CHAPTER 16
Rodian
Feeling how Anastasia is trembling and the tension coming from her, I keep holding her hands, softly brushing my thumb over her skin.
The ride is quiet as we head to where the yacht is moored for our cruise down the river, which will lead through central Moscow.
Trusting my men to be on high alert, I let my eyes drift over the beautiful woman beside me.
With none of the bruises visible and her weight returning, she almost looks the same as she did when I saw her in the workshop at the theater.
Finally getting to take her to dinner, anticipation floods my chest.
I lean over, and near her ear, I whisper, “Thank you for going out with me tonight.”
She turns her face, her eyes only meeting mine for a split second before she focuses on my shirt. The corner of her mouth lifts in a shy smile, then she admits, “This will be my first date, so if I mess up, please turn a blind eye.”
My head jerks back with surprise, and a stupid grin forms on my face. “Haven’t you dated before?”
She shakes her head and glances past me to look out the window. “No.” Her cheeks turn a light shade of pink. “You were the first man to ask me out.”
Does that mean…?
“Was I your first kiss?”
When she nods, I want to beat my chest like a caveman. Possessiveness coats every word as I say, “You’re all mine. Every one of your firsts will belong to me.”
A nervous squeak escapes her, the sound fucking cute, then her gaze lands on my face for a second before she stares down at our hands. “I don’t know how to respond to that.”
“You don’t have to.” Lifting my arm, I cup the back of her head and pull her closer so I can press a kiss to her forehead. “But try to relax a little. I want you to enjoy your first date.” To distract her, I ask, “What did you do in your workshop after I left?”
“Oh.” She lifts her face, a sparkle entering her eyes. “I moved a couple of things around and couldn’t resist getting started. Remember the dress I wore when we met?”
“How could I forget? It was fucking sexy.”
The shy smile returns to her face, and I fucking eat it up.
“I know the pattern off my heart because I really love it,” she says. “I started making one today. I think the white silk with pink roses will look pretty.”
I don’t think she realizes that she’s relaxing while talking about her passion.
“Anything you make will be a masterpiece.” I pull my fingers through her soft blond strands, loving the feel as they slide over my skin. “Just let Miss Zoya know if you need anything else.”
“Uh…” She gives me a cautious look before asking, “Would it be possible for me… to maybe, if it’s okay with you…” Panic creeps into her eyes, and I hate how difficult it is for her to ask me something.
Locking eyes with her, I keep my tone soft. “You can ask me anything, krasivaya.”
Her thumb begins to move, touching each of her fingertips, telling me she’s struggling.
With a quivering voice, she whispers, “I really loved digging through fabrics and other supplies. It was like a treasure hunt to find hidden gems. I used to do it on Mondays, because that was my only day off from work.”
Catching on, I ask, “Would you like to do the shopping yourself?”
She nods, cautiously lifting her head so she can meet my eyes. “If you don’t mind.” I notice her thumb moving faster, then she says, “I just need to get a card for my bank account.” Her teeth tug at her bottom lip as worry creases her forehead. “Ugh, I don’t have my ID card, so–”
“You do,” I interrupt her. “My men salvaged a security safe from Yelena’s country house. All your documents were in it. I should’ve mentioned it to you already.”
“Really?” she gasps. “Was there a bank card as well?”
“I’m not sure. We’ll check when we get home.
” Placing my hand against her cheek, I say, “But to answer your question, yes, you can go shopping. You’re free to do whatever you want.
All I ask is that you notify me so I can make sure the guards are ready to accompany you.
” I drink in her stunning features as she stares up at me.
“I’m not your jailer, krasivaya.” Taking hold of her hand, I press her palm to my chest, and I keep my voice low so only she will hear what I’m about to say.
“I want what we had the night we met. We clicked so well when we were just Rodian and Anastasia. Do you remember?” She nods, her attention completely focused on me.
“All I want is for you to be comfortable around me again.”
When I lean closer, pressing my forehead to hers, she doesn’t pull away, and I take it as a win. “Tonight we’re going to enjoy good food and talk the hours away until the crack of dawn.”
“Okay,” she whispers.
I stare deep into her eyes, and needing to ease my worry, I ask, “Are you still attracted to me?”
A blush spreads up her neck, and I lose her gaze as she glances down at where she’s still touching me. “Yes, but that doesn’t ensure a marriage will be successful.”
“We’re not talking about marriage right now. Don’t worry about the future. Just stay in the now with me.”
Her tongue swipes over her lips, making them glisten, and the urge to devour her almost overpowers me.
Pulling back, I notice we’re close to our destination. I look at Anastasia again. “I hope you’re hungry. I’ve arranged a feast.”
Anastasia
When we climb out of the car, I glance over all the boats, wondering which one belongs to Rodian.
He adjusts his jacket before taking hold of my hand in a firm grip, leading me toward a massive black yacht.
The mansion, Rolls-Royce, tailored suits, and now the yacht make me think he’s obscenely wealthy. Not that it matters.
I take hold of my skirt to lift it a little when we board the vessel, and while the guards keep a watchful eye on our surroundings, Rodian leads me to where a round table has been set for two beside the windows.
Soft music drifts through the cabin as the yacht begins to move. Beyond the glass, I notice we have a view of Moscow, the lights from the buildings shimmering across the water.
It’s breathtakingly romantic.
Candles flicker between arrangements of flowers, casting a warm glow over a large table that’s situated against a wall. It’s covered with baked salmon, roast beef, pirozhki, a variety of vegetables, blini topped with caviar, and enough desserts to feed an army.
Holy crap. Rodian wasn’t joking when he said he arranged a feast.
Then my eyes catch on something, and my heart squeezes painfully.
Pigs in blankets.
Beside them are platters of cheese and meats, and pastries.
Just like the food we shared that night at the theater.
My gaze slowly lifts to Rodian, and a rush of warm emotion fills me. He remembered everything from that night, as if it mattered as much to him as it did to me, telling me just how special it was for him.
He gestures at the feast. “Let’s help ourselves to food so we can enjoy the view.”
As we reach the table, he hands me a large white dinner plate. I load some of everything, and when I get to the pigs in blankets, I only take two even though I’m salivating to have more.
Rodian’s plate is brimming, and when we take our seats, I notice an ice bucket with a chilled bottle of wine surrounded by sodas.
Spotting a Coke, I help myself to one, but before I can open it, Rodian takes it from me and smirks as he says, “I still don’t want you chipping your nails.”
God.
My heart melts, and just like the first time he said that to me, I swoon.
He pours the fizzy drink into a glass for me, then picks up a pastry and sinks his teeth into it.
I forgot how hot it is when he chews.
I’m so busy staring at him that I forget to eat until he taps his finger against my plate. “Eat, moya krasavitsa.”
Doing as I’m told, I savor the pigs in blankets before enjoying the pastries.
God, I missed these so much. Pure heaven.
Just as I move on to the salmon, Rodian transfers some of his pigs in blankets and pastries to my plate, making it look like an everyday thing that couples do.
My heart clenches again as I’m reminded of how fast I fell for him. He was so observant and made me feel special.
“What else do you want to make once you’re done with the dress?” he asks.
I glance at the amazing view of Moscow as I think for a moment. “I don’t know. Maybe more clothes. It’s not like I have any costumes to design or repair.”
“Why? You can still design.”
I let out a very unladylike snort. “What would I do with costumes?”
“Show them to the theaters here. Maybe one will be interested, and you can design for them.” His expression is dead serious. “As long as work doesn’t monopolize your time, I don’t see why you can’t return to the theater.”
Gaping at him like a fish out of water, I’m too stunned to react.
Rodian reaches across the table and grips my hand. “I want you to do everything that brought you joy, Anastasia. You have a talent to design masterpieces, and it would be a crime not to share it with the world.”
I was so very wrong to judge Rodian because he killed the men at the factory.
My God, I have my very own Erik from The Phantom of the Opera.
Yes, he’s dangerous and the villain, but beneath all that power and ruthlessness is the man who once made me happy, and for the first time, I realize that part of him is still very much alive.
“Did I say something wrong?” he asks, his tone worried. “Don’t feel pressured. I just mentioned it because I remember you said you loved your work.”
“You didn’t say anything wrong.” My voice is hoarse from all the emotions he’s making me feel as I admit, “I just realized you haven’t changed.”
A frown forms on his forehead. “I don’t follow.”
“What I liked most about you was how attentive you were the night we met. You made me feel special in a way no other person ever has.” Needing to ease the dryness in my mouth, I take a sip of Coke before I continue, “After all this time, you’re still the same.”
The corner of his mouth lifts, and looking relieved, he says, “You deserve to feel special every second of every day.”