck, I take a step backward from him, then another until I no longer have to strain to look into his eyes.
“First of all, that woman was coming after me and Zinaida. That was protection, not murder for fun. Second, you are not those men, and I am not those women. What we have here, in this house, is between us and nobody else. Third, you are not Azar, because you are a million times better than him, better than he could ever have been.”
“I’m going to need a little time to cope with all of this.”
Nodding my head, I slide my tongue along my bottom lip. “Time I can give you, but not too much,” I say.
“Not too much,” he murmurs.
