Page 2 of Echoes of Sin

Something like surprise flashed in his blue eyes before he took my hand and entwined our fingers. “Come on.”

Heat suffused my body at his possessive touch, and I looked away with a shy smile.

“What is this place?” I asked when we arrived outside of a dark room with sliding doors.

Ilya flashed a heart-stopping smile. “This is my favorite room,” he said, and turned a dial on the wall.

I gasped at the sight of the library with floor-to-ceiling shelves, currently decorated for the holiday. “Stunning.” I turned to him with a wide-eyed grin. “This place is amazing, Ilya.”

“I thought you might think so. And look what I found.” He picked up a small blue book with gilded edges that sat on a table in the middle of the room. He held it out to me with a smile I couldn’t look away from. “Take it.”

I looked down and gasped at the old copy of Pride and Prejudice. I took a step back and shook my head. “I can’t borrow this, Ilya. It looks expensive.”

“You can and you will.” He shoved the book towards me. “Take it. Read it again and I will read it over the break. When I return to America, we can talk about it. Together.”

Swoon. Was there anything sexier than a guy who showed an interest in your interests? I think not, he knew I loved Jane Austen, which meant he must have been paying attention to me. “Ilya, that is so sweet.”

“Come on,” he said, and took my free hand. “The tour must go on.”

I could listen to him talk forever with his accented English and the passion in every syllable he spoke. I couldn’t stop smiling throughout the tour, and it had nothing to do with the expensive furnishings and priceless art on the wall. “Nice digs.”

He laughed. “Thank you. And that concludes our tour.”

That meant it was time for me to go back to the party. “Thanks for showing me around, Ilya, and have a Merry Christmas.” I turned away in search of an exit as humiliation burned. I thought he wanted to spend the entire party with me, but he was just being nice.

Ilya grabbed my wrist and pulled me back to him. “You can’t leave yet.”

“Why not?” the question stammered out of me.

“Because I want you to stay, for starters.” His hands rested on my hips, and I felt my nipples harden. “And…” he pointed to the ceiling.

I looked up and found a sprig of mistletoe right above us. “You planned this,” I said with a joyful smile.

“I planned to end the tour here, yes.” His honesty was so refreshing I felt my crush grow even more. “Merry Christmas, Brooke.” And then his lips were on mine, and I was breathless as he tipped my head back and cradled my face in his hands, deepening the kiss.

This was it, the moment I had hardly dare imagine would arrive, and I felt as if I would go up in flames. My heart raced wildly against my chest and my hands fisted in his expensive sweater. “Oh, I’m sorry, Ilya.” I loosened my grip and smoothed the bunched-up cashmere.

“I liked it.”

“Oh.” The word came out on a breathless whisper, and I smiled nervously. “Okay.”

He kissed me again, and fireworks exploded all over my body and I moaned into his mouth. When I slid my tongue against his, Ilya slipped one hand down to my butt.

More explosions went off inside of me, and when I pulled back, my skin was flushed, and I couldn’t breathe. “Ilya.”

He grinned. “Come.” He took me back to where the party was with his hand in mine as he spoke to the kids from college. I’d never been to any college parties before, and I was shocked to see that my classmates were drinking alcohol. I guess Lara and I had lived a sheltered life. I was sticking to my soda, but halfway through the evening Ilya produced a bottle of champagne and asked if I wanted a taste.

“I’m only eighteen,” I protested.

“In most of the world it is legal to drink at eighteen, only the Americans have their silly rules.”

I pondered this, I’m not one to bow to peer pressure, but I was curious.

Noticing my hesitation he added, “Your choice.”

I decided to throw caution to the wind, it was a night for firsts, “Okay, just a small taste.”

He poured me a glass of champagne and we toasted. “To new friends. Maybe more.”

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