“Yes.” He locks the door behind us, engaging what looks like a sophisticated security system. “No one can get in here without my permission.”
The implications of being alone with him in his private space aren’t lost on me, but I’m too shaken to care about propriety. I need to feel safe, and right now, Radmir is the only thing standing between me and whatever other threats might be lurking in the storm.
He guides me to a leather chair by the fireplace and gently pushes me down, then moves to a sidebar. I’m panicked about how to decline the alcohol but surprised when he returns with hot, sweet tea instead. I can smell its contents just by inhaling. “What is this?”
“Shock absorption,” he says with a small smile. “That’s my mother always gave me if I had a shock or accident. She said sweet tea could fix anything, so drink,” he says softly. “It’ll help with the shock.”
The tea burns my tongue, but he’s right. It helps calm my trembling hands and racing heart. He settles into the chair across from me, close enough to touch but giving me space to breathe. He holds a glass of something amber instead. Probably whiskey.
“I’m sorry you had to see that. Experience that.” His voice carries genuine regret. “This is exactly why I try to keep my business separate from?—”
“From what?”
“From people who don’t deserve to be dragged into it.”
I take another sip of the tea, rather than a gulp this time, and it’s more pleasantly warm than too hot like the first drink. “Like me?”
He meets my gaze. “Especially you.”
What he’s saying settles between us. He’s acknowledging there’s something between us worth protecting, but it’s also something that puts me—and my children—at risk simply by existing. “I should quit,” I say quietly. “I need to find another job somewhere safer.”
“Is that what you want?”
“I don’t know what I want anymore.” The admission surprises me with its honesty. “I know what I should want. I know what would be smart and safe and reasonable.”
“But?”
I break eye contact to look down at the tea in my cup. “When that man grabbed me, when I thought he might hurt me, the only person I wanted to save me was you.” The confession strips away all the pretenses. It’s an admission of trust, dependence, and feelings I’ve been trying to deny for weeks.
“Danielle.” He sets down his glass and moves to kneel in front of my chair, covering my hands with his. “I can’t promise you’ll always be safe if you stay in my world. I can’t promise there won’t be other threats, and other moments of danger.”
I nod. “I know.”
“I can promise I’ll do everything in my power to protect you. Everything.”
“Why?” The question comes out as a whisper. “Why would you do that for me?”
Instead of answering with words, he leans forward and kisses me. It’s different from our previous encounters. This time, the kiss is slower, more certain, and filled with something dangerously close to love.
I should pull away. I should remember all the reasons this is complicated and dangerous and wrong. Instead, I kiss him back with desperate hunger, pouring all my fear and relief and unwanted love into the connection between us.
When we finally break apart, we’re both breathing hard, and there’s something wild in his eyes that makes my pulse race for entirely different reasons than fear.
“I shouldn’t want this,” I whisper against his lips. “I shouldn’t want you.”
“But you do.”
“Yes.”
He breathes out harshly. “Then stop fighting it. Stop fighting me.”
He stands to pull me up with him, and I go willingly, letting him lead me toward the massive bed that dominates one side of the room. The storm outside provides a soundtrack of wind and rain, but inside this space, there’s only the two of us and the electricity sparking between us.
He turns me to face him, his hands framing my face with gentle reverence. “Are you sure? After what just happened, if you need time?—”
“I don’t need time. I need you.”
The admission breaks whatever restraint he’s been maintaining. His mouth crashes into mine, hungry and desperate, and I respond with equal ferocity. This isn’t the careful exploration of our previous encounters. This is raw need.
