20. Konstantin
20
KONSTANTIN
After everything I’ve been dealing with, Emily managed to get under my skin with a single word.
Babies. I grit my teeth. Why the hell did she have to bring babies up?
I should’ve laughed. I should’ve dismissed it like the silly suggestion that it is.
But I didn’t.
Maybe because a part of my mind drifted back to our night in Italy. And as soon as she asked that question, the only thing I can think of is her shapely legs wrapped around me, her neck exposed to me as she throws her head back in ecstasy.
Fuck.
But the part that’s bothering me isn’t the idea that I might want babies with Emily. It’s the fact that if I want to make this marriage look real to my grandmother, then babies might actually be a part of the bargain.
And I know for a fact that Emily will never agree to that.
I pass a mirror in the hallway of my castle. I stop short to stare at myself. I look like hell. Leaning closer, I rub at the shadows under my eyes. And then I trace the light scratch that Emily gave me.
Once I get some food in her and she settles in, I can try a do-over. Torture isn’t the only way to get what I want out of people. Manipulation can be softer … sweeter, even.
Who knows what I’ll gain if I try to be gentler with Emily.
But truthfully, I don’t want gentle. The memory of kissing her and touching her invades my mind, and my pants strain again at the thought.
I can’t seem to push out of my mind. She’s somehow taken root deep inside.
And it’s only a matter of time before those roots reach from my mind to somewhere else.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I yank it out before the first vibration finishes, eager for a distraction.
It’s Sima.
“Emilio Lanzzare knows,” He speaks as soon as the line connects. “And so does Augusto. Both of them seem equally pissed.”
“And?”
“They want you to know that you broke protocol.”
“That’s the fucking point.” I clench the phone in my hand. “Are the Ferratas calling for war?”
“As far as I can tell, yes.” Sima answers. “But Emilio is sitting this one out. It seems that you made the right call in assuming he doesn’t want to start something across the ocean. Not yet at least.”
“Of course he doesn’t, not with the East Coast Bratvas breathing down his neck as it is.”
“There’s more.” Sima clears his throat. “Alla Antonovna wants to know if there’s a date for the ceremony.”
“Tell her that I will inform her in person.”
“Understood.”
I’ve barely lowered my phone when footsteps parade from the other end of the hall, rushing in my direction.
“Konstantin Yurevich! There you are!”
One of my gardeners, her thick overalls stained with grass and mud, halts in front of me. I think her name is Anna, but she looks so much like her cousin Polina, who also work for me, that I get them mixed up. Her cheeks are ruddy from the effort of sprinting.
“ Chto? ” I ask warily.
She points out the nearest window. “Your guest is trying to swim across the lake!”
I don’t have to ask her any other questions to know that she’s talking about Emily.
“Dammit, is she crazy?” I hiss under my breath, running down the corridor. Some of my staff gasp at the sight of me, dodging out of my way.
I open the first door I come across that takes me outside.
Well, I’ll be goddamned.
Emily isn’t quite halfway across the lake, and she’s struggling in the water. I squint, and true to my initial suspicion, she’s starting to flounder.
At the rate she’s moving, she won’t make it to the far shore before she drowns.
The lake is deceptive, with strong currents hidden under its placid surface from the rivers feeding into it.
Even on my best days, it’s a challenge to swim this thing.
She’s out of her mind if she thinks she can cross it right now.
Searching the shoreline, I spot what I need: a wooden boat—white as the swans that scatter when I jump into it and shaped like a diamond with the corners smoothed down.
She must’ve been so eager to escape that she didn’t even see it.
Must be my answer to her question about babies, I muse as I start rowing.
My shoulders burn from how hard I twist the paddles. Emily doesn’t see me approaching; she’s singularly focused on her destination. When I draw closer, I notice just how much she’s struggling—gasping for breath, kicking sluggishly, and barely sending up flecks of water with each slowing motion of her arms.
“You’re exhausted,” I say loudly.
“Fuck … you …” She inhales water, coughing. “Get … away … from me!”
I drop the paddles and lean over the side. She’s within reach, but I don’t grab her. “You’ll never make it.”
“Yes … I … will!”
“There’s a quarter of a mile left to go, Kitty Cat.”
Instead of responding, she summons another burst of energy and paddle her feet behind her with reckless abandon.
She was smart enough to remove her shoes, but her clothes are weighing her down.
“Your determination is admirable,” I chuckle. “But you need to get in the boat before hurt yourself.”
Emily narrows her eyes, pursing her lips together. They’re not their normal, luscious red … There’s a sickly, pale blue to them.
She tries to lift her head higher, but all she manages to do is gulp down another mouthful of water. Her limbs part the water like she’s making a snow angel, her next kicks becoming progressively slower. Bubbles break the surface before she gets her nose up.
But her chin stays under.
“Emily!” My heartbeat quickens.
She dips beneath the water again with her eyes scrunched tight. Another swing of her left arm, then her right …
And then nothing.
She’s drowning!
“EMILY!” I shout, reaching over to coil my hands in her shirt. The water has made her heavier. I wrench backwards, grunting, to pull her into the boat.
Her soaked body slams into mine. The boat rocks from the impact. But she’s not moving.
“Emily!” I call to her.
Her lips were purple before, and now they’re blue from lack of oxygen. Panic fills my heart. No, no, no! Laying her down on the boat, I start chest compressions.
“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon!” I beg to whoever might be listening as sweat pours down from my brows.
I tilt her head and press my lips to hers. Her lips are cold as ice.
No, please don’t be dead. Please don’t!
I offer up two quick breaths before I resume the chest compressions. Seconds pass by, and still, she doesn’t respond.
“Emily! Wake up!” I scream as tears start to well in my eyes. “Wake up!”
I keep up the work, alternating between chest compressions and manual breathing. Suddenly, she coughs up a mouthful of water. Then another. And another. She takes a deep ragged breath, turning over, and I slump in the boat beside her, panting.
“You’re alright,” I whisper as I help pound her back to get the remaining lake water out of her lungs. “You’re okay. You’re okay.”
Warm relief floods through my body, and I hold her close to me. She shivers and coughs, driving her tiny frame against me with each movement. Her body is enveloped in mine, and my clothes collect the water from hers until I’m just as wet as she is.
Groaning, Emily pushes herself back from my embrace. Long strands of her chestnut hair dangle and stick to her neck, and cheeks. She blinks at me with water droplets collecting on her eyelashes like diamonds on tree branches.
In the setting sun, she looks breathtaking.
Like a water nymph that has emerged from the lake.
And here she is, in my arms.
I forget what I was doing … or why I’m in the boat.
Nothing exists but her.
My hand rises up to cup her face. The confusion in her expression morphs into something bitter, and she pushes me away, scooting as far as she can in the tiny space of the boat and curling into a tight ball.
She flips her middle finger at me and spits out another mouthful of water.
“I am not having your babies!”
It takes everything in me to not start laughing at her bravado. She barely survived a brush with death, and yet she’s still willing to fight me at every turn.
This girl is beautiful. Unpredictable.
Irresistible. Wild.
She almost died trying to escape me.
“You saved me …” she finally says as we near the shore.
“Of course I did,” I reply.
“Because you need me to marry you?” Her voice is weak, but there’s no hiding the strength of her anger towards me.
“No, Emily.” I shake my head. “Because I made you a promise that I’ll keep you safe. And when I make a promise, I keep it.”
I force myself to stop staring at her nearly transparent clothes. The only sound between us is the sound of the paddles scraping across the water and her labored breathing and occasional cough.
When the boat touches the shore, she turns to me again. “What’s so funny?”
“What are you talking about?” I ask.
“You’re smiling.”
I respond with the only thing that comes to mind. “Because you’re safe.”
And that’s the goddamn truth.
A number of people have gathered around the lake. They must have been transfixed by the spectacle of me rescuing Emily. Chatter rises up all at once as we near the shore, each person offering assistance and asking questions in a mix of Russian and Croatian.
Among the group I spot a short, older woman with soft curves and blonde braids worn in coils on her head.
“Ivica!” I call out. “Help me.”
My head housekeeper hurries over to help me. But Emily wrenches away from both of us, her eyes narrowing in fierce slits.
“Easy now, dear,” Ivica cautions.
“Get her cleaned up,” I say gently. “Fresh clothes. Warm drinks. You know what to do.”
Ivica nods emphatically.
Turning on my heel, I stride over the grass toward the castle, my socks squishing loudly in my shoes. I’m a goddamn mess, but the wind that strokes over my soaked clothes has no chill to it.
The warmth in me is firmly embedded in my veins.
Inside the castle, I pass by the mirror from earlier. This time, instead of my haggard face, I notice something else.
I’m still smiling.
Wiping the expression away, I smooth my damp hair off my forehead and sigh. Emily has a strong spirit. I’ll have to stay on my toes around her. But as determined as she was to escape, I’m more determined to stop her.
This isn’t the first time she’s run from me.
But it will be the last.