Chapter 20
NIKOLAI
The wind howls through the lodge like a wounded animal, rattling windows and screaming down the chimney. Outside, the blizzard rages with violent fury but I barely notice it.
All my attention is focused on the woman sleeping in my arms.
Holly's breathing has finally evened out, her body warm and soft against my chest. Her hand rests over my heart, fingers curled into my shirt, as if even in sleep she’s anchoring herself onto something solid.
Something that will protect her.
And so I don’t move.
Instead, I sit here in the firelight, tracing slow patterns through her silky hair as I watch her sleep.
I've seen fear before. I'm intimately acquainted with it. The way a man's eyes widen when he realizes he's made a fatal mistake, the way his breath comes faster when my gun presses against his temple. Fear is a tool I've wielded my entire life.
But the fear I saw in Holly's eyes tonight was different.
And I desperately wanted to take it from her.
I wanted to wear it for her.
But I was powerless.
And that hit me like a fist to the chest.
Because if there is one thing I am not used to, it is being powerless.
She stirs slightly, and a soft sound escapes her lips, but she doesn't wake. Just burrows deeper into my chest. Seeking safety.
Seeking me.
I carefully lift her in my arms and carry her up the stairs but bypass the guest room where she's been staying and carry her down the hallway to my bedroom.
For her sake, I should take her to her own bed.
But I don't.
Because my bedroom is the best, and the safest, in the house.
The sheets are cool as I lay her down, and she makes a small sound of protest at the loss of my warmth. I pull the comforter over her, tucking it around her shoulders, and force myself to step back.
I turn toward the door.
"Don't go."
Her voice stops me mid-step. It's barely a whisper, soft and drowsy, but it holds me there.
I look back. Her eyes flutter open and those big brown eyes find mine in the dim light from the hallway.
"Please stay with me. I don’t want to be alone."
I hesitate.
I want to walk back to that bed and take her in my arms and hold her through the night.
I want to kiss the fear from her lips.
I want to peel every piece of clothing from her body and make her forget the storm outside with every inch of mine.
But that’s not what she needs from me tonight.
What she needs is comfort.
And I will give it to her.
I won’t let her fear get to her again tonight.
Not with my arms around her.
I cross the room to the bed and slide in beside her. Immediately she curls into me, her head finding that spot beneath my chin like she was made to fit there.
Her arm drapes across my chest, and she releases a soft sigh that sounds like relief.
"Thank you," she murmurs against my shirt.
I wrap my arms around her. "Sleep, malyshka. I'm not going anywhere."
She makes a small sound and presses closer. Her leg slides between mine, and her fingers curl into my shirt again, and damn if this doesn’t feel like everything I thought it would.
Each second pulls me deeper into something I've been consumed by for months now.
Ever since the day I saw her outside her gallery. When I left my car and crossed the street to purposely put myself in her path so those big brown eyes would look up and see me.
I close my eyes against the memory and press my lips to the top of her head.
In a matter of hours, the storm will pass.
But what it leaves behind will change everything.