Page 53 of Secret Heir

Her eyes are locked on mine and they’re dark and vulnerable.

“I’ve got you,” I tell her, my voice rougher than I intend. “Let go. I’ve got you, moya.”

Mine. Another endearment from before.

She comes again with a broken sob, tears sliding down her temples, and this time I follow her. I bury myself as deep as I can go and let the orgasm tear through me, her name on my lips. I’m collapsed on top of her, both of us struggling to breathe. Usually by now she’d be pushing me away and creating distance.

But tonight she doesn’t move. Her arms come around me, holding me close, and I can feel her trembling.

“Aria?” I lift my head to look at her.

She’s actually crying now as she clings to me.

“Hey.” I pull out carefully and roll to my side, bringing her with me. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” But she’s holding onto me like I’m the only thing keeping her from falling apart. “Everything. I don’t know.”

I wrap my arms around her small frame and let her cry against my chest. Whatever happened tonight terrified her and she’s seeking comfort through sex and this desperate physical connection we can’t seem to break.

“Talk to me,” I murmur as I gently remove her ponytail holder and run my fingers through her silken hair. “Please, Aria. Whatever it is, just talk to me.”

“I can’t.” Her voice is muffled against my skin. “If I tell you—if you know⁠—”

“Then what?”

She doesn’t answer. She holds on tighter, her whole body shaking. I run my fingers through her hair still and down her back, trying to soothe her. What could have scared her this much?

“Maksim.” Her voice is so small I almost miss it. “Can we just…can we stay like this? For a little while?”

She wants to cuddle? My mouth dries. Something is seriously bothering her. “As long as you want.” I pull the blanket over us both. “I’m not going anywhere.”

She makes a sound that’s both a sob and laugh and presses closer, wrapping her arms around me tightly.

I hold her as she clings to me, concerned. Something has scared the shit out of her, especially once she saw Alexander. And I’m going to find out what.

But not tonight. Tonight I’m just going to hold the mother of my child and pretend that this desperate clinging means something. That we’re more than just two people destroying each other in the dark.

Even though we both know it’s not.

7

ARIA

I see him again three days later.

I’m in the library, which has become my refuge. It’s the one place in this house where I can pretend to have some semblance of control. The door opens and I look up expecting Maksim or one of the staff.

It’s Alexander Morozov.

My entire body goes cold. The book in my hands might as well weigh a thousand pounds. I can’t move or do anything except stare at the man I saw standing over a dead body eight years ago.

The man I heard plotting to kill Nikolai Sokolov.

“Apologies,” he says pleasantly. “I didn’t realize anyone was in here. Maksim mentioned a first edition Tolstoy he thought I might enjoy.”

He’s lying. I can see it in the way his cold blue eyes assess me and in the slight curve of his lips that isn’t quite a smile.

“I was just leaving.” I stand too quickly, and the book tumbles from my lap to the floor.