Chapter 28 Sienna #2
A flash of realization hit me like plunging into ice water. I got them in a motorcycle accident. Declan may have gotten his skin ripped up in a road accident, but I suspected Dimitri obtained those marks some other way.
I forced myself to look away and pushed aside a stack of towels, letting out a triumphant sound as my fingers closed around a small container of Epsom salts. I pushed off the floor and sprinkled them in the bath.
Dimitri muttered something under his breath and squeezed the bridge of his nose. “Is there a reason you decided to crash into my bedroom in the middle of the night to take a bath?”
I crossed the space between us, taking the opportunity to flip the light switch. The overhead lights switched off and we were left in the lamp’s warm glow.
“That’s better.”
I took his hand in mine. It was freezing. I squeezed tighter.
In the short time I’d known Dimitri, he’d broken my heart multiple times.
Leaving without a word in Paris, his cruelty towards me in New York, his abandonment of me here in his house.
There was no reason for my heart to bleed for him now, but it did—for the pain he carried, for whatever he had gone through in life to build his harsh facade.
“The bath is for you.” I spoke softly, but he still jolted. I gently tugged him over to the tub.
My fingers went to his waistband, and he cocked an eyebrow. Relief flooded my chest at the sign of life behind his eyes.
I winked as I tugged his sweatpants down. “I was just making sure you were wearing underwear. I’ll let you choose if you keep those on or not.” I nodded at his black boxers.
He scanned the room, bewildered. “Am I dreaming?”
I scoffed. “Well, that’s a bit insulting since I’m pretty sure your dream wasn’t about a mysterious but gorgeous mermaid drawing you into the depths because just a glimpse of her is worth dying for, as long as she is the last thing you see.”
Taking advantage of his thoroughly bewildered state, I nudged him into the bath.
His boxers billowed under the water as he lowered himself down.
I kept a teasing smile on my face, even as my heart ached.
Dimitri was strong and self-assured, an immovable fortress, but right now, it felt like I was with Declan, witnessing his soft underbelly, the inner vulnerability he kept locked down seeping through the cracks.
I didn’t delude myself into believing anything would change between us after this night, and I was still bracing for him to lash out at me once he fully emerged from the dark clutches of his nightmare.
But I knew all too well what it was like to weather nightmares alone.
Maybe I was really running this bath for the child version of me who woke alone with tears streaking down her cheeks.
I took a small stack of towels from under the sink and set them beside the tub to make a little cushion for myself to sit on. I wrapped another towel around myself. It was large enough to function like a blanket, shielding me from the cold chill emanating from the floors.
“You’re really going to sit there and, what? Watch me?”
I didn’t take the bite in his voice personally.
“Are you lonely in there without me?” My chin rested on the edge of the tub.
He huffed an annoyed no, but the tension in his shoulders eased.
“I would join you, but I’m worried about boiling little Eclair.”
“You boil eclairs?”
“No, that would be bad.”
He scrubbed his hand down his face, and I took mercy on him. “The baby is the size of an eclair this week.” I glanced down to where I was absentmindedly caressing my small baby bump.
Something in Dimitri’s eyes flared. “An eclair,” he repeated.
Was he thinking about the ones we’d sampled in that Parisian bakery?
I couldn’t think about it too hard, or I would burst into tears over a man who had never even existed.
No matter how our time together ended, I didn’t want to let go of the days we’d shared.
Maybe I’d be ready to eventually, when the pain of holding on grew to be too much.
But then again, no matter how things were between us, that weekend had created our little Eclair, which meant there had been some real magic there.
“Yeah. Want to know what our Eclair is up to this week?”
He swallowed hard and nodded.
I tried to remember everything I’d read in the app. “Their bones and muscles are growing stronger, their eyes are starting to move under their eyelids, and their ears are moving into place.”
“Moving from where?”
I shrugged. “No clue. Eclair’s a bit of an alien blob right now. A very cute blob, but still.”
“Can you feel…um, movement?”
“It’s a little early.” Sofiya told me the first few times she felt Clementine move, she thought her stomach was rumbling because she was hungry. I’d been paying laser attention to any strange sensations—hunger pangs, gas—but nothing. My app said it would likely be a few more weeks.
“I guess eclairs aren’t very mobile.”
I grinned, but my eyes burned with unshed tears. I didn’t realize how much I’d needed that—to hear Dimitri talk about our baby. It made it feel real. Like I wasn’t alone in this.
“Not yet,” I breathed.
“And you don’t know the sex?”
I shook my head. “There’s a blood test I could do that would show it, but I can’t decide if I think it’d be more fun to be surprised. But if you want to know…”
He broke eye contact, and my heart did a sad flip in my chest.
“Whatever you want is fine,” he said.
I wished he had an opinion.
I wished he wanted Eclair. Wanted me.
How was it all going to work? Would the baby and I live tucked away in one wing of the house, living our own lives until Dimitri deigned to visit us?
I took a deep breath. One thing at a time.
“What is the deal with baths?” he asked.
“Oh, right. Well, you just can’t take super hot ones when you’re pregnant, but those are the only kind I like taking.”
“Is that why it feels like I’m sitting in lava?”
I snorted. “Lava?”
“Pretty sure you’re trying to boil me alive.”
In one graceful movement, he stood. The low light caught on the glistening drops dancing across the muscular ridges of his chest. From my spot on the floor, I had the perfect view of the way his soaking wet underwear plastered to his skin, highlighting a thick outline…
He swung his leg out of the tub before stripping off the boxers. They hit the floor with a squelch, leaving me with an unrestricted side view of his cock and firm ass cheek.
Sigh. They were as nice as I remembered. I’d thought—hoped—that my virginal brain had been so overwhelmed by the first man I’d been with that I’d exaggerated his sexiness.
Alas, no.
He wrapped a towel around his hips and extended his hand to me. I took it, letting him gently pull me off the floor. Even standing, I had to tilt my head back to meet his gaze.
“I’m not sure I should thank you for trying to boil me alive.”
“Wimp,” I teased.
A ghost of a smile tugged at his lips before it vanished, replaced by his usual unreadable blankness.
“It’s late.” His tone was brusque.
My footsteps were heavy while I followed him out of the bathroom.
I wanted to crawl into his bed. Wrap my limbs around him. Sink into his chest and feel his arms holding me.
But I had pushed this too far.
“Sweet dreams,” I murmured. And then, because I couldn’t end the interaction on such an embarrassingly sincere note, I added, “Stay alert for flying slippers.”
As I closed the door gently behind me, Dimitri’s quiet “Goodnight, Sienna” echoed through the wooden surface.