Chapter 16 Alina
ALINA
It has been hours,
and the feeling of your mouth still lingers on mine.
Like a temptation meant just for me.
My lips remember the way you claimed them.
Like I was yours.
Like I have always been yours.
Your scent clings to me.
It’s settled deep in my skin.
I breathe it in, and I am lost again.
I’m caught between the woman I was
and the one you pulled from the ashes.
Forever more.
I should be afraid,
but I am not.
I feel alive in a way I never have before.
I stared down at the poem, hoping that the words would quiet the thoughts in my head. They didn’t. Instead, they only seemed to taunt me. There was no denying it. Sergei’s kiss had left an ache, and with every line I wrote, I felt like I was living it again.
His mouth crashed down on mine hard enough to steal my breath.
His hands were possessive and firm, like he’d been holding back for far too long.
Even now, I could feel his arms around me, his lips pressed against mine, and God help me, it made me want to kiss him again.
When he stepped back and broke the embrace, he looked down at me with fire in his eyes.
The man was holding on by a string, and I wanted nothing more than to yank it, forcing him to let go of his restraint and kiss me once more.
I wanted to be in his arms and feel his heart beat against mine.
I couldn’t believe I actually wanted such things.
I didn’t even know it was possible. I thought Alek had taken all of my wants and desires and crushed them with his cruelty and rules.
I thought they no longer existed, and yet, here I was.
Unraveled in ways I never dreamed possible.
It scared me, but underneath the fear was something stronger.
Longing.
It was a dangerous thought. I knew that, but it didn’t stop that ache in my chest. There was only one person who could help with that, but he wasn’t here.
He’d left well before I’d gotten up, and he hadn’t done that in weeks. And there was no note. No coffee. No toast. Nothing waiting for me in the kitchen. There wasn’t even a hint of his cologne lingering in the air. He’d been gone for hours, and I had no clue where he was or when he’d be back.
One hour stretched into the next, and before I knew it, dinner had come and gone.
Something was wrong, and I knew exactly what it was.
I’d followed Sergei to his bedroom. I’d heard his rant.
He thought kissing me was a mistake. That it was too soon.
I wanted to open the door and tell him face to face that he was wrong, but I couldn’t find the courage to step into the bathroom.
All I could do was whisper through the doorway and hope he heard me. And even then, I didn’t stick around to find out. Now, I was left wondering if that was a mistake. It was a thought that had me going to see Bog.
He was sitting at his desk near the front door, watching the security footage. His eyes skirted over to me as I approached. “Have you heard anything from Sergei?”
“He’s working.”
“Where?” I pushed. “Is he at the casino or is he doing something else?”
“He’ll be home when he can.”
His expression was hard and cold, leaving no room for argument. The disappointment hit me harder than I expected. I had more questions, but I didn’t bother wasting my breath. I simply gathered up my things and carried them into the bedroom.
I sketched for a while, but it did little to help me clear my head.
Everything I drew came back to him. His eyes.
His mouth. His hands. Eventually, I put them to the side and curled up in bed.
The next morning, there was still no sign of Sergei.
I didn’t bother asking Bog where he was.
I knew he’d just put me off, so I made myself some coffee and slipped off to the living room.
I was making a list of possible jobs that I could apply for when there was a knock at the door. I didn’t move. I figured it was just a delivery of some sort and Bog would take care of it.
Seconds later, I heard a familiar voice call out, “Alina?”
“Nikolai?”
I stood and started for the kitchen. As soon as he spotted me, Nikolai’s eyes lit up, and a smirk crossed his handsome face. “I knew you were still here.”
“Afraid so.”
“How’s it going?”
“Okay.” I shrugged. “Just doing what I can to keep myself busy. What about you?”
“Same old. Same old.” He grimaced. “I can’t believe he’s kept you cooped up in here for so long.”
“It’s not that bad.” I motioned my hand over to my sketch pad. “I’ve been working on a few things.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, just some sketches and a little poetry.”
“Sounds like a good way to bide the time.”
Before I could stop him, he’d picked up my sketchbook and started flipping through the pages—pages that were filled with pictures of Sergei. After a moment, he looked up at me with his brow perched high. “There’s a lot of Sergei in here.”
“Yeah, well.” I shrugged. “He’s pretty much the only person I’ve seen over the past month or so.”
“Um-hmm.” He motioned his head towards the front door. “What about Bog?”
“I guess he doesn’t inspire me like your brother does.”
“I see.” Realizing he’d seen right through me, heat rose to my cheeks, and that seemed to spur him on even more. “You got a thing for my big brother?”
“It’s not like that.”
“I was just messing with ya,” he scoffed. “Sergei’s a hard ass. He makes it hard to even like him, much less fall for him.”
“He’s been really good to me, Nikolai.” The words came out too quickly, too defensively, and I had no doubt he could see right through me when I added, “He’s gone out of his way to protect me and make me feel safe, and I will forever be indebted to him for that.”
“Ah, hell. You don’t just like him. You love him.” He shook his head. “I hate to break it to ya, but you’re in a world of trouble, sweetheart.”
The walls in the room suddenly felt like they were closing in on me, and I didn’t know what to say or do to make it stop. I was trying to think of a response when he threw another punch. “Have you seen or even talked to Viktor since you’ve been here?”
“No. I haven’t.”
“Damn. Sergei still hasn’t told him you’re here?”
“I don’t know what he has or hasn’t told him.”
He lingered for a moment, then turned his focus back to my sketches. I leaned over his shoulder and watched as he read one of my latest poems:
A Day of Reckoning
I begged and I pleaded, and I prayed.
I measured his breaths.
I tried to cower.
I counted the seconds until the fear became unbearable.
But that didn’t stop him from digging his claws deep into my soul.
He became all that he knew.
I carry the ache of scars.
They should send me into darkness,
yet they are the only reminder that I came out alive.
That I can bleed
That I can bruise.
That I can break.
But I will rise.
Not as the woman who suffered in silence and compliance,
But as the woman who will never bow again.
He ran his hand over the words like they meant something to him, and then sighed, “You know, these are really good. Intense, but they’re good.”
“You think?”
“I do.” He smiled. “The sketches are good, too. You have real talent. You should do something with them. Put them in a gallery or something.”
“I don’t think I could do that.”
“Then, maybe a book or something.” He dropped the pad back down on the sofa. “You could always use a pen name.”
“Maybe.”
He nodded, then let out a breath. “Well, I’ll get out of your hair. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“I’m good.”
“Have Bog call me if that changes.”
“I will.”
With that, Nikolai gave me a wink, then turned and walked out of the apartment, leaving me alone once again.
And once again, the hours seemed to drag by.
It was another day of trying to keep myself from going crazy.
I couldn’t stop thinking about what Nikolai had said about Sergei.
It was so hard not knowing what was going on with him.
There was no doubt that his distance had something to do with that kiss. I’d thought he’d wanted me as much as I wanted him, but now, I wasn’t so sure. Maybe he realized he didn’t want me at all. Maybe he regretted it so badly he couldn’t even look at me. Maybe he wished I were gone.
I had no idea what was going on in his head because he wasn’t here. I couldn’t feel him watching me or hear his voice when he talked to me. The thought made my chest ache and frustrated me at the same time.
It was nearly midnight before I heard the front door open and the quiet clink of Sergei’s keys. My heart started to race when I heard him start down the hall. I lay there for a minute and stared up at the ceiling as I tried to muster the courage to finally face him.
I had to know why he was distancing himself from me.
I had to know if he wanted me to leave.
There was only one way I was going to find out, and that was to talk to him face to face.
It took me a moment, but eventually, I forced myself to toss the covers back and get out of bed.
I opened my door and started out into the hallway.
It was dark, and I could barely see as I started toward Sergei’s room.
I didn’t get far when my toe caught on something, and before I could steady myself, I went sailing forward. A yelp slipped from my lips as pain shot through my side, sharp and hot, and then my head slammed against something hard.
Then nothing.
Everything went black.
The next morning, I woke in a daze, and I’d all but forgotten my tumble until I stretched and realized I wasn’t in my bed.
Instead, I was in Sergei’s, and that was a shock all its own.
But what was even more shocking was the fact that he was asleep right next to me.
I was a little caught off guard, but I wasn’t completely unnerved by the discovery.
Nor did I feel threatened or uncomfortable. It was just the opposite; I felt safe and protected. I had no business being in his bed, especially after his disappearing act over the past couple of days. I needed to get back to my room, and I needed to get there fast.
But the second I tried to sit up, Sergei’s arm flailed to the side and landed on my stomach, holding me in place. I froze. I didn’t want to wake him, so I eased back on my pillow.
I couldn’t get over how peaceful he looked, almost angelic, which was something I didn’t think was possible for such an intense man.
He was always handsome. Early in the morning, before his shower and before he’d even thought about brushing his hair. And when he left for work in his black business suit and designer shoes. And even when he was just in his jeans and a T-shirt. It didn’t matter. The man could turn a head.
He certainly turned mine, time and time again. But it wasn’t just his looks that got to me. It was the man behind the intense glare and fierce demeanor that made my heart skip a beat. It wasn’t a side that he showed often, but after one glimpse, I was hooked.
I was staring at his beautiful, full lips when he mumbled, “Morning.”
“Good morning.”
“You sleep okay?”
“I think so. I’m a little foggy.” I pulled the covers up to my chin and added, “I tripped on something in the hall.”
“The table next to the bathroom.”
“Yeah, I’m not sure how I managed that.” I glanced over at him as I asked, “I’m not sure how I managed to wind up in your bed either.”
“That was me. I thought you’d be more comfortable in here.” He ran his hand over his face and yawned before he said, “When I tried to leave, you wouldn’t let me.”
“I wouldn’t let you?”
“Let me rephrase.” He turned and looked at me with a smirk. “You asked me to stay with you.”
“Oh. I don’t remember that.”
“Happened just the same.” Concern flashed through his eyes as he sat up and asked, “How’s the toe?”
“It’s fine.”
“Good.” Sergei got out of bed, and my breath caught when I noticed he was only wearing a pair of boxer briefs.
I could feel the heat rush to my face as my eyes skirted over his muscular chest and drool-worthy abs.
I couldn’t imagine how often he’d have to work out to get such a perfectly defined physique. Whatever the answer, it was worth it.
The man looked like a Greek god as he walked over to the end of the bed.
I couldn’t take my eyes off him as he eased the comforter back and exposed my bare foot.
I was too busy gawking at him to realize what he was doing, but at that moment, I just didn’t care.
He could’ve thrown the covers to the floor and had his way with me. I wouldn’t have protested.
He lowered his hand to my foot, and a rush of heat surged through me when he ran the tips of his fingers along the top of it and over my ankle bone. I started to silently curse myself, wishing I’d been better about shaving my legs.
He was still studying my foot when he said, “It’s pretty bruised, but I don’t think it’s broken.”
“It’s fine.”
“It needs some ice.”
“It’s fine.” I pulled my foot back under the covers as I asked, “Where have you been?”
“I had things I needed to take care of.”
“What kind of things?”
“Work things.” I gave him a look, and he cocked his brow. “I have a casino to run, remember.”
“So, it had nothing to do with the kiss?”
I couldn’t believe that I’d actually had the nerve to ask him that outright, but I did.
The words were out there, and Sergei seemed as surprised by them as I was.
He was considering his response when there was knock at the door.
Looking almost relieved, he grabbed his pajama pants and said, “Hold that thought.”