Chapter 12 #2
She felt Roman’s eyes on her though, burning through her, as she walked carefully towards one of the sofas and sat down.
But within minutes of her bottom connecting to the gloriously soft cushions, Roman was there, his big, bear hands moving Tia aside and glancing across Kate.
He touched her upper arms and moved her backwards, against the edge of the sofa, then oh so carefully lifted her legs, so they were outstretched on the sofa, before putting a cushion beneath the injured ankle.
His hand hovered there, though, on her bare flesh and when his eyes shifted to hers, it was impossible to think he didn’t see her.
She swallowed and found they were back in that bubble. Tia had moved away, towards the kitchen, and it was now just Kate and Roman.
“How do you feel?” he repeated, crouching down so he was at her eye height, right beside her.
“I’m okay,” she said, dropping her gaze. “Embarrassed.”
“Why?” his hand moved up her leg, higher.
She couldn’t say, though. Couldn’t admit that she felt like a fool for throwing herself at him, for having him pull her from her knees back to standing, kiss her and walk away so easily.
“Why?” he asked again, more insistently, even when his voice was little more than a whisper.
“Come on, Roman,” she said. “Don’t do this now.” And she nodded towards the kitchen, where Tia was cutting sandwiches and arranging them on plates.
“Do what?”
“Make me admit how stupid I was.”
“Stupid is not a word I would ever apply to you.”
Kate ignored the soaring sense of pleasure his compliment evoked. Focused on the tangle of her feelings instead. “I don’t know where I stand with you.”
“I’d prefer you not to stand at all,” he said, the words bursting with heat, and need.
“Because of my ankle?” she couldn’t help teasing.
He arched a brow. “Something like that.”
Kate sighed. “Roman, your sister—”
His eyes flared but he stayed silent.
“I get the feeling she’s why I’m here.”
His jaw clenched visibly.
“You’re protecting me, because…because she died?”
He closed his eyes, his nostrils flaring. “I hate how easily you see me.”
It was an admission, and she was glad. The last thing Kate wanted was for Roman to obfuscate and pretend.
“She was alone, in the end, just like you are, and I have spent years wishing someone had helped her. Just one person taking an interest, caring for her, goddamn calling me, could have saved her.” He lifted a hand and cupped Kate’s cheek. “Yes, I wanted to be that person for you.”
“I didn’t need saving,” she said sharply. “At least, not after you did actually save me.” It sounded so stupid, she rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean. Once you got me away from those guys, I could have gone back to the hostel. I’m not a victim.”
“No, you’re not,” he said. “And make no mistake about it, Kate, you’re here because I want you here.
You. Because from almost the first moment I held you in my arms I knew I needed you.
” He moved closer. “If Tia wasn’t standing in the kitchen, I’d make you mine right here on this sofa; I’d take you again and again until you could hardly breathe.
Believe me, this stopped being about saving you almost as soon as I had you here. ”
She shook her head, finding it hard to separate his words from her fears, the truth from the past. She tried to remember things he’d said, to argue with him.
“But even today, you were so protective…”
“I can’t be protective of you?”
“I don’t think it is me you’re protecting. I think it’s like…the ghost of your sister.”
He moved his body to shield her from Tia’s view, then dropped his finger lower, to her lips, tracing the line of them.
“This is not about Grace.” He padded his thumb over her lower lip.
“Saving you, yes. Knowing you deserved better than to be attacked on the street, or rotting in that hovel of a hostel, yes, sure. But keeping you here is all for me.” And then he dropped down and kissed her, never mind that Tia was in the kitchen, never mind that one kiss from him made Kate’s whole body explode with searing heat and light, that made it impossible to remember where she was and who was around.
One kiss sucked her into a vortex from which she felt as though there was no escape, there was only Roman, and a moment later, she was clinging to his shirt as though it were her sole lifeline.
Everything was a blur. Too bright, too hot, too desperately tight. Her insides were coiling and squeezing.
“Roman,” she murmured, lost on a wave of feeling.
He pulled up and stared down at her, eyes glittering. “By the end of this week, you’re going to forget your own name, Kate. And that’s just about you and me, and whatever this is between us.”
She bit down on her lower lip. “Is that a promise?”
“Fuck, yes.”
He dropped his forehead to hers then, so his breath fanned her cheek and it was just too much.
Everything about him was too much. But it was just for one week.
One week of Roman, and his intoxicating power, his strength, his command.
One week of letting herself feel that for the first time in her life, she’d met someone she wasn’t quite equal to holding at bay.
One person who’d managed to get under her skin…
but it was only temporary, which somehow made it okay.
“Okay, it’s time,” Tia said, brushing the crumbs from her fingertips. She stood and collected their plates, carried them to the kitchen. “Ready?”
“Time for what?” Kate asked.