Konstantin’s body goes rigid. I look up to find him staring at me, his eyes impenetrable as ink. The gentle expression on his face is gone, leaving that façade that I can’t get behind.

“When did this happen?” he asks in a low voice.

I whisper my response, as though we might be overheard out here in the middle of nowhere. “It happened six months and nine days ago after my shift. There’s a back exit that leads into an alley behind the casino. I used to take it all the time because I can cut over to the next block and catch the bus to my house. The shortcut saves me a good ten minutes of walking around the square late at night.”

My heart starts hammering to think of that night. How quiet it was. How frightened and shocked I was.

“I was tired that day and all I wanted to do was get home so I could crawl into bed. I went out of the back exit the way I always did, but that time I heard men talking, which surprised me because I’d never seen anyone back there before. I knew they were speaking Russian since I’ve heard it at the casino. I can’t understand or speak Russian, but something about the urgent way they were going back and forth scared me. So much that I froze. It was dark, they couldn’t see me and I couldn’t see them.”

“So you didn’t see them then?” Konstantin interrupts.

“I didn’t until they moved. The man with his back to me had a gun pointed at the second man. I think there were other men there, but they did not speak. The man fell to his knees and was begging and pleading but the other man just shot him in cold blood. As he crumpled to the ground, the other man walked up to him, and pumped a few more bullets into him. It was an execution. Then he calmly turned around and walked away with the other men into the night.” I shiver again and swallow back the fear rising up from that memory, as well as the image of the dark pool spreading underneath the gunned down man.

“What happened after that?” Konstantin asks.

“I waited until I was sure they were gone then I went back in and told everybody. The police came and interviewed me. The detective in charge, a woman, asked me a lot of questions. After they took the body away,” I swallow again, “she took me outside to retrace my steps and show them exactly what happened.”

“And you did?”

“Yeah.”

“Could you help them?”

“Not really. They wanted me to identify the man with the gun and I couldn’t.”

“You didn’t see the man’s face then?”

I nod a single time. “Yes, I did. Once he killed the other man, he turned slightly and the light from one of the streetlamps shone on his face and I saw him perfectly. I looked through hundreds of mugshots but he was not in any of the photos they showed me. I still see his face in my dreams sometimes. I know I could identify him if I ever saw him on the street. I looked for him everywhere for weeks, always expecting him around every corner.”

Konstantin draws me to him, holding me more tightly than before. I can hear his heart thudding in his chest. “Oh, my poor little Raven,” he whispers in a voice that is choked with emotion. Is he upset?

“You’re the first person I’ve told besides the police and Cindy.”

He doesn’t answer, just holds me more tightly with one arm while his other hand slides up my skirt and between my legs. I draw in a sharp, surprised breath, but I don’t fight him when he pushes me onto my back.

He climbs on top of me, lips finding my neck and hands shoving my legs open. He pushes inside me, his hard cock like a spear. His shoulder muffles my gasp of pleasure.

The sex is entirely different this time, his strokes rough and urgent. The way he crushes his hot mouth to mine seems wildly desperate. Grunting and breathless we climax in a frenzy of pleasure and pain. He collapses on top of me with his full weight, flattening me on the blankets, his heart racing against my chest, both of us panting, our exhausted limbs tangled and useless. Still breathing heavily, he slides most of the way off me, keeping me pinned down beneath the leg and arm he leaves draped over my body.

I turn my head to the side to find him staring at me. The light’s so dim, I can’t see his eyes clearly, but what I can see of his face is so serious.

“You could have died that night,” he whispers.

The day is catching up to me—the drive, the sex, the constant vigilance that seems to be the cost of being around him, like the mystery of him takes a physical toll.

I kiss the tip of his nose. “Did my story upset you?”

He stares at me for another long moment before answering. “Yes, Raven. Your story upset me a lot.”

I wish I could see his eyes more clearly. It’s the only part of him that doesn’t seem capable of locking up. They are the only way into that impenetrable façade.

“We live in a horrible world,” he mutters. The fire crackles. I touch his face, tracing his strong jawline so I can feel the muscle clenched there.

“Are you referring to your brothers?” I whisper.

His eyes never waver. “Yes.”

I scoot into him. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Talking does nothing,” he says emotionlessly.

“It helped to talk to you about my sister.”

“My entire family was taken in a single day,” Konstantin says in a strange voice. Again the flat, colorless, tone of voice, the lack of inflection. Is this loss why he is the way he is? So chilly and detached?

I hold my breath, waiting for him to continue.

He says nothing.

“You have me,” I say.

He holds me more tightly. “Have I?”

“Yes. You have me, Konstantin.” I press my face into his chest, inhaling the rich, masculine smell of him. The drowsiness overtakes me slowly. I close my eyes, surrendering, and tumble headlong into dreams of dark alleys and gunfire.

* * *

I wake in the dark, disoriented, my heart racing from a dream I can’t really remember. After a moment, I recall where I am. In a castle on the moors. With Konstantin. I turn to search for him, but I’m alone. I sit up slowly, looking around. I’m in the living room in a warm cocoon of blankets and pillows before a dying fire. The orange embers are cooling slowly.

I sit and look around. I see him immediately.

He is sitting naked and cross-legged on the table. Moonlight from one of the tall windows falls on his blond hair making it glint. His shoulders are hunched, but his handsome face is illuminated by the moonlight pouring in from one of the high windows so I can perfectly see his expression.

I want to go to him, but I can’t.

I am stunned by the sorrow that surrounds him. It is so huge it fills the entire hall. This is the first time I’ve seen him without his guard up, without that charming façade he wears. My heart starts to hurt for him. Oh, Konstantin. What is it that troubles you so? Tell me. Let me in. Let me do something for you. Let me help you. I love you.

A part of me could watch him all night like this, savoring the unfamiliar sight of him so unguarded and open, but I want to comfort him if I can. I rise slowly from the blankets, not wanting to disturb him. Naked I cross the room soundlessly.

He feels my presence a few seconds before I reach him, and turns away, hiding his face from me. I lean into his back, pressing my cheek against his frozen skin. With a deep sigh, I wrap my arms around him.

“I love you, Konstantin. I know it is too soon to say it. I know it could push you away for good, but it’s the truth and I want you to know it.”

For a brief second, he tenses, his muscles solid as a rock, and then he relaxes into my embrace. The relief is palpable.

Someone loves him.

Someone loves him.