Chapter 27
CHAPTER
TWENTY-SEVEN
GEORGIA
I wake up as Andrei gently untangles his body from mine. We’re in his bed now. I couldn’t have been asleep for more than ten minutes. My limbs are heavy and sated after another round of mind-blowing sex.
After going at it like animals in his private gallery, Andrei made good on his promise and allowed me to fangirl over every piece in his personal collection.
He really does love art as much as I do and that makes me even more wild for him.
This last round in his bed was more intimate, more like making love.
“Where are you going?” I moan, as Andrei sits up.
A soft laugh. “To get you a glass of water and Tylenol. You’re going to be sore tomorrow after how I used you tonight.”
“I’m fine,” I assure him. “Stay with me.”
His enormous frame envelops me as we lie on our sides spooning, his warmth seeping deep in my bones. “Do you always walk around with a mile of pearls stashed in your pocket?”
“No,” he whispers in my ear, his powerful chest pressed flush against my back.
“But I had a feeling I might need them tonight. Or maybe I just hoped I could see you tortured by pearls. I ordered it from my jeweler the day after we met.” He chuckles at his admission, and my heart skips a beat.
He knew we would come together, eventually.
Maybe on some level, I knew we would as well.
“They are certainly effective.” I admit, stretching my arms out above me, needing to move my body again and allow blood to flow back into my limbs.
He rolls me onto my back, taking my mouth in a possessive kiss, his tongue dancing with my own.
When he finally pulls back to look into my eyes, I am awed by the intensity that meets me.
My gaze drifts down his body, landing on his powerful chest.
“What does this mean?” I breathe, tracing my finger over a tattoo of a hummingbird over his heart, and a beautiful constellation of stars hovering below the bird.
A deep sigh, as he pulls me closer, kissing my forehead. “It’s for my mother. Hummingbirds are beautiful and fragile like her, like life itself. The stars are my brothers and me, always close. Wherever she is.”
“What was she like, your mother?” I ask gently, tracing the intricate art with my fingers. I’m pushing him and I know there is a chance he’ll pull away. But for now, he sighs and rolls onto his back, his hands under his head.
“She was full of life. Loved art, like you. My father and her met at a charity event when he bought a piece of her art that was being auctioned off. He says he fell in love with her painting, even before he met her, although once he set eyes on her, all bets were off. He was smitten.”
“So your parents were a love match?” I know that’s not always the case in the world of the mafia. Like royalty long ago, marriages are arranged to unite powerful families and create alliances.
“They were,” he confirms. “For a while, at least. My mother struggled in the world of the bratva—the need for protection, the constant danger—it’s not a peaceful world, krasotka.”
“I know,” I whisper, twining his fingers with my own.
“Outsiders tend to think it’s exciting at first—until they realize the shit never ends.
The violence, the bloodshed, the treachery.
You can’t ever walk away from it. My mother loved my father when she married him, but every mark of blood eroded that love.
Love isn’t enough once you glimpse the ugliness. ”
His warning rings in my ear, a reminder that we will never be more than this.
Pulling me closer to him, he continues. “But for all the darkness, I remember a mother who loved us, who would try to lose our protection detail and take us to art galleries, who would sneak us chocolate chip cookies and warm milk in our bed at night, or pile us all into her car and drive us to Jersey shore, just so we could splash around and experience a normal childhood. But the life got to her. I was young, but I knew something wasn’t right. I just couldn’t help her.”
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper, trailing my hand down his biceps.
“You lost your mother, too.” He acknowledges, pulling back so he can look at me.
“Yeah.” I sigh, a hollow ache blooming in my chest. “It was hard, but I was so young. Just turned four years old when my mom got sick. That’s why my dad is so important to me. He’s the only family I have.”
“I know, and I’m going to make sure you get back to him.”
“Will you let me design a tattoo for you? One representing Kira?” Anticipation buzzes in my veins. He’s quiet for a moment, looking past me into the shadows of the room. “If I find her, that is.”
“If you find her, I’ll give you the world.
” He lowers his face, meeting my eyes. It’s almost too much, too intense, like staring into the sun.
His lashes are spiked with moisture, his thick hair tousled and sexy looking.
He traces his thumb over my bottom lip and kisses me softly.
I don’t know what any of this means, but I know I’ve never felt safer or more protected in my life.
Maybe it’s foolish, but I do trust him. I trust him with my life.
“Please promise me something?” I ask. “No matter what happens, you’ll look after my dad.”
“Nothing bad will happen to you, krasotka. I swear it.” His voice is hard as nails. Conviction seeped into every word. Andrei seems to believe he has the power to control the moon and stars, but I know that anything in life is possible.
“Fine, I believe you. But still, I need to know before I go back to Oleg. No matter what—”
“You have my word.” He curves his big palm around my jaw, his thumb brushing over my cheek as he gazes down at me.
“I will take care of everything, including your father. But you can’t be worrying about this right now.
” His voice is nearly a whisper—an erotic caress over my skin.
“Now it’s time you slept. I used your body hard, and I intend to do it again before the sun is up. ”
I yawn and stretch out, feeling deliciously satisfied. “I look forward to it,” I say, as I drift to sleep secure in his arms.