Page 49 of Heritage of Fire

The ride back to the airport sucks.

It’s early the next morning, and Igor, as always, is quietly brooding in the driver’s seat, while Nik moans against the window with his jacket over his face. He undoubtedly drank too much. Luka is seated next to me, on the phone with Kate, and has been for most of the ride.

The sour taste of bitterness churns my stomach. It’s clear Nik has a double standard. His charming personality has a habit of coming out around members of the opposite sex—frequently. But what happens whenImeet and talk with another man?Thenhe pays attention. I don’t know what I thought would happen in this marriage; maybe I had too much hope.

I don’t expect him to fall in love with me—to evenwantme. But I had hoped we could experience life together. That perhaps I’d find something to contribute besides my title of wife—I could be a friend, a companion, someone to ease his burdens. Then maybe, just maybe, that connection might grow.

We pass through Moscow, the city that ignited something within me. Traveling wasn’t something I ever thought about doing, probably because I had no reference for what it could be like. But if I learned anything this trip, it’s that I want to travel.To explore and experience other cultures firsthand. To leave my sheltered past behind and embrace my newly found freedom.

But I don’t want to do it alone.

Seeing Luka, Nik, and Igor’s enthusiasm for their country—laughing, enjoying the food, and going out together. It’s more fun when you get to experience that with others.

“Agh, I don’t want to get on a plane right now,” Nik groans.

Luka, who has since ended his call, rolls his eyes, and Igor swings us onto the tarmac where our private jet awaits.

After exiting the car, I open the trunk and reach for my bag. An arm bats mine out of the way, and Nik fumbles for my luggage.

“I could’ve gotten it,” I snap. He smiles at me, that one-sided dimple causing me to waver. I want to kiss it—kiss him. My eyes widen at my revelation.No.His behavior toward you … No, Luna.

I fall back, bumping into Igor as he comes around for his suitcase. “Sorry?—”

“Nikolai,” Luka barks from the top of the plane’s stairs.

“Coming, Boss.”

Nik lifts his pointer finger and twirls it around, indicating he wants me to turn around. With a sigh, I do, following Igor to the plane. Nik comes up behind me, his computer bag bumping my backside, and I’m not sure if it’s intentional or not.

When I reach the last step before stepping onto the plane, I pause and turn to watch the sun drift up above the horizon. A fresh start, a new day. Heaving in a deep breath, I shuffle through the door and find a seat.

The way Luka’s jet is laid out, two rows of two seats line the right side while a large table, with four seats surrounding it, sits on the left. There’s a bar in the back, probably stocked with a fine selection of liquor. A staff member stands there, setting outbreakfast platters of fruit and pastries. Two carafes of orange juice rest securely in their holders.

The pilot comes over the speaker to announce our departure. “Good morning, Mr. Morozov. We are preparing for takeoff and will be in the air shortly.”

I stand, my stomach growling to be fed. Last night, I didn’t get to eat much. Both women I was talking to didn’t reach for any food, and I didn’t want to be the only one eating. Plus, between their vivid descriptions of intimacy with their partners, and my keen awareness of the lack thereof in my marriage, I wasn’t very hungry.

Having had so little food and several glasses of champagne, my body is screaming for some sustenance. I move to the bar, grab a banana and a water bottle, and scan the rest of the trays. The muffins smell delicious, but my mother’s voice rings in my head.Straight to your hips, Luna.

I pass on the carbs and turn—only to collide with a solid slab of muscle. Nik must have been standing almost on top of me.

“Moonbeam.” He smiles, and I roll my eyes at him. I hate that nickname. The urge to shake him is steadily getting stronger.

“You can stop with the junior high nickname, Nik.” As soon as the words are past my lips, I snap them shut. He stares, attention flicking to my mouth. His smile slowly diminishes, and his expression softens.

“Luna …” His fingers graze the underside of my chin, lifting my face. The pads of his fingertips are rough, and the touch sets my skin ablaze. He moves his hand to the side of my face, reaching for a piece of hair that fell out of my ponytail, but I duck out of the way, avoiding him.

“We should take our seats,” I say, pushing past him.

A hand wraps around my wrist, deft fingers circling with enough pressure to cause a surge of panic. The engines pulse tolife, and the plane moves to taxi the runway. I tug at my wrist, but he doesn’t let go. He stares at me with an expression of confusion and—somethingelse.

“Nikolai, sit down.” Luka’s voice fills the cabin, and he finally lets go of my arm, jerking his chin toward my seat.

Planting myself against the plush leather, I pull my legs up to fold underneath me. Then I crack open my water and eat my banana. Afterward, with a full stomach and the lull of the plane, my eyes flutter, my body feeling the heaviness of exhaustion. Four hours of sleep wasnotenough.

Resting my forehead against the window, the cool surface soothes my heated skin. Why do I let him affect me so much? And when will this lingering sense of longing fade away?

Inwardly, I steady myself, grounding my thoughts.Be resilient. Am I attracted to him? Yes. Can I put up with the emotional whiplash anymore? No.

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