Page 106 of Bride By Coronation

I close my eyes, fighting emotions I despise, and then force myself to look at her.

She continues to caress my scar, announcing, "For someone who tries not to assume things, you got that one wrong."

My insides shake harder, maybe from relief but also from something else I can't decipher. I stay quiet, not trusting my voice.

She adds, "Do you remember the night I met you?"

I find my voice, carefully asking, "At the club?"

"Yes."

I nod. "Of course I do."

"How much time passed before I ran into you in the coffee shop?" she prods.

"A little over a year."

She hesitates, then says, "Ask me how many of those days in between I thought about you."

I hold my breath, unsure where she's going with this.

"Ask me," she demands.

I find a way to fill my lungs with oxygen, and inquire, "How many days?"

She doesn't hesitate, revealing, "Every single day."

Shock fills me. My heart pounds faster.

"Not a day went by that I didn't think about you, wondering who you were and if I'd ever run into you again."

Still surprised, I stay quiet.

Her voice is laced with vulnerability when she asks, "Did you think about me?"

I don't have to think. I quickly answer, "Yes. Every single day. Multiple times a day."

A soft smile plays on her lips. "Then I guess you don't hate me, and I don't hate you." She releases my face, walks into the bedroom, and looks around.

I stay frozen, trying to process what she confessed.

She unties her belt, shrugs her robe off, and tosses it on the couch. She announces, "I'm tired. I'm going to take a nap." She saunters over to the bedroom door, then turns her head, smirking at me. She asks, "Are you coming?"

17

Fiona

Kirill slides under the silk sheets, keeping an inch between us. He stares at the ceiling, his jaw twitching.

I sink deeper into the luxurious bed and then face him. I hug the pillow, breathing in his scent and studying him.

He releases an anxious breath, then carefully turns toward me. Nerves fill his expression. He asks, "Do you need anything?"

Amused, I shake my head, biting my lip.

He glances at my mouth, then meets my gaze again, prodding, "Are you a light sleeper?"

I answer, "I don't think so. Why? Are you?"

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