by Bethany-Kris
As much as she wanted to ask him to come back to be with her again, she never did. The words always danced on the tip of her tongue when they spoke—threatening to blurt out every time their conversations started to come to an end, and she would have to hang up the phone.
But ...
She made a promise to herself that she wouldn’t say a thing. She didn’t want to put Roman in a situation where he felt torn between her, and what he needed to do to keep them safe. Besides, he asked for trust, and she was trying to do that. She would savour the moment she saw him again, instead.
Because she knew she would.
He wouldn’t let her down.
“That would look gorgeous on you,” Claire said, breaking Karine from her throughs when she came up to her from behind.
Not only had Karine seemed to wander a few feet away in her distraction, but she didn’t even realize she had clasped on to the buttery material of a dress hanging from the eave of a vendor’s tent. Feeling the soft fabric between her fingers, she peered up at the item that must have subconsciously caught her eye.
The bright red made her blush.
It certainly stood out.
Not at all like her.
Claire pulled it down to hold it by the hanger for them to see the dress better. The color wasn’t the only daring thing about it. With a deep, sweeping back that wouldn’t leave anything to the imagination once worn, the front plunged pretty deep, too. A dress that would only suit someone who was comfortable with their breasts free of a bra because nothing would hide the straps or hooks. The bottom flared like a skirt, but it was actually a jumpsuit, Karine discovered when she widened the bottoms.
“I’ve never worn anything like this before,” she whispered, unable to hide the shyness in her gaze. Everything about the jumper was designed to draw attention, and that had never been a priority for her.
In fact, she actively tried to do the opposite.
Her father wouldn’t have approved, and neither would Dima. Oddly, that only made her want it more.
“Well, then you have to get it. And if you need a better reason, red is Roman’s favorite color.”
Karine met the woman’s gaze. “Really?”
“From the time he was two, actually.”
“Well—”
“I’m going to take that as a yes.”
Claire had already handed the red jumper over to the vendor who quickly packed it up. The butterflies beating inside her stomach decided to make themselves known again at the idea of Roman’s eyes lighting up when he saw her in it. But the nervous sensation was quickly stamped out by the heat that followed, a thrill chasing the desire straight through her bloodstream in no time at all.
Would he like it?
How much?
She wanted to find out.
Claire paid the vendor, dangling the paper bag from the crook of her elbow when she turned to Karine again.
“Thank you,” Karine said. “You really shouldn’t have.”
“Well, we couldn’t come all the way here and buy nothing,” Claire said with a smile and a nod at the bag, “and this deserves a good home. It’ll look great on you, just you wait and see.”
“I’m not sure it’s the kind of thing I should just ... wear whenever.”
“Actually, it is. If it fits, you like it, and it’s comfortable, then why shouldn’t you wear it whenever you want? You don’t need an occasion to feel good about yourself, Karine. And sometimes that starts with liking the way you look.”
Huh.
She’d never thought of it that way.
Claire winked. “Besides, I’m sure you’ll have a reason to want to wear it soon.”
What did that mean?
“I know you don’t want me to thank you for bringing me here again, but—”
“You’re right, I don’t. It’s like we’re all suffering from cabin fever back there,” Claire added. “I needed this as much as you did.”
That was fair.
Karine grinned. “It’s not just that, but I guess what I’m really trying to say is that inviting me along made me feel like ... you actually want to be around me. Most people don’t, or they’re afraid of me. Confused by me. It’s not their fault. I’m not an easy person to understand. I know that.”
Claire sucked in a deep breath. “You don’t scare me. You don’t scare any of us, Karine. Is that strange to you?”
“Yes, it is.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. I’m just not used to people who care.”
“A shame, that,” Claire muttered. “I’m sure it’s a big change, but I guess ... at least it’s a change for the better. Even if it does feel strange.”
Yeah.
She told herself that a lot, too.
Karine opened her mouth to say something more, but it was then that someone bumped into her. It was nothing more than a quick brush of the shoulder against her back as they passed by a crowded stall close to another.
A simple mistake.
Even she knew it.
Still, Karine gasped, the swell of panic tumbling her forward, but Claire grabbed her with both hands. Once more, her racing heart was back slamming against her rib cage with every hard beat that made breathing impossible.
“You’re okay, Karine. It was just someone walking past. It’s nothing to worry about.” Claire searched her wild gaze, peering straight into Karine’s soul and trying to keep her attention with every carefully chosen assurance. Her next gulp of air was still caught painfully in her throat, refusing to push through the tight column of muscles choking her silent.
“Should we just go back to the lodge? There’s nothing more to see here anyway.”
Karine nodded frantically. “Yeah, please, if you wouldn’t mind. Let’s go back.”
Truthfully, she had lasted way longer at the farmer’s market than she actually expected to. That was a win in her book, even if it ended like it did. Not every step forward had to be a leap.
Right?
SEVENTEEN
When Roman arrived at the lodge, he couldn’t find Karine anywhere. His gut reaction was to panic—despite the fact that he knew someone would have informed him if anything had happened to her, there was no ignoring the cold trickle of fear starting to seep through his bloodstream.
No matter how irrational, it was there.
Roman had been waiting for this moment, for the second when he could lay his eyes on her again, and she’d take his breath away. Like she did the first time he saw her in the pool at the Yazov mansion. Most nights, he still went to sleep rewatching that scene in his mind.
“Roman!”
His mother’s startled exclamation greeted him instead of Karine. She’d found him standing silently in the middle of the lodge’s kitchen. He didn’t realize he’d been staring blankly out through the kitchen window until he was forced to turn away from it.
Since he left, Roman had come to realize how easy it was to lose himself in thoughts about how far they’d come together already—Karine and him.
It felt like a lifetime.
He knew that meant something.
It had to.
“Hey, Ma.”
Claire rushed his way, throwing her arms out so he could pull her in for a tight hug. “What are you doing here—does your father know you came?”
Roman didn’t want to answer that, but silence was also an answer, and it didn’t feel right, either. “I’m here because I had to see her, Ma. Where is she?”
Without warning, the pad of his mother’s thumb came up to press at the knot forming in between Roman’s brow. An almost constant wrinkle that accompanied his unhappiness lately. Only one thing had caused the discontent.
Being without Karine.
“What’s that for?” Claire asked, pulling her hand away only once the knot was worked away. “All that worry for nothing, Roman. She’s perfectly fine, out on one of her walks with Michelle.”
Roman’s teeth clicked, his jaw tightening to mask how
he breathed a sigh of relief. And still, he balanced on an edge, not quite content yet. He wouldn’t be okay until he actually saw her again. His heart had already made that quite clear.
“She sounds good—calm—on the phone when I call, but how has she really been?” he asked his mother.
“There’s progression in her everyday. It’s like she wakes up a little bit better each morning. Better with something—someone, even. She’s just ... much more confident in herself these days. Clear and levelheaded, less intimidated, too.” His mother patted his cheek with her warm palm, smiling softly. “Your mind wasn’t playing tricks on you when you called. She’s been okay.”
Roman couldn’t express the words to explain the relief he felt hearing that news, but he’d never really done well with managing his feelings before all this. He doubted that was going to change anytime soon.
All he’d wanted was for this to actually work for Karine.
This gave him hope. Most times, hope was nothing more than a useless lie, but he found himself leaning on it more often than not when it came to Karine. It’s all he ever did for her, now.
Hope that Karine had a future where she would be at peace—so she could be herself, content and happy. He was sure the lack of ever-present medications helped with her clarity, too.
“And what about ... have there been any episodes?”
He didn’t have to spell out what he meant. His mother knew exactly what he was talking about. Had Katina made an appearance—Katee, maybe?
Claire only shook her head, and that was all he needed to know.
The very fact that Katina hadn’t shown up in the time he was away felt like major progress, considering she certainly seemed to be the dominant alter with a penchant for protecting Karine from anything she deemed a threat.
Claire squeezed his hand, then, drawing his gaze back to hers. “I know everything is a bit of a mess right now, and you’re worried about her, but ...”
“What?”
“I don’t think I’ve seen you like this before ... not about someone.”
Well ...
He cocked an eyebrow at his mother, unwilling to feed into her need to pry all the secrets from his mind that she possibly could. Claire laughed a playful chirp back, but didn’t once move her stare from Roman’s all the same.
She probably didn’t need him to spill his secrets, anyway. Didn’t a mother always know?
Still, she said to him, “Just go ahead and say it. At the very least, you can say it, can’t you?”
Could he?
Or better yet, did he want to?
Roman headed for the kitchen entryway the second he was able to slip from his mother’s hold, tempted to just bolt. This wasn’t a conversation he’d had before—not with anybody; not even with himself, really. He knew exactly what his mother implied, and he wasn’t ready to say the words.
Roman already had one foot out the door, and it would have been so easy to keep going, but he paused long enough to glance over his shoulder. Claire smiled at him indulgently, shaking her head like she knew what he was running from.
“It’s just me, Roman. If you can’t even tell me—your mother—how are you ever going to tell her?”
She had a point.
“I bet that’s what scares you the most, too,” his mom added. “Just saying it. Telling her.”
“Ma—”
Claire shrugged, not even giving him the chance to speak. “Remember when you were a boy, Rome, and I’d say night, my baby, I love you.” He blinked, still able to hear the soft call of his mother echoing through the crack in his bedroom door, the sliver of light illuminating Claire’s hand wrapped around the edge of the door to close it. But she waited—she always waited for him to say it, too—and the only sleepless nights he’d had as a kid were the ones that didn’t end like that. “It was easy back then ... I lived for those little I love you, toos. The sad thing is, being a mother means I can also still remember when it started to change.”
“It’s not exactly the same, is it?”
“Maybe not, but it should be just as easy. And that was my point. To say it ... to mean it. It’s one thing you shouldn’t fear. Saying it really is the easy part. It’s everything else that makes it hard.”
His next breath still came out staggered. It ached. Surprisingly, though, the words came out easy when he said, “I am in love with her, Ma.”
Claire’s smile bloomed, her palm coming to lay flat against her chest, but she said nothing. He didn’t really need her to.
• • •
Roman was waiting for Karine at the bottom of the steps to the front porch when she walked up the hill with Michelle in tow. It took her a moment to notice him, just a second when she had to look twice and those already-round eyes of hers widened even more, and then she darted for him.
All at once.
She was a breathtaking sight against the backdrop of the lake. Karine’s wavy, dark hair flew widely all around her, her lithe petite frame coming his way faster than he’d expected, and Christ ... that long, flowy yellow dress she wore did very little to hide the shape of her small breasts.
He couldn’t seem to look away from his dream-come-true. One he hadn’t even known he wanted until he had her.
Roman couldn’t help himself, he grinned.
Like a fool.
“Hey, babe.”
“Roman.”
That was all she got out before she collided with him. He had her up off the ground and spinning around in a blink. His name passed her lips breathlessly, over and over again.
Their mouths met in a slow, burning kiss that swept Roman away to another kind of paradise. This was paradise. He never wanted to leave her again, even though he knew he would have to.
Many times.
Nothing about this life was easy. If she agreed to build one with him—and he didn’t know that she would; something else that terrified him—then that was an unfortunate lesson she was going to have to learn. Fast.
But if she could trust him in loving her enough to know they would always find their way back together, then nothing else mattered.
He just had to tell her.
Ask her ...
“I missed you,” she whispered when they parted. The kiss could have lasted a lifetime, and it wouldn’t be enough.
Karine’s lips trembled from the kiss, and his own throbbed from where she’d bitten him at the very last second before pulling away. She bit him hard—and he liked it—drawing blood that she watched him lick away with a smirk to prove to herself that he belonged to her.
It was that moment when he knew—he didn’t even need her to say it.
She loved him, too.
Then, Karine lowered her lashes, her gaze skipping away from his when she asked, “Did you miss me?”
God.
Didn’t she know?
“You’re my first and last thought every day, Karine,” he admitted. “How could I not?”
• • •
Claire cooked dinner for everyone at the lodge. She wanted to celebrate Roman returning, but honestly, he could tell she was trying to keep herself distracted from the fact that her husband wasn’t there with them.
He would have asked his father to join him on the last-minute trip to Vermont, but he knew he had to slip away from New York the first chance he got. There wasn’t time for anything else, considering. If he’d tried to have a conversation with Demyan about it, no doubt, he would have tried to stop Roman from leaving.
With good reason.
Technically, it still wasn’t completely safe for him to be there. He couldn’t be certain he wasn’t being followed; that Dima and Leonid weren’t keeping an eye on him and trying to track Karine down. He’d known it, and still took the calculated risk for the sake of his own sanity. Just to see Karine again.
He didn’t know where to properly begin that conversation with Karine, but he would have to talk to her about it. Karine had to be aware of the fact that Dima would still do everything in hi
s power to take back his bride-to-be. She wouldn’t like it, but knowledge was power at the end of the day.
She needed all she could get.
They all did.
Then, there was the other little detail he hadn’t told her yet—something else that chased him across miles of freeway that separated them until he arrived in Vermont. Her father was likely dead. Hell, he was as good as dead. It was highly likely that the Yazov bratva, as they knew it, was finished.
Leonid and Dima had already taken over.
Who else could deliver the news? Roman was going to hate every second of it, but he would still do it ... soon.
At dinner, Masha helped Claire to lay out the food buffet-style across the massive dinner table. Michelle, the appointed men on the property, Karine, and Roman all made their way around the table, finding easy conversation about everything except whatever reason had sent him there. He was grateful for it. Claire even arranged for vodka, and Masha baked apple pie that was gone before it could completely cool for dessert.
Karine and Roman stuck together, side by side where he could keep his attention where he wanted it the most. He didn’t want to let go of his hold on her waist. She kept glancing his way with silent questions in her eyes, but they hadn’t gotten a single moment to themselves.
Dinner was loud.
Unsurprisingly.
The food was great and the liquor flowed until even he started to feel a bit lighter on his feet. Not that Roman showed it—he’d been taught a long time ago to hide any sign of intoxication in the presence of others, no matter who those people were. It was a hard habit to break. That didn’t stop him from enjoying the show of everyone else getting drunk .
Even Michelle appeared to be having fun, and couldn’t stop eyeing up one of the bulls who gave her all the attention she could barely handle. His grandfather liked to say there was something about a good-looking Russian man with a glass of vodka in his hand that no woman could ignore, and Anton’s sentiment was proving right again.
