Page 30 of Untouchable Queen
“Shh, Tatiana, breathe,” Lucian soothes, easing us both onto one of the patio chairs as he pulls me onto his lap.
He gives me just enough space to cradle my chin so he can look at my face.
“Ohtesoro,” he murmurs, the agony in his eyes growing as his thumb brushes the tears from my cheek. “What have I done?”
The question is so soft, I’m almost sure it wasn’t meant for me, and a moment later, Lucian tucks me back against his chest as he lets me cry to my heart’s content. It feels like an eternity. The fading sunlight trickles into the sea, enveloping us in deep twilight, and still he just holds me together as I release my pent-up grief.
I cry until all my tears are gone, until I feel like every drop of moisture and emotion has been wrung from my body. And the crushing exhaustion that seeps into the vacant cavity of my chest sweeps me off to sleep before I even realize I’m gone.
It’sdark when I open my eyes, and as I peel back my dry lids, they feel like sandpaper from all the tears I cried. I’m on my side, sleeping alone in a strange bed, in a room I don’t recognize. For a moment, I’m confused, almost dizzy with the lack of familiarity.Then it all comes flooding back to me—how Lucian carried me off to Italy without my permission.
I’m so frustrated with him because he makes these grand gestures that largely impact my life without seeming to consider how they might affect me. I could tell by his apology and explanation earlier tonight that he had no clue about the pain he was causing when he killed my father.
I’ve never seen Lucian regret anything before today. But the anguish on his face was so open, so vulnerable, it had to be genuine.
Good. He should feel remorse for what he’s done.He killed a good man the night he took my father’s life—well, as good a man as any of us can be in this business.And my mother?She was an angel, a woman with a bleeding heart of gold who only ever tried to put good back into the world.
Still, knowing where Lucian was coming from makes it harder to hate him so completely.
It’s difficult, hating someone who loves you—even if they hurt you. And it’s clear to me now, that Lucian does love me.
Thinking about Lucian makes his empty side of the bed feel that much more vacant. I haven’t spent the night without his arms around me since our wedding day, and I wonder where he must be at this time of the night. The bedside clock says it’s nearly two in the morning. I’ve slept like a rock since sunset and missed dinner completely.
What has my husband been doing since then?
I sit up in bed, letting the covers pool around my hips as I use the dim moonlight filtering in from our patio to search for him. Quietly, I slip out of bed, padding across the tile floor of our bedroom, and as I approach the balcony, I spot him.
He’s leaning against it, his hands gripping the wrought iron railing as he looks out at the ocean below. His expression is thoughtful, almost sad, and it makes me feel strangelyvulnerable to see him like that. I want to step outside and ask him what’s wrong, but I don’t want to lower my defenses.
Still, I’m shocked to realize I miss the comfort of his arms.
That’s what drew me out of bed, and now that I’ve found Lucian, the urge to go to him is overwhelming.
16
LUCIAN
My thoughts and emotions mirror the tumultuous sea below me, the dark waves cresting before they crash against the shore. I don’t know where to go from here. Seeing the pain I’ve caused Tatiana is almost more than I can bear. I knew that killing Boris Sokolov was the wrong move after his daughters threw everything they had at me for it. But I hadn’t realized just how horribly I’d screwed up. I thought it was posturing—proving their strength so I wouldn’t think I could swoop in and take over Manhattan when he was gone.
It makes my heart ache to realize I might have caused irreparable damage to the relationship I’d hoped Tatiana and I could have someday. It would seem I’ve finally found the impenetrable barrier that separates us, the reason she won’t let down her guard around me, and the crushing weight of the reality I’ve created is agonizing. The realization that she could never forgive me—that I’ve trapped her in a marriage she will never learn to accept is more than I can bear.
How could I have been so blind?
I was fixated on my own perception of the situation rather than realizing not everything is as it seems. What a grand master chess player I’ve turned out to be. I sacrificed my own king.
It would be too easy to consider the circumstances hopeless after Tatiana’s outburst today. The heart-wrenching tears that followed. I got a front-row seat to the devastation I’ve caused, and digging myself out of that hole feels rather impossible. But I’ve never been a quitter. And I don’t like to admit defeat.
So after Tatiana finally cried herself to sleep and I stayed awake for hours, I slipped quietly out of the villa to spend some time formulating my next plan of action. It might actually be timely that I took Tatiana away from the city—away from her responsibilities and the reminders of her father which must constantly trigger that resentment she clearly feels toward me.
Maybe over the next few days, I can show her my feelings for her are genuine and that I want to make this relationship the real deal. But I’m not so certain that it will be enough anymore. All I can do is hope.
“Couldn’t sleep?”
The sweet murmured voice sends a jolt through my chest, and my pulse quickens when I catch Tatiana’s scent of warm honey and lavender. My head snaps in her direction, and I’m surprised to find she’s standing close to me—I didn’t even hear her open the balcony door.
“No. Did I wake you?”
She shakes her head as I straighten, releasing the railing, and Tatiana’s fingers catch my palm.
