Roman and I lay entwined on the couch in my living room watching TV. Some sort of action movie is on. I have no idea what the name of it is. Or if there’s a plot. Every so often, there’s an explosion, gunfire, and a car chase.
Having Roman stretched out beneath me is pure bliss.
I could stay like this forever.
That dangerous thought continues to rattle around in my brain. As much as I push it aside, it stubbornly returns to the forefront of my mind and grows stronger with each passing day.
Once the movie ends, Roman shifts under me. I’m so comfortable that I don’t want to budge. I want to find a way to stop time. Or at least slow it down. This is the most content I’ve ever felt in my life. The thought of this inner peace disappearing as quickly as it came about is painful. I don’t think I could bear for our relationship to go back to the way it was. Not after being so intimate with him. And not after opening up and giving him every little piece of myself.
I keep hoping that he’ll change his mind about our temporary arrangement. But I have no idea if that’s even a possibility. He refuses to say a word about us.
I don’t know what the future will bring, and it’s driving me insane. I agreed to accept whatever he was willing to give, but it’s a bigger challenge than I anticipated.
“Ready for bed?” he asks, skimming a palm from my knee to my hip.
What a ridiculous question.
I’m always ready for bed as far as this man is concerned. No matter how many times we make love, it’s never enough. I’m insatiable. I realize that it’s partly because what I’ve found with Roman feels precarious and could end at any moment.
I untangle my limbs from his as that thought spins around my head. Before I can stop myself, I blurt, “Why does this have to end?”
That question is like an explosion rocking both our worlds.
His eyes cloud over.
I’ve tried so hard not to bring it up. I’ve tried to let this be a meaningless fling and not push for answers, but it’s not in my nature to go along with something I don’t understand.
Separating himself from me, he sits on the edge of the cushion and runs a hand over his head. “It’s complicated, Sofia.” He glances at me with an irritated expression. “Can’t you just leave it at that?”
I want to laugh at the absurdity of his request. Now that he’s within reach, I can’t bring myself to think about the possibility of losing him.
He hasn’t admitted that he has feelings for me, but he shows me in a hundred different ways.
I feel them in the reverent way he touches me and the tender way he makes love to me. And I see them in his eyes whenever our gazes meet.
The fact that he’d rather walk away instead of fighting for a future together makes me angry.
“No, I can’t. Why won’t you tell me what’s going on?” I reach over and snag his fingers with my own. “Whatever the issue is, we can find a solution.”
Jerking away, he jumps to his feet and paces back and forth like a caged animal.
“Roman,” I plead, “tell me what’s going on.” I’ve asked this question before, but can’t help circling back to it. “Is it my family? Are you afraid they won’t approve?”
He couldn’t be more wrong on that front. My father loves him as if he were his own flesh and blood. I’ve never seen him take an interest in anyone who isn’t part of our family the way he has with Roman. You’d think my brothers would be jealous of their relationship, but they’re not. They’re relieved that Papa has found someone strong and capable to assist him. Like me, they each have their own ideas about what they want to do with their lives. And Roman makes it easier for them.
Fed up with the silent treatment, I say, “They would, you know. My father considers you family.”
A man like Roman should understand exactly what those words mean. How significant they are.
But he continues to pace as though he hasn’t heard a word I’ve said.
When he reaches the far end of the room, he swings sharply toward me. He plants his feet and stares at me through bleak eyes. “It’s not your family.”
His words make me want to tear my hair out. “Then tell me what it is. I don’t understand why you won’t let me in.” I wish he’d put me out of my misery already.
A silent war wages in his eyes.
His emotional conflict threatens to rip my heart out, but I can’t force the information from him. He needs to trust me, and right now he’s unwilling to do that.
“There are things you don’t know. Things I can’t share.” Before I can argue, he cuts me off with, “I can’t, Sofia! This is the way it needs to be. There’s nothing that can be done about it.”
A shield falls over his eyes. The battle that had raged in his gaze vanishes. “If you can’t accept that, then we need to end this right now.”
Tears sting the back of my eyes, but I hold them in. I don’t want him to see that the hope I’d had for him to open up and let me in has been replaced by heartache and sadness. I shrug as if the conversation isn’t important. “Consider the matter dropped.”
Roman’s façade drops as emotion flickers across his face. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You’re not,” I say as nonchalantly as possible, pulling my lips into a small smile. I’m lying, of course. It feels like a knife has been plunged into my heart.
He scrutinizes my face and scrubs a hand over his head. “I knew this was a mistake. Maybe it would be best for both of us to end things sooner rather than later. Neither of us can afford to get in any deeper.”
My heart spasms. It takes supreme effort to keep my expression neutral. I don’t want to lose him before I figure out what he’s keeping from me.
Until Roman took me in his arms, I didn’t realize how empty and alone I’d felt. I feel lighter, brighter, and more alive than ever before when I’m with him.
It’s as if my life has been painted in vibrant and spectacular color. The idea of going back to dull, drab browns and grays of the past makes me feel panicky.
The relationship I have with Roman feels like water leaking through my hand. No matter how hard I squeeze my fingers together, liquid continues to seep through the cracks. The realization that I can’t hold on to him if he doesn’t want me to is a bitter pill to swallow, but it’s an undeniable reality.
Instead of giving him the desperate denial poised on my tongue, I take a deep breath and slowly let it out. I calmly ask, “Is that what you want?”
His eyes close for a few seconds and open to reveal a new struggle being fought inside him. “No, it’s not. But our involvement complicates matters. I shouldn’t have allowed it to happen.”
“So you’ve mentioned,” I say dryly.
He turns toward the picture window overlooking the street. His biceps bulge when he clasps both hands behind his neck. Tension radiates off him in thick, suffocating waves. “It would be so much easier if you just walked away.”
I stand and walk over to him, looping my arms around his middle until my chest flattens against his back. “I’m not going to do that. If you want to end this, go ahead. But don’t ask me to pull the trigger. I can’t.” Closing my eyes, I lean into him.
His shoulders slump in defeat. He laughs, but there isn’t a trace of humor in it. “If I told you everything, Sofia, you would run from me and never look back.”
My mind conjures up the worst-case scenarios that would be a deal breaker for me. Roman being a stone-cold killer with no remorse. Him working for the Russians. Him being a rat who has infiltrated the Valentinis close-knit ranks.
My belly pinches with unease at the last disturbing thought. I Immediately push it aside because Roman has been nothing but loyal to my family. He’s worked for them for more than five years. My father trusts him implicitly.
But what if he did work for the enemy? Would that be enough to make me run from him? Would that be enough to kill my feelings for him?
The man who held me captive with cold steel pressed against my throat intrudes on my thoughts. The way he touched me, the threats he whispered in my ear…
I tamp down the shudder that wants to slide through me and force the memory away.
Roman can’t work for the Russians.
Because if he did…
I would have no choice but to run.