Chapter 55
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
Savina
AFTER A DELICIOUS dinner of peanut butter and jelly (hey, we’re slowly running out of options here), Dimitri takes a shower.
Bored and tired of staring at a snowy TV screen, I check out his little makeshift library in the corner of the cabin.
My fingertips skim over the titles, most of which I have already read.
I never pegged Dimitri for a Pride and Prejudice kind of reader, but I guess looks can be deceiving.
He has a soft side, even if nobody else but me has ever caught a glimpse of it.
A thinner book with no title wedged in between the paperbacks catches my eye. “Is this…” I pull out the thin book and instantly recognize the scrawled, scratched cover. It’s my old sketchbook, the one that I thought I lost back in high school.
I think back to that day when I left it in the cafeteria. I ran into Dimitri on the way back, and he said he didn’t see it. But clearly, he did, and he kept it all of these years.
He lied. But why?
I place it on my lap, tears gathering in my eyes when I flip through the pages. It’s like going back in time. I put all of my thoughts and sketches into this for years. And when I’d lost it, it almost felt like I had lost a part of my soul.
I barely realize Dimitri has even entered the room until I hear the floor creaking beside me.
“You found it,” he whispers.
My eyes jump up to meet his. His dark hair is dripping wet and falls over his blue gaze, which looks worried.
And then I notice that he’s only wearing a towel around his waist. My eyes greedily peruse his muscular chest, pecs and abs, which are on full display, and I’m astounded by the number of tattoos covering his skin.
He’s never taken his shirt off in front of me before, and I never knew why…
until now. I spot a familiar tattoo on his left bicep, and I instantly recognize it because I used to draw it over and over again in my notebook.
He took one of my drawings to an artist to be turned into a tattoo?
“Wait a minute,” I start before my voice trails off.
Pushing him gently, he flops down onto the bed, grumbling in the process.
I don’t think he likes me staring at his ink this closely, but I decide that I don’t care.
Curiosity has gotten the best of me, and now I have to make sure he doesn’t have any more of my drawings on him.
Quickly, I climb onto his lap, straddling his tree trunk thighs.
“Savina,” he starts, but I clamp my hand over his mouth.
“Just shut up for a second,” I murmur before I hold the open sketchbook up to his forearm, staring in awe as the drawing in my book is an exact replica of his tattoo.
I flip to another page and find another tattoo on his stomach that matches.
And then I do it over and over again until I realize his body is ninety-nine percent covered in my drawings.
I’m rendered speechless as I try to grasp what this all means.
“I’m sorry I stole your sketchbook,” he starts, pulling me out of my reverie. “You left it behind in the cafeteria one day, and I took it home with me.” He stares at me for a long time before he says, “I know how long you spent looking for it. I should have told you.”
I spent forever looking for that damn book.
I even went as far as checking the lost and found in the library every day for almost a year, hoping that it would be returned to me.
And all this time…he had it and was using it to put my art on his body.
“What was the first tattoo you copied?” I wonder out loud.
“This one,” he says, pointing to his chest. And there, on his left pec muscle, is my signature. I stupidly had been signing my name over and over in the book. But then I realize it’s not just my name. It’s my first name…with his last name.
Savina Sokolov.
And he had it tattooed right over his heart.
A sense of sadness that I’ve never felt before hits me like a ton of bricks.
I don’t know what’s worse — the fact that we’ll never be married and that he tattooed that name over his heart thinking that I would be his forever, or the fact that I thought he hated me so much back then that it forced me to hate him in return.
Tears fill my eyes when I’m finally able to meet his gaze. “I thought you always hated me,” I confess in a whisper.
“Maybe at first. I felt like I was trapped with that contract, like I didn’t have a say in my own life, and it made me so damn angry.
Angry at everyone, but especially you. So, I pushed you away, pretended like you were nothing to me.
Meant nothing to me.” He hesitates. “But then I got to know you. I grew to even like you,” he says as if he can’t believe it himself.
“Deep down, I think I wanted you to hate me. Because if you hated me, then I wouldn’t have to face what I was starting to feel for you,” he confesses with a tortured sigh.
“I never truly hated you, Savina. I loathed the situation we were forced into. But there’s one thing that always remained true.
I was always trying to protect you, no matter what. ”
I study his eyes and face for any signs of deceit but find none there.
Dimitri was protecting me the only way he knew how.
I’m sure he probably resented me for a lot of things, but he never truly hurt me.
He was trying to keep me out of situations and away from people who could, though. And I never saw that…until now.
“Savina, the things you said right before they took you,” he starts, but I don’t let him finish.
“It’s okay, Dimitri. I know I wasn’t just some sort of bet.
I know you weren’t using me,” I explain softly.
Hell, I had a lot of time to think things over while I was being held captive, and most of my thoughts were consumed by Dimitri.
I had a lot of regrets, but the biggest one was how we had left things between us.
I was upset, consumed by the mounting overwhelming pressure of the wedding, and I let it get the best of me.
I accused Dimitri of some awful things and interpreted his silence as agreement instead of letting him tell me how he truly felt.
“How…how did you know?” he questions.
“Because you saved me. And if even a piece of what I believed was true, you never would have put yourself in danger to rescue me.” Tears fill my eyes as I stare into his familiar blue eyes. “You risked everything, including your own life, in exchange for mine.”
“And I would do it all over again in a heartbeat,” he confesses.
Even if he’s never said the words, even if he never does, I know that Dimitri loves me. Maybe he always has.
And maybe I have always loved him too.
I let the notebook fall from my fingers as I grip Dimitri’s face and pull him closer, our lips locking into an intense and hungry kiss.
I pour my heart and soul into that kiss, letting him know exactly how I feel.
And he kisses me back just as fiercely. His lips claim, press, demand.
My head tilts back as he deepens the kiss, angling me exactly where he wants me.
His rough thumb drags along my jawline, slow and deliberate, before he grips tighter, holding me steady as his tongue traces the seam of my mouth.
I open for him, and his tongue quickly conquers mine.
His large hands cup my ass, pulling me impossibly closer and grinding my center down on his towel-covered erection as he groans into my mouth.
Dimitri pulls back, and I meet his molten gaze.
“Savina,” he says, his voice raw and rough.
He opens his mouth to say something more; but suddenly, his cell phone rings, filling the room with a melodic tone.
“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath before gently kissing my lips one more time. “It might be my brother.”
Maybe he has news about Darby. That thought has me scrambling off of Dimitri’s lap, so that he can retrieve his phone from the kitchen counter. I admire his muscular back as he answers his phone and talks in Romanian to the person on the other end.
A few minutes later, he ends the call and turns to tell me, “It was Andrei.”
“Oh,” I say, disappointed. “His nose still broken?” I ask with a smirk.
Dimitri huffs out a laugh. “I think he got it fixed.” He runs his fingers through his damp black hair.
“He just wanted to let me know that the Irish Mafia are sending in fresh men from Dublin. I took out the entire clan, including their captain in the warehouse, so I guess they’re going to replace their dead boss soon. ”
“What does that mean for Darby?” I question, my hands trembling in my lap.
“I’m not sure. I told him to find out anything he can about her and Cillian.” Then he adds, “Don’t worry, Savina. When we get back, I’ll do everything in my power to find your friend.”
When we get back. Oh yeah, right, because all of this is only temporary.
We’ll be back to reality soon enough, and then I’ll have to deal with the consequences of our actions.
I’ll be married off to Pavel, and Dimitri will probably run off to another country or something, never to be seen or heard from again.
Tears fill my eyes as I sit there somberly. A moment later, Dimitri walks over and kneels before me.
“Don’t cry,” he whispers, his dark brows knitting together as his blue eyes lock onto mine. He cups my cheek with his large palm, his thumb wiping away the stray tear trickling down my cheek. “Everything will be okay,” he tells me, but even I can hear the doubt in his voice.
The only thing I know for sure is that nothing will ever be okay again after I say, “I do”.