Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Roman stood in the open doorway of the fridge, peering inside as if hoping that something different would magically appear. He smiled at the look of abject dismay on Irina's face. “What’s for dinner, trouble?”
She threw a look over her shoulder. “Chicken or… chicken.”
He didn’t know if she’d intentionally used the line from one of his favorite movies, but it made him smile nonetheless.
It was something he’d found himself doing more and more often in Irina’s presence.
Over the past couple of days, they’d settled into a rhythm of sorts.
Their argument the other night seemed to clear the air, and ever since then, things had been better than ever.
He still regretted what he’d said, especially now that he was getting to know her better.
There were so many facets to Irina he didn’t think he’d ever discover all of them.
He was finding new things each day that he liked about her, more things that they had in common.
It was dangerous territory, and one he’d promised himself—repeatedly—that he wouldn’t venture into.
It was getting harder and harder not to admit his attraction to her.
They spent hours together each day, almost like a real couple.
Except… not. Nothing about this was normal.
They were carrying on a temporary marriage to keep her safe—which was his number one priority.
The fact was, she was his principal—the person he’d been charged to watch over and keep from harm.
He couldn’t do that if he was constantly distracted by his feelings for her.
Even if she was interested in a fling, he wasn’t sure he was. His cousins and siblings had all settled down already, and most had kids of their own. Thirty had already come and gone two years ago, and for some reason, he figured he’d have a family of his own already.
Though he’d enjoyed his youth, he felt time pressing in on him.
He was only getting older. Rationally, he knew that a lot of men—and women, these days—were waiting longer and longer to settle down.
But each day that slipped past made him acutely aware that he was still all alone and would stay that way until he did something about it.
He’d enjoyed women’s company before, though mostly in the bedroom.
It’d been a long time since he’d really talked with one.
He and Irina had done nothing but talk for the past two days.
Somehow she’d managed to get him to sing—which he’d never done in front of another person with the exception of his mother.
His brothers had made fun of him growing up, and though he knew it was good-natured sibling rivalry, he’d never attempted to sing in public. It was strange how comfortable he was with Irina. Without even realizing it, she’d managed to get him to open up.
She’d reciprocated, telling him stories about her life in the music industry. But any time he broached the topic of her life before she moved to Miami, she shut down. He wanted to reassure her the way she’d reassured him, coax her into opening up and confiding in him.
All that aside, it didn’t matter what he wanted.
There was no way she would ever want him the way he wanted her.
She was basically a celebrity, even if it was only in the world of country music.
She had thousands of fans who adored her, evidenced by the man who’d become obsessed with her.
There were hundreds of men she worked with who would be a better match for her than he ever would.
He shook his head. When had he gone so soft? He was practically trying to find a way to fit himself into her life, and she barely even knew he existed as a man. She saw him as her bodyguard—nothing more. Or, if she did, she’d never let on.
Ever since he could remember, she’d been standoffish around him. He could only assume that meant she wasn’t attracted to him. No, she was making an effort to get along until the police caught her stalker. Then she could go home, back to her glamorous life where they would part ways. Forever.
He wasn’t sure why he hated the thought of that so much.
Probably because he’d never been one to let things unfold by themselves.
Anytime he wanted something, he went after it.
Her, though… he couldn’t do that. She was astronomically out of his league, not to mention any decisions he made with her could potentially affect his job.
He hated to walk away without knowing if there was anything between them, but it was better this way.
Irina shut the door then slouched against the counter, staring woefully out the window. “I’m so tired of the same thing. There are only so many ways you can cook chicken before it all begins to taste the same.”
“What do you want?” he asked.
Her gaze slid back to him, and he swore he could see a flicker of something in the bright blue depths.
It never ceased to amaze him how blue her eyes were.
His were blue, too, but he’d always thought of them as plain.
Kind of gray, icy, cool. But hers… he’d never seen a more vivid blue before.
Cerulean like the sky on the brightest day, they drew him in, tugged at his heart.
Finally, she gave a little sigh. “Honestly, I would kill for a steak.”
He lifted one shoulder. “So call it in.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “You’ll grill up a steak for me?”
“Sure. Why not?” Did she think he couldn’t or wouldn’t?
The corners of her mouth tipped down in a frown. “I appreciate it, but Louis would kill me.”
“He’s not here,” he reminded her. “Besides, I don’t know why you’re so caught up in what he thinks.”
“Um… Because he pays my bills?”
She looked at him like he was dumb, and he rolled his eyes. “That shouldn’t extend to determining your diet. If you were unhealthy, I could understand, but you’re perfect just the way you are.”
Her gaze dropped to her toes, but not before he watched a soft pink sweep up her neck and into her cheeks. He loved it when she blushed. It made him want to pull her close, kiss her pretty, full mouth and rosy cheeks.
He wished he knew what she was thinking. Was she merely flirting, or was there more to her reaction? It wasn’t the first time something he’d said had elicited that type of reaction, and he lived for those rare moments when he caught her open and unguarded.
Part of him wanted to ask, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t worried about the answer.
People fawned over her all the time. She got compliments from everyone, and he was certain his words sounded no different.
But those looks… he wanted those to be for him and him alone.
He wanted to be the only person to bring a blush to her cheeks.
Still, he said nothing. If she didn’t feel the same, he didn’t want to look like a jerk.
It wouldn’t be the first time he’d made a fool of himself, but this was an entirely different scenario.
She was already under stress, and he didn’t want to add to that.
He liked the way things had become between them, and he wouldn’t jeopardize it for the world.
He didn’t want to go back to the stilted, awkward conversations of weeks past.
Her words tore him from his introspection. “I’ll let you pick tonight. Whatever you want is fine with me.”
That was a lie if he’d ever heard one.
Without another word, she turned and wandered into the living room.
He watched, eyes narrowed, as she sank into the corner of the couch.
The blush from earlier had disappeared, replaced by what he thought was disappointment.
She stared out the glass doors that led to the patio, and he studied her features.
She wasn’t pouting, but she did look sad, and he’d have to be an idiot not to realize why.
Irina was like a bundle of energy, always vibrating with barely-restrained motion. He knew how hard it was for her to be still, especially in a beautiful place like this. For the past week he’d kept her locked down according to orders.
What he’d told her the other night was true—he would put her safety first, whether she liked it or not. But tomorrow would make a week that they’d been here, and when he’d spoken with Knox earlier, he told him there was no indication of anyone learning their whereabouts.
Although he didn’t use them much, he did have a couple different social media accounts, so he hopped on to check out the progress online. Irina had told them she’d planned to do a blast of posts that culminated in their engagement photo and subsequent elopement.
When Knox had dropped them at the airport, he’d taken a picture of them—from the back so his face wouldn’t be plastered all over the internet—walking into the airport on their way to their honeymoon destination.
He flipped through various photos now. Pictures of high-heeled silver shoes, a sparkly necklace and earrings, and a close-up of white satin, which he guessed was supposed to be her dress.
By the time he reached that photo, even he could have guessed what she was hinting at.
It was the next photo, though, that suspended the breath in his chest.
Vivi had somehow managed to manipulate the picture she’d taken in Irina’s living room and turn it into a masterpiece.
In the doctored photo, Irina stood next to an ornate, brightly lit Christmas tree.
He knelt in front of her, his face cleverly cropped from view.
Her left hand was encased in his, displaying the sparkling diamond as he slid it into place.
His attention was drawn to Irina’s expression. Her hand partially covered her mouth, but her eyes… Her eyes were liquid and soft, full of wonder. They seemed to sparkle with pure joy, so much so that it sent a chill through him.
Had she actually looked like that, or was this some special effect Vivi had added? He tried to draw back on the moment, but he couldn’t remember. He’d been a little off-kilter himself, just moments away from marrying a woman he’d only met two weeks earlier.