Her light, happy chuckle titillates every nerve-ending in my body. “Can I count on my husband to dance with me too?”
The image of me standing at the altar never crossed my mind until I met Layla. I lived in the moment, not caring about what the future held. Then, Layla made an entrance... I wanted her to be mine right away, and a few weeks later, I wanted her to stay mine.
I don’t enjoy dancing, but I’ll make an exception for my wife. One dance, or five... maybe a dozen.
“I’ll be the first one to dance with you. And the last. And some number in-between.” I take a deep breath, convincing myself that we should stop talking for a while for her sake. She occupies my every conscious and unconscious thought, making it damn near impossible to protect her.
“Go on,” she urges. “Get it out. What’s wrong?”
As always, she senses the change in the atmosphere even though she’s five thousand miles away. All it took was my one deep breath to kick-start her sixth sense.
“I won’t call you for a few days, Star.”
“Why? Did something happen?” A tingle of worry in her voice tenses the muscles on my back.
God, I fucking hate hearing her worried.
Relationships don’t work this way, I’m sure. People don’t feel the sort of extreme protectiveness I feel toward Layla, or else most men in the world would be certifiably insane. This isn’t healthy, but I understand my own psychotic mind. We’re both emotionally challenged in different ways.
“Everything’s fine, but I need to switch off for a few days. I’ll call you when the chaos is more manageable, but if anything happens, if—”
“I know. I’ll call you. Do what you have to do. Don’t worry about me. Maybe it’s unreasonable, but I feel safe here.”
She has no idea how desperately I try not to worry for just five fucking minutes. Long enough to catch my breath, to get a break from the overpowering, irrational feelings.
“Youaresafe. Stay close to Anatolij. He won’t let a hair fall off your head.”
She clicks her tongue. Although I can’t see her, I have no trouble imagining what she looks like right now: pouty mouth, eyebrows pulled together, and probably one hand on her hip. Gorgeous. She’s so fucking beautiful when she’s annoyed.
“Funny you should say that. Julij has a different opinion on the matter.”
My eyes narrow at the man in question who sits opposite me, watching Vegas out of the tinted windows. A dreamy, barely-there smile on his face clearly indicates who he’s thinking about. Since he came back from Moscow, he acts more infatuated than before. Or maybe he just stopped hiding it. Either way, he’s pissing me off.
“And what’s that?” I ask.
“I spend a lot of time with Anatolij. Julij seems to think his uncle wants to sleep with me.”
I can’t help but laugh. God, keeping the truth away from Julij’s ears is absolutely killing me. One sentence would dissolve his feelings in the blink of an eye, but I promised Anatolij to keep it a secret until he finds the courage to tell Layla himself.
“Julij’s got a vivid imagination.”
At the sound of his name, he looks up. “What?”
“That he does. I have to go. I’ll wait for your call. If I can make it that long without talking to you.”
The real question is whether I have it in me to stay away from her. “Have fun, baby.”
“What was that about? What did she tell you about me?” Julij asks once I cut the call.
“I told you I’ll tolerate it that you love her until you cross a line. Tone down with the jealousy, or I’ll show you how much a broken jaw hurts.”
He folds his arms over his chest, a knowing look on his face. “She told you...”
“You thought she wouldn’t? You don’t know her very well, do you? She won’t risk jeopardizing the little trust I put in her so far.”
Layla’s been tiptoeing around me since I arrived in Texas. Always nervous about making one false move. She’s slowly regaining her confidence, though. I can’t wait to have the girl I fell in love with back, showing off her true colors.
“It’s not about jealousy. It’s about safety,” Julij clips, seemingly pissed off that Layla hadn’t kept their conversation private. “She’s alone there. I just want her to be careful but don’t twist it to your preference. She’s not mine. I don’t fucking care who she sleeps with.”