He lifted her foot and slipped the first shoe free, the reality of what he was doing—what he was committing to in this moment and all that came after—weighting him in a strangely gratifying way. He was actually doing this. Giving himself to one woman, and with it, opening himself up to the worst kind of disappointment if he failed to win her.
If she found his past and all the sins that went with it untenable.
“Roman?” So much uncertainty in her voice. Confusion woven with the barest hint of hope. “What are you doing?”
Keeping his attention on his task, he set her second shoe on the floor and cradled her tiny feet in his hands. Her toes were painted a whimsical pink and her skin pale against his own. So delicate. Almost dainty when compared to the indomitable spirit she portrayed to the rest of the world.
He skimmed his fingertips over her ankles and the tops of her feet. “Divesting you of your armor, malen’kaya koroleva.”
“My what?” It wasn’t an argumentative question. More one that reflected an inability to comprehend anything beyond his touch.
He understood the sentiment. Would much prefer to peel each article of clothing from her body and absorb the treasure underneath without anything to detract from his attention. He carefully placed her feet back on the floor, stood and reached for the buttons on her vest.
She stilled his hands with her own. “I think we need to talk.”
He wanted to keep going. To crush her mouth against his and kiss her until she was pliant in his arms and eager for more.
But how could he? Her mind was the problem. Years of doubt and distrust that had nothing to do with him or his family preventing the truth from finding its way to her heart.
And yet, words seemed insufficient to convey what he needed to share. All that he wanted to give her and show her. “You know what’s happening. Your mind might fight it, but the rest of you knows.”
She shook her head, but her hand tightened on his. “Us doing this...it’s a bad idea. I’m living with you. Working for you. What happens when we find my family and everything’s over?”
There it was. The fear. Trembling on her lips. Quivering in her grip.
“Ah, vozlyublennaya. We will be many things together.” He palmed the back of her head and splayed his hand low on her back. “But we will never be over.”
He kissed her. Took his fill of her taste. Of the soft press of her body against his and her sweet moans. Poured his conviction into every touch and savored the irrefutable acceptance her body offered in response. He nipped her lower lip and fought back the possessive snarl rolling up the back of his throat. “What you feel...what this is...will not go away.” He grazed his teeth along her jawline. Sampled the skin along the column of her neck.
Her head dropped back and her pulse thudded beneath his lips. Her fingers dug into his shoulders. “It’s not that simple. You know that.”
“Yes. It is.” He skimmed his mouth along the shell of her ear. Across her cheekbone. Then whispered against her lips. “Leave the past behind you where it belongs. Give your future to me.”
She shuddered against him and her eyelids slowly opened. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”
Oh, yes, he did. Knew he’d be facing a similar terror when the time came to share his past. “I know, and I want it anyway.” His arms tightened around her of their own volition. As if the primitive part of him was terrified she’d balk and run. He rested his forehead on hers, his mouth so close to hers he ached for another taste. “Say yes. Give yourself to me. Trust me to see to your needs.”
Her breath fanned against his face, short, ragged exhalations that matched his own. “You’re crazy.” An ironic chuckle slipped out after her words. “I’m crazy. This whole thing is—”
He kissed her again. A short, but firm press of his lips against hers before her fears could reengage. “Do it anyway.”
She studied him for what felt like forever, trepidation, desire and indecision etched in every feature of her face.
The beast inside him snarled, snapped and clawed, demanding he take action. To seize what was theirs and make assurances after the fact.
But the best parts of his life had never been forced. Had been offered freely. No strings. No demands.
So, he waited.
And waited.
Kept his guard uncomfortably lowered so she could seek whatever it was she needed and tried not to think about any outcome save the one he wanted. The one he needed.
When she finally spoke, pain painted her voice in a thready rasp. “The future covers a lot of ground. You barely know me. No way can you promise me that much.”
He could. He knew himself. Knew what he’d waited for and was smart enough to appreciate that he’d found it. But he respected her caution. Her wisdom and experience. “Then give me tonight. Take tomorrow and the days that come after it one at a time. But do not keep this from us.”
Her gaze drifted down and to one side, her focus distant as if remembering. It sharpened again almost as quickly and she coasted her hands up and down his arms. A gesture that seemed as if she were trying to assure herself of where she was. That he and everything he’d said was real. Her breath came faster, and she lifted her gaze to his. “For tonight. After that, we’ll see.”
It was all he needed. One day—one night—at a time could be strung together. It was how Sergei had earned Roman’s trust. Earning Bonnie’s would be no different. Now he could show her. What it meant to be safe. Protected. Appreciated for who she was and encouraged to reach for what she wanted.
But tonight he would show her pleasure. Would stake his claim and forge a physical bond between them. He traced her lower lip with his thumb, and her kiss-swollen mouth parted on a sigh. Her eyelids slipped closed.
All the better. Her eyes had always been his undoing. The depth and expressiveness behind them. So much passion boldly displayed in their mossy depths.
Dragging his touch lower, he skimmed the pulse at her throat. Then lower, slowly dragging the moment out until the top button of her fitted white blouse blocked his path.
“You know...” Surrendering the direct contact with her skin, he made quick work of unfastening the buttons of her vest. “Watching you work tonight, I decided perhaps it is time for me to rethink our uniforms.”
Her eyes snapped open just as he pushed the vest over her shoulders and sent it floating to the floor. “It looks bad?”
“Quite the contrary.” He slipped her shirttail free of the tailored black slacks and worked each pearl button free. Sliding his hand inside the placket, his fingertips grazed the bare flesh of her stomach. Up, up, up he went until the beat of her heart hammered beneath his touch. “On you, it is too appealing. Too many men admired you for my taste, and my vor would advise that plucking their eyes from their heads would be bad for business.”