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“The city?”
He squeezes me tighter. “My father and I had a deal. As long as I did my duty, he’d let me enforce a ban on trafficking.”
“So you gave up your own life so innocent people would be safe?”
“Don’t make me sound like a hero,” he says gruffly. “Before you, I never had a life. I never thought I’d be able to have one, either.”
I turn, smooth my hands over his shoulders, and pull him into a kiss. He makes a groaning, almost surprised noise. “Come on. Let’s have lunch.”
“You won’t run?” he teases.
I take his hand, smiling, letting go of all the dark, morbid, defeatist thoughts. “Not yet, anyway.”
“Ha, ha,” he says sarcastically, then slides his hand down my body to my hip, sinking his hand in that special way he has, grabbing more and more of me each moment like he can’t get enough.
CHAPTER 21
DIMITRI
After lunch, it’s time to return to the city and make arrangements. The pledge needs to be luxurious enough to make a statement about the Bratva but also provide security and everything else we need. Sitting in the back of the chauffeured car, I think about lunch, wondering if I was the only one who sensed the awkwardness. It was Ania, Mikhail, Mila, my Lia, and me, but maybe I imagined it. I could hardly focus on anyone except for Lia, anyway.
In the city, I do my job on autopilot, counting the seconds until I can get home and see my woman again. I’m short with the men, but that probably helps me anyway. Being in a bad mood can help with a leader’s aura from time to time.
Before heading back home, I have to make one more stop. My body stirs when I think about later, think about my woman. It’s been a stressful week, and it will probably get worse before it gets better, but this is a bright spot. I grab the package, my manhood aching, my thoughts pulsing.
The sun is setting when I finally pull up to the compound. I find my woman in the second house, lying on the couch, sleeping with a blanket tangled around her and a movie playing on the TV. My heart thuds when I stand over her, staring down at her body, curviness, and perfection.
She blinks her eyes open. “Dimitri?” she says, reminding me of when she asked if she was dreaming or if I was really there.
I kneel beside the couch, a crazy question entering my mind. What if I did it and asked her right here? Took out a ring? I lean down and press my lips against hers. She sits up with one of those ball-tingling urgent breaths.
“I’ve got a surprise for you,” I tell her. “Something for the party…”
Her eyes flit with something uncertain, but then a smile touches her face. I know what the issue is. She’s thinking about the fact I haven’t told her everything. I want to, but I have to be strong. I have to put the plan first, even if it hurts like hell.
I gesture to the bag on the coffee table where I left it.
“That’s… big,” she says, studying the large package.
“There are five dresses in there,” I tell her. “If you find one you like, we can have it adjusted to fit your perfect form perfectly.”
She glances at me sharply; my words have shocked her.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“I’m just not used to all this.”
“Get used to it,” I tell her. “Are you ready?”
She smooths her hands over the bag, raising her eyebrow at me. “Are you asking for a fashion show?”
“No, I’m demanding a fashion show.”
I rush forward, claim her hips in my favorite way, and pull her right up against me. She must be able to feel me pressing against her, but I can’t help that. It just happens whenever our bodies touch.
“Dimitri,” she murmurs. “I don’t think I can…”
“It’s my fault,” I tell her, taking a step back. “You make me so wild.”
