Page 104 of Filthy Dirty Dom

Alex instantly tensed. “No. I’m not leaving you alone.”

She looked around them and said, “Alex, I’m in a stone monastery. I’ll lock the door. I won’t open it for anyone but you, I promise. I’ll be fine. Given your past, I’m sure he’d appreciate the time alone with you. Besides, we went into the village. You must feel we’re safe here.”

He hesitated, struggling with himself before he said, “You’ll lock the door? And you won’t open it until I come back?”

She nodded.

He pulled out the gun from his holster, released the safety, and laid it on the table. “You remember what I told you on the boat back at Caris?”

Leslie nodded. “Point and shoot. But I won’t need it, Alex.”

After another moment of hesitation, he said, “I’ll only be gone a short time.”

Leslie wanted to do a little dance! Selfish Alex was still poking his head out, passing Protector Alex by one more lap. As soon as Alex left, Leslie locked the door, then sat on the bed.

Her mind circled back to the moments they'd shared in the village and what Alex had confessed to her last night.

"Mia," she murmured to herself, thinking of the woman Alex had lost. A woman he had loved enough to marry, who’d been killed by her own family because she’d chosen Alex instead of a life of organized crime.

Leslie fingered the pendant Alex bought her, wondering if Alex would ever be able to love her the same way. She yearned to be more than just a balm for his scars; she wanted to hold a permanent place in his heart. Yet even if he couldn’t love her in the same way he’d loved his wife, she would still gladly take what he offered. If she told him that, if she assured him that she wouldn’t try to replace Mia in his heart, would he be any more receptive to being with her? Fifteen minutes later, someone knocked on the door.

“It’s me, Leslie,” Alex said.

Leslie unlocked the door to see Alex cradling an artist's sketchpad and a set of pencils in his hands. She immediately thought back to Caris, and how she’d drawn with Bella and made paper dolls with Maria. She prayed once again that they were all safe.

"Thought you might like these," Alex offered, holding them out to her. Their fingers grazed as Leslie accepted the items, a shiver of electricity sparking at the touch.

"Thank you," Leslie murmured, watching him head towards the bathroom.

“I’m going to shower. After you’re done sketching, let’s talk about what you want to do for the rest of the day.”

“Alright.”

As the sound of running water filled the silence, Leslie took a moment to admire the sketchpad, the feel of fresh paper under her fingertips. Then, with a sudden burst of inspiration, she moved towards the room's small desk.

She began with just a single line, a gentle curve that would become the neckline of a dress. Her pencil glided smoothly over the paper, sketching soft drapes and sharp angles, embodying both elegance and edginess. The outfit took form under her skilled hand, a blend of rich velvets and delicate silks, a perfect juxtaposition of textures.

The outfit wasn’t as daring as the dress with leather and chains she’d drawn on Caris, yet with every bold stroke, she felt an exhilarating freedom. Slowly, the style she was going for took shape, one that was half-way between her usual designs and that of Chains and Chiffon, the fashion label she’d joked with Alex about.

Her sketches began to populate the pages of the sketchpad with dramatic capes, plunging necklines, daring splits, and a mix of materials.

She was so engrossed in her work that she barely registered the sound of the shower ceasing in the background. Unaware of Alex's return, she continued to pour her heart into her art, her sketches weaving a visual narrative of her journey with Alex this past week.

Alex stood at the entrance of the bathroom, the steam from the shower still clinging to his skin, and watched Leslie as she remained engrossed in her sketches. Her brow was furrowed in concentration, a soft smile playing on her lips as her hand moved effortlessly across the paper. Just as had been the case when he’d watched her sketch on Caris, a sense of peace radiated from her, and it was such a stark contrast to the turmoil raging within him.

As he slipped into the fresh clothes he had laid out, his mind wandered back to their conversation last night. He had spilled his heart out, speaking about Mia in a way he hadn’t with anyone. While Lee knew about her, knew she’d died, he thought she’d been killed in their Texas house by a home invader. The lie he’d told Lee, just like everything leading up to it, was part of the past he had tried to bury, a wound that would never heal. Yet, sharing it with Leslie, he had felt a semblance of relief, a lifting of a burden he’d carried for almost ten years.

It was fitting that it was Leslie who had brought forth that sense of lightness and ease.

Yet it was those very things, his wonder at feeling them, not just once but several times on this journey with Leslie, that reminded him the feelings were temporary.

That she was his only temporarily.

Would he be able to navigate the transition?

Even assuming he found a way to stay in New York without jeopardizing his friends, how was he supposed to go back to being just friends with a woman who had wormed her way into his heart? The same woman who had broken down his walls, and made him feel things he hadn’t felt in years? She had become a part of him, her presence a balm, her laughter a light in his darkest hours. Could he really stand by and just watch her live her life, find someone else, marry someone else, knowing that he wanted more? Wanted everything?

He had to do it. Because the haunting memories of Mia along with the memories of what had happened in New York and on Caris served as grim reminders of what he could bring into Leslie's life—danger, heartbreak, possibly even death. Now, a part of him wanted to retreat, to put the walls back up and distance himself from the woman who was causing this storm of emotions within him. He needed to face the painful reality of their imminent parting, for it was the only way he could prepare both himself and Leslie.

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