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My fingers close around his wrist before he can step away. “Will you join me?”

He hesitates, clearly about to decline. I tighten my hold on him slightly. “Please.”

We step under the warm spray together after stripping, the steam quickly filling the bathroom and wrapping around us like a soft cloud.

Andrei reaches for my shampoo. His fingers slide gently into my hair, working the lather through the strands, slow and careful, like I’m something fragile he’s afraid to break. I close my eyes, letting the warmth and the steady rhythm of his hands soothe me.

He rinses my hair, then reaches for the soap. His hands travel over my shoulders, my arms, my back, washing me thoroughly, tenderly.

There’s nothing sexual in his touch. But the more he touches me, the more aware of him I become, of the heat of his body so close to mine.

Maybe it’s the adrenaline still pulsing through my veins after everything that happened tonight. Maybe it’s relief. Whatever it is, I want him.

We step out of the shower, water dripping from our skin. He reaches for a towel and wraps it around me, then begins to dry me off.

“Do you want something to drink?” he asks. “Tea?”

I shake my head.

“I want you,” I say softly.

He pauses, towel still in his hands, then shakes his head slightly. “You’re in shock,” he says gently.

“Then get me out of the shock.”

I step closer and curl my arms around his neck, linking my hands behind him. I pull him down toward me. “Please… make love to me.”

I press my lips to his. For a second, he doesn’t respond. He pulls back just enough to look into my eyes, searching my face.

“Are you sure?” he asks quietly.

I nod.

He lifts me into his arms and carries me to the bedroom, laying me gently on the bed and then joining me.

Andrei makes love to me with care, anchoring me back into my body, reminding me that I’m safe, that I’m home, that he’s here. Our fingers stay intertwined the whole time.

And when I come crying out his name, I breathe, “I love you.”

He looks down at me, that familiar smirk touching his lips, softened now, almost fond.

“I know,” he murmurs.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Andrei

The look on Rosie’s face right now is enough to make me want to strip off every piece of tactical gear I’m wearing and spend the rest of the night buried inside her.

But I can’t.

Those motherfuckers who came after her last night are still breathing, and I need to change that.

After she excused herself to use the bathroom at the restaurant, and ended up taking too long, I knew something was wrong. The second I stepped into that hallway and saw her purse lying abandoned on the floor, I saw red. Those bastards had been trying to kidnap her.

I wish I could have dragged their deaths out longer. Made them scream for every second they dared to put their filthy hands on my wife.

This war has dragged on far too long. Tonight it ends.