Chapter 23
23
TOMASZ
T he breeze whispers through the trees, bringing the briny scent of the sea through the billowing gauzy curtains. It’s busier than I would like or it normally is. The staff is milling around with last-minute preparations for tonight’s dinner and my uncle’s impending arrival from Boston.
“Are you sure she hasn’t run off again?” Mama chuckles as I pace the length of the shaded terrace overlooking the infinity pool with the Mediterranean Sea vista ahead of it. “I asked you before if you love her.”
“Mom…” I expel a bated breath as I turn to look at her.
The very first thing she told me when we discussed her condition was that the only thing that was left for her to die content was seeing her children happy. For her, that’s marriage and children. Love.
“Luchik…”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes.” She nods, taking a sip of sweet tea while she fans herself with a reed fan. The sun looks good on her, and while the scarf on her head does nothing to hide the fact that her blonde hair is all gone, she’s the most put together I’ve seen her in a long time. “It matters that you marry someone that you can at least grow to love. This life has its challenges, and you’ll need someone that won’t cower away. Some clever man…you know, one of those philosophers you like, once said that no man is an island, and?—”
“John Donne, Mom, and he was a poet, not a philosopher.”
“Well, he was a very smart man.” Allowing one of the staff to arrange the small platters of snacks she requested, she waits until the maid leaves before she says, “Why go through all of this to protect her if you feel nothing for the girl?”
“Because I’m a man of my word, and I said that I would keep and protect her.”
“I think that you’re hiding behind your word to escape your feelings.”
“I think you’re a romantic.”
“A dying one that wants to see her son happy.” She smiles at me.
I’m not sure how she can be so at peace with the prospect of death when I’m dreading that day as if it’s my end. And it’s that sinking sensation that has her words seeping deeper.
“A vow is a vow, Tomasz. Said in front of a priest or signed on paper isn’t what makes it a marriage; it’s the lengths you’re willing to go to keep it.” Picking a miniature syrniki from one platter, she dollops a generous spoonful of sour cream on top and drizzles it with honey before holding it out to me. “You are your father’s son. You like your pancakes the same, and the stubbornness…” Blowing out a whistle, she watches me eat the treat she dressed for me like she used to when I was little. “I had a dream that your grandmother was making me syrniki the night before last, and then you called to talk about the girl. You know what they say about those dreams? They are promises of wonderful times and conversations.”
“It’s all superstition.”
“But marriage is ordinarily a joyous thing.” She stops as soft footfalls sound from behind me.
The broad grin that cuts Mama’s face would be enough to tell me she’s finally laid eyes on my girl, but I can feel Lucy’s presence as if it is a tangible thing.
“If she makes you smile like this, it can only be a wonderful thing.” Mama chuckles as I spin to find Red standing in the archway.
We haven’t cleared the air properly since we arrived. Anton and I have been dealing with security and other arrangements for the next week before we return to Russia. Giving her my name may protect her from my father’s plans for her with the Sarapovs, but it also opens her up to other dangers.
With her hair spilling down to her waist in soft, copper waves, she’s a sight to behold in her long white cotton-and-lace shirt dress. The loose fabric pools slightly at her feet, swaying in the breeze to reveal her long legs through the unbuttoned front all the way to the top of her thigh. I’m entranced as I meander to her and take her hand, noticing that she doesn’t return my smile when I run my fingers through the long strands.
“I got waylaid with all the sprucing and pruning,” she sighs, looking down at her body.
“You look beautiful.”
“Thank you,” she replies curtly and quietly.
“You’re still angry with me.” The statement leaves a sour taste on my tongue that fills me with the need to right the tension between us.
“Not angry,” she says. With a swipe of her hair to one side of her face, she looks up at me through long lashes. It feels wrong for her to be hiding from me.
“Then what?”
“I…I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m feeling,” she blows out on a shaky breath. “This is all so sudden…it’s not how I envisioned I would marry, I?—”
“Tomasz, don’t keep your mother waiting,” Mama says, bursting the bubble we’ve found ourselves in.
It happens all the time when we’re together. The world and everyone in it cease to exist. It’s me and her and these feelings that wind tighter around us with every look, touch, and breath we share.
“We will talk after this,” I tell her as I brush her hair from her face so I can get a better fix of her.
A soft, beaming expression finally lights up her eyes, making my insides thaw. The breath that I didn’t realise I was holding whooshes from lungs with the quick drum of my heart as I guide her to my mother.
“Hello,” Mama sings, patting the seat beside her.
“Hello,” Lucy replies a little bashfully.
She’s nervous. I can tell from the way she tenses when Mom leans over to kiss each of her cheeks.
“First things first…” Mama says, reaching down to pick up a small box by her feet. “Something old and borrowed. Every woman in my family has worn these earrings on their wedding day, and my daughter will wear them too one day.”
“Oh,” Lucy chortles, looking between the two of us.
She’s trying to maintain a calm facade while I can feel her anxiety. It’s what makes me certain that my plan for this afternoon isn’t only reckless from a security perspective, but it’s the best peace offering I can give her right now.
“That’s kind, but this…we…”
“I told Tomasz that marriage is marriage. Whatever the reason for going into it doesn’t change its meaning or the binding of the promises you make.”
“Essentially, now you’re mine…you’re mine for good.” Taking a syrniki, I spoon a small mound of sour cream with a pinch of lemon zest and a strawberry instead of honey. Lucy doesn’t pull back when I make a point of feeding it to her while my mother continues on her lecture about the validity of marriage.
I’m about to interrupt her when my phone rings. Anton’s name beams up at me, and although I should take it, I’m about to ignore it when Lucy stops me.
“It’s probably important,” she tells me. Her hand resting on my thigh is the first voluntary contact we’ve had on her part. “Answer it.”
“Best behaviour.” I nod at Mom while I get up and tug Lucy to her feet with me.
It doesn’t matter whether we’re marrying for the right reasons. Whether we are a couple by choice or because of the way life has gotten all twisted. None of that matters as I kiss her. With my lips pressed to hers, I mould my hand to her face and breathe her in as deep as I can. After almost four weeks together in the mountains, the last twenty-four we’ve spent apart feels like an eternity.
“You’re mine this afternoon.” My whisper earns me another smile that makes my chest squeeze with warmth. “Don’t let her scare you away…you know I’ll find you and bring you back to me.”
With a nod, Lucy closes her eyes with a gentle hum when I deepen our kiss with a shallow lick into her mouth.
I’ve missed this. Her taste, touch…the heat of our closeness that permeates every cell of my being with a need I can’t sate. As I pull away and leave them, I can’t help but look back to steal just another glance of the only women I have ever honestly cared for.
There’s no doubt as I listen to them laugh that as much as this will be a marriage of convenience in some ways, I can’t imagine ever doing it with anyone else. I can’t fathom wanting or needing anyone the way I crave my Red.
* * *
The weather holds up for the rest of the afternoon we spend on the private beach. The temperature is mild, and the sea is warm despite the few greying clouds that hover in the distance.
“Your mum is lovely,” Lucy says as we paddle out in the water.
“Yes, she made my childhood a lot easier.”
“Same. My mum was the soft one.” After a beat, she adds, “My dad wasn’t terrible, he just had responsibilities and expectations…I suppose…”
With a hitch to her breath, she dives into the water and swims away from me. For someone that craves affection, she’s wary of allowing herself to get closer. The distance she puts between us makes me wonder whether she meant it when she said she didn’t want love anymore.
“Why do you keep doing that?” I ask when I swim over to her.
“What?”
“Pulling away.”
A serious pout tugs at her lips as she starfishes out on the surface. “Because the line between us keeps blurring.”
“You’re going to marry me. Does it matter if it does?”
“We’re not marrying because we want to. It’s a means to an end.”
The silence that follows her remark weighs down on me, reality threatening to pull me under as I watch her float. The swimsuit she’s wearing does very little to hide her gorgeous curves, and it doesn’t matter what our conversation is saying because my dick is only concerned about the vision in front of me—pert tits and elegant limbs that have filled out slightly in the last month.
“My mother is right,” I say, pushing her towards the shore with the roll of the waves. We reach the sand, and while she’s sprawled out on it, I lie on top of her, full weight, dragging her arms above her head and lacing our hands together. “The reasons don’t matter. We’re going to be together until death knocks on our door.”
Before she can argue, I kiss her. My tongue pushes into her mouth as my cock throbs between her thighs with the water lapping at us. Not holding back, she chases my lips, nipping when I pull back to look at her face.
“I may not be a good man in the grand scheme of things, but I could be good to you…if you let me.”
Flexing into her, I nip the tip of her nose with a groan that I can’t contain when she twines her legs around my thighs. The feel of her beneath me is far too good. With every one of her whimpers, my cock hardens some more.
When I nip down to her neck, sucking the tender flesh into my mouth, Red bucks up into me. Long nails dig into the back of my hands when I press them down into the sand and brace myself over her, pulling at her soft skin with my teeth so that she cries out her pained need.
“Tomasz…please…” she begs as I tease her flesh, laving down to her supple tits until I reach her bikini top. “Oh, God… God …” Lucy growls up to the sky when I pull a nipple into my mouth through the wet fabric. “God, I need you. I need you to fuck me. Please …”
Releasing her hands, I peer up at her when she leans up on her forearms. “All in good time, malyshka.”
I trail a hand down her body, kneeling up so I can watch her body bow and twist with her desperate want of me. All the while, my heart is pounding in my chest, hard and fast. My pulse is whooshing in my ears, blocking out the sound of the world around us. When I cup her pussy, she writhes into my hand. Desperate breaths push from her lips as her tits spill from their confines.
Trailing my finger up and down her covered slit, I round her clit, edging the place I know she wants me to touch the most right now. The maddened whimpers and groans wind around my muscles, knotting tighter the more I tease her. And when she’s beside herself with need, her hot arousal soaking through her swimsuit, I push to my feet.
The view on this beach has never been this beautiful, and while I want to fuck her and make her scream my name with that desperate gravel in her voice, I’m enthralled by the sight of her: long hair fanning around her in a red halo that makes the sun flush on her skin appear deeper. The freckles peppered over her body are so fucking beautiful that the urge to kiss and lick every single one overwhelms me.
“You said you could be good to me,” Red growls, her hands tracing down her body, squeezing her tits with a breathless moan that has my cock throbbing painfully.
The confines of my board shorts are so fucking tight that every movement, even slight, is torture. I’m unhinged by the ferocity of my need for her.
“Touch your pussy and I’ll leave you wanting until our wedding night,” I tell her while her hands reach the top of her bikini pants. With a testing glint in her eyes, Red edges lower. “Go on, pet. Do it, I dare you.”
I want her to. I want her to give me a reason to torture her. The clench of my muscles at the mere thought of punishing her body with more pleasure than she can take makes me ache. My hands clench at my sides into fists that are desperate to knot and pull at those long, thick strands while I tear her body apart.
The brat that she is, Lucy licks over her lips with a low groan, inching her hand lower over the front of her thighs, cupping the fleshy parts in each hand before stroking up to the juncture of her groin.
“I’ll still make you take my cock. I’ll fuck that mouth of yours until your throat is raw…” Crouching between her open thighs, I trace my gaze down to her pussy, lowering. “Maybe I’ll destroy your tight little ass instead, while you’re screaming for me to stop…”
“What if I don’t let you?” she rasps.
“You can fight me, but when has that stopped me?”
She swallows hard, a hand slipping onto the wet sand, clawing into it while the other cups her cunt.
Fuck, the punch of my heart into my lungs makes it impossible for me to catch my breath. My blood scorches through my veins, pounding down to my cock, all while she holds my stare with defiance burning back at me.
“I warned you, Red…”