In the most perfect way for two imperfect people.
47
Nikolai
As the last echoes of the ecstasy fade away, I become aware of the hard surface of the desk under my naked back and the slight weight of Chloe’s body draped across my sweat-dampened chest. My brain is overflowing with endorphins, and my heart is thudding in a newly hopeful rhythm in my chest.
I told her everything, and instead of recoiling in revulsion, she embraced me.
I laid bare the worst parts of myself, and instead of running away in terror, she told me that we’re fated.
Which we are. I’ve known it from the beginning, but at some point in the last couple of weeks, I’ve lost sight of it, begun to doubt whether our relationship can survive the poison festering inside me… whether we’re destined to go down my parents’ agonizing path.
“We’re not,” Chloe murmurs, lifting her head off my shoulder, and I realize I said the last part out loud. Smiling tenderly, she traces the edges of my lips with one slender finger, her eyes so soft and warm her gaze is like a physical caress on my face. “We decide our life, our future.”
Sitting up, I pull her onto my lap, a surfeit of emotions filling my chest as I inhale her wildflower scent and feel her slender arms wrap trustingly around my neck. Tenderness and possessiveness, love and lust, fear and joy—they battle inside me until it feels as if my ribcage can’t contain it all.
Is it possible?
Could Chloe’s love for me be more than a sweet mirage?
Could this kind of happiness be real and lasting?
There’s so much I want to talk to her about, so many things I want to tell her… another confession I want to make concerning her father’s fate. But for now, this is enough. I don’t want to spoil this perfect moment by bringing up any sort of contentious topics. So I just kiss the top of her head and hold her tight, content—truly content—for the first time in my life.
48
Chloe
I want to stay like this, cuddled on Nikolai’s lap, forever, but I know that we eventually have to move. Out of the corner of my eye, I spy my dress on the floor next to his shirt—along with the laptop we knocked off the desk in our passion. We should retrieve the computer, make sure it’s okay… maybe talk about the cameras as well. Or better yet, about our future overall. But before we get there, there’s something I have to tell him.
Lifting my head from his broad shoulder, I pull back to meet his warm amber gaze. “Thank you,” I say softly. “Thank you for doing what you did to Bransford. I know it’s not a perfect solution—I know that even dethroned, he might be dangerous—but I think—”
A loud banging on the door makes us both jump. “Nikolai!” Pavel’s deep voice is tense, the stream of Russian that follows urgent.
“Fuck!” Nikolai shifts me off his lap and jackknifes to his feet, grabbing his clothes and yanking them on in a series of explosive movements.
It’s such a sudden transition from the peace we were just enjoying that I’m too stunned to process it at first. But then adrenaline clears my mind, and I leap into motion as well.
“What’s wrong? Is Slava sick again?” I scramble for my dress, my heart in my throat as I pull it on.
Nikolai is already by the back wall, pressing his palm against the smooth, white surface. “Slava is fine,” he says grimly as a section of the wall slides away, revealing a room full of weapons to my startled gaze. “It’s our guards. Arkash messaged Pavel about spotting something strange, and now Pavel can’t get in touch with him—or any of our other men.”
I gasp, my fist flying up to press against my lips. “You think—”
“We’re being attacked? Yes.” He grabs a terrifying-looking M16. “And if I had to bet, my money would be on the Leonovs.”
49
Nikolai
Chloe’s brown eyes are wide with fear and shock as I set my weapon down on the desk and shepherd her out into the hallway, where Pavel is waiting. My heart thuds furiously in my chest, adrenaline pumping through my veins as I order harshly, “Get her, Slava, and Alina to the safe room.”
He nods, grabbing Chloe in a bear hug. “Lyudmila and the two of them are inside already.”
“Wait!” Chloe cries out as he picks her up and carries her down the stairs. “Let me help. I can—”
I don’t hear the rest of what she says because I’m already back inside my office. I can’t take the time to calm my zaychik, not when every second brings Alexei Leonov closer to our door. And it has to be him. He has to be the one behind this. Our faces must’ve blipped on some security camera at the hospital, and his hackers tracked us here. It’s the only explanation that makes any kind of sense, the only way they could’ve triangulated our location.