CHAPTER 4
Anastasia
Not knowing how much time has passed since we started talking, I suddenly realize the noise outside my workshop has faded away, making me wonder whether the party is over. “I think everyone has left.”
When I get up, Rodian also rises to his feet, and I’m very conscious of the intense energy he gives off.
“I’m just going to check,” I say, and walking to the door, I open it.
As I step into the hallway, Rodian joins me and asks, “Is there a restroom I can use?”
“Of course.”
We walk to the backstage area, and finding it empty, I gesture to the other hallway that leads to the kitchen and offices. “The restroom is down there. It’s the first door on the right.”
Rodian pauses to ask, “Are you calling it a night, or do I have you for a bit longer?”
Really?
I check my wristwatch, and seeing it’s already past midnight, a gasp escapes me. “No wonder the party is over.”
When I look up, Rodian says, “I want to spend more time with you.”
Feeling flattered, a shy smile forms on my face as I admit, “I’d like that.” I jab a thumb over my shoulder. “While you use the restroom, I’m going to make sure all the doors are locked.”
Rodian shakes his head. “Wait for me. I don’t like the idea of you walking around the empty theater by yourself.”
I swear I go weak in the knees while my heart skips a beat, and grinning, I nod. “Okay.”
As he walks away from me, I admire how the crisp white dress shirt fits over his broad back, his trimmed waist, and a butt that can only be described as God’s gift to women.
This drop-dead handsome man is interested in me.
My grin grows, and the urge to do a happy dance surges through me.
Because I attended girls-only boarding schools and none of the men I’ve encountered after graduating ever showed any interest in me I’ve never had the opportunity to date
My thoughts return to Rodian, and I wonder about his accent. It sounds Eastern European, but I can’t narrow it down to a specific country, and I don’t want to ask.
Since we started talking, we’ve kept the topics general and haven’t exchanged personal information. I want to keep it that way because there’s no way I can share any of my family details with him.
Just as I think of my impending return to Russia, Rodian comes back. He’s busy rolling up his left sleeve, and my eyes catch on the veins snaking beneath his skin.
Seeing a tattoo of a snowflake, every branch beautifully detailed, the top point longer with an N through it, I ask, “What’s the story behind your tattoo?”
Rodian turns his arm to glance at it, and the corner of his mouth lifts. “My cousin loves snowflakes.” He brushes his thumb over the ink before adding, “The N stands for north. A reminder of home, and a promise to myself to never forget where I come from.”
Loving the story behind the snowflake, I look at his right arm, noticing the tattoos are completely different.
There’s an anatomical heart with a dagger driven straight through it. Thick chains surround the blade and organ, several of the links broken. Roses are worked into the detail, while thorny vines snake through the entire piece.
Before I can ask, Rodian says, “Show the way so we can check the doors.”
“Oh, right!” I walk down the corridor, and when we enter the auditorium, I glance up at him. “I’m curious. Why did you attend the play alone?”
Something mischievous glints in his eyes. “How did you know I was alone?”
Damn. Busted.
I tuck some of my hair behind my ear as I lower my gaze. He’s been pretty straightforward and told me he doesn’t like games, so I give in and admit the truth. “Before the play started, I peeked through the curtains and noticed you in the front row.”
When he lets out a deep chuckle, I experience such a strong pull of attraction it feels like it’s going to overwhelm me.
“Glad to hear you noticed me.”
Feeling rattled, I walk a little faster. “Oh, hush. You know every woman was looking at you.”
Rodian grabs hold of my arm, right above my elbow, then his hand slides down until he reaches my wrist.
My steps slow down, and as I stare at where he’s touching me, his fingers wrap around mine. A kaleidoscope of butterflies takes flight, wreaking havoc in my stomach.
“Is this okay?” He asks.
It’s the first time a man has held my hand, and I’m so overwhelmed by him that I can only nod.
When I begin walking again, Rodian tugs me to a stop and lifts his other hand to my face. He cups my cheek, and it makes my heart beat wildly while my breathing instantly comes faster.
“You can tell me if you’re uncomfortable.”
Staring into his blue eyes, I struggle to string enough words together to form a sentence because all I want to do is swoon and enjoy how good it feels to be touched by him.
“I’m not uncomfortable,” I finally manage, my tone soft.
The pleased smirk he gives me draws my attention to his mouth and the bristles on his jaw.
Will they feel scratchy if we kiss?
My pulse races even faster, and I place my other hand on my stomach while breaking eye contact.
“I would pay good money to know what you’re thinking right now.”
“Oh no.” I shake my head, and when I start walking, a nervous chuckle bursts over my lips. “My thoughts are priceless. You can’t afford them.”
His fingers tighten around mine, and his thumb caresses my skin. “Maybe I can earn one of your thoughts.”
“Hmm… how?”
“By taking you out for dinner.”
I chuckle again. “It’s a little late.”
“Tomorrow night.” He lifts our joined hands to check the time on his wristwatch, then corrects himself. “Tonight. At seven.”
I glance up again, and seeing he’s being serious, there’s another burst of happiness in my heart. Luckily, I always have Mondays off, and I don’t hesitate to answer, “I’d love to have dinner with you. We can meet in front of the theater.”
If anyone had told me I’d meet Rodian after the show and he would take an interest in me, I would’ve laughed in their faces.
We reach the main doors, and I reluctantly pull my hand from his so I can make sure they’re locked and the bolt is in place.
Gesturing to our left, we continue to walk, then Rodian asks, “Do you live close by?”
I nod. “It only takes me ten minutes to get home.”
“You don’t have a British accent,” he mentions.
Beginning to feel nervous because of his line of questioning, I link my hands behind my back so I don’t fidget. “I practically grew up in international boarding schools.”
I can feel his eyes on me but refuse to look up. “Here in England?”
I nod again. “The school I graduated from is one town over.”
“Did you like it?”
Shrugging, I fidget with my wristwatch before stopping myself. “It was okay.”
We stop by the side door, and I say, “The last exit is at the back of the building, so if you’d like to go, I can let you out here.”
“Are you trying to get rid of me?” he asks, making my gaze fly to his.
“No. Not at all.”
“Good.” Rodian takes over from me and checks the door before placing his hand on my lower back.
When we pass by the stage to get to the corridor, his hand moves up my back, and he places his arm around my shoulders, pulling me against his side.
The heat from his muscled body seeps into mine, and even though I love it, I can’t help but worry.
If Rodian and I continue to get to know each other, and we date over the next two weeks, how the hell am I going to explain to him that I have to go back to Russia?
“What’s wrong?” he suddenly asks, pulling me out of my thoughts.
“Nothing.” I quickly smile, and after checking the back exit, we stop in the kitchen so I can make us some coffee.
While we wait for the water to boil, I load some of the leftover pastries onto a plate so we can enjoy them with the coffee.
Rodian folds his arms over his chest, and it draws my attention to his biceps straining beneath his dress shirt. “So where is home?”
Shit.
“Right now it’s here, but who knows, that might change in the future.” I evade mentioning Russia.
Wanting to direct the conversation away from me, I say, “You have an accent.” I tilt my head. “Where’s home for you?”
“Russia.”
My eyes widen, and I gasp, “Really?”
A frown line appears between his eyebrows. “Why the surprised reaction?”
I shake my head. “No reason.” When his gaze narrows even more, I say, “I just didn’t think you were from Russia.” I keep busy adding milk to the mugs. “I assume you’re only passing through town? When are you leaving?”
“In a week.”
Well, that solves my problem, but still, it also sucks.
“If you only have a week, why are you bothering with getting to know me?”
Rodian seems to relax, and the mischievous glint returns to his eyes. “You can learn a lot about a person in a few days.”
“Yeah, but that’s all it will be. A week.”
He shakes his head. “I could kidnap you and take you home with me.”
Seeing he’s joking, I let out a short burst of laughter. “Just pull up in a white van filled with fabrics and Lindt chocolates, and I’ll willingly get into the back.”
“I’ll remember that.”
I hand him one of the mugs. After picking up the plate of pastries, I sip on my own coffee while we walk back to my workshop.
“You aren’t scared I’ll kidnap you?” Rodian asks as he takes a seat again.
“No. There are cameras all over the theater, and my co-workers know I was last seen with you.” I set the plate down and help myself to a Portuguese custard tart.
Rodian smiles at me. “I’ll have to ambush you during your walk to or from work.”
Silence falls between us while we enjoy our coffee and make quick work of the cinnamon swirls.
Not once does Rodian comment or side-eye the amount I’m eating, and it makes me fall even harder for him.
I glance at the rail of costumes, thinking I’ll come in early Tuesday morning to get them ready so they can be taken to the storage room, then I’ll talk to Charlotte about leaving.
Turning my attention back to Rodian, I find him staring at me, a relaxed expression on his face.
After a little while, I say, “You’re very comfortable with silence.”
“Only with the right person.”
Time slips away again with bursts of conversation about random topics and moments where we just look at each other.