Page 99 of Between Us

Vladik and Vladimir were sitting at the island, both scrolling through their phones. Apparently, Stepan had already found the man he'd asked for.

Vladimir—unlike the man facing him across the island—had a slimmer built, with fair skin and blond hair. He'd watched Alessandra before, when Roman had moved out for a week following their fight about Luca.

Vladik—or Vladislav—was all brawn, dark hair and tattoos. Apart from the similarity of their names, the two were nothing alike.

Both stood as soon as Roman's shadow darkened the doorway.

“All good?” he asked.

“Nothing to report,” Vladik said. “Stepan informed us about the changes.”

“I want tighter security around my wife. You’re to always stay inside the house when she’d here, unless one of you is patrolling outside. She doesn’t go out without me knowing about it and approving it.”

“You expecting more trouble?” Vladimir asked, light-gray eyes watching him closely.

“Shouldn't we?” Roman said, the question rhetorical. When a Mafia boss was targeted, more trouble was nearly guaranteed. “You can go home for now. I'll give you a call when I have to head out again.”

With both men taking their leave, Roman locked up the front door and made his way upstairs. He was considering the advantages of installing a security system when he noticed the door to their bedroom was ajar. Palming the knob, he stepped into the room, his eyes immediately falling on his wife. She slept on his side of the bed, facing the door, the duvet pulled up to her waist. Her face was illuminated by the lamp on the nightstand, and Roman thought that she looked peaceful despite the craziness of the night they'd all had.

He moved quietly, shedding his sweater as he walked into the bathroom. He discarded his jeans in the semi-darkened room and turned around to close the door behind him when his gaze caught on Alessandra's form moving in bed. She sat up, her eyebrows pulled into a small frown. Her expression smoothed as soon as she saw him.

“Hey,” she said quietly, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

“I was trying not to disturb you.”

She sighed and threw the duvet to the side before standing. “I woke up about four times in the last two hours.”

Roman reached over to switch on the light in the bathroom now that she was awake. Even though the curtains were only half drawn, very little light filtered in from outside—the forecast of a cloudy day ahead. “How's Tatyana? Did she eat?”

“A bit. She fell asleep in one of the guest bedroomssoon after we arrived.”

“Good.” He ran a hand over the light stubble on his jaw. “I need a shower.”

“I'll join you.” Barefoot, she closed the remaining distance between them and softly pressed her lips to his.

He cupped her jaw and kissed her back. “You should get back to bed.”

With a small shake of her head, she gave him a smile then grabbed the hem of her cotton nightie as she walked past him into the bathroom. Roman followed her to the shower stall, first with his eyes and eventually with his body.

Alessandra reached for Roman's body wash on the lit niche carved in the shower wall. She lathered her hands before turning to him, her movements slow as she spread the white foam all over his chest and arms. “What's wrong? I can tell something is bothering you.”

Roman looked down at her, all lithe forms and doe eyes. The hot steam and the musky scent of the wash relaxed his muscles, although the same couldn't be said about his mind. He knew he couldn't tell Alessandra the truth about Vitaly's attack—or what they assumed to be true from the little information they had.

“My father is in the hospital, and we don't know if he'll make it past today. Of course something is bothering me.”

She dropped her gaze to watch the movement of her hands on his chest, her voice soft. “It's not that.”

“I'm fine,” he said and immediately realized that his voice sounded more clipped than he'd intended.

Her fingers left his skin, and he felt the loss like a warm blanket being ripped from a cold, shivering body.

“I worry, you know.”

With a frown, Roman reached for her. “Come here.” He pulled her close, suddenly desperate to feel her again. His lips found her ear. “There's nothing for you to worry about. I promise.”

When Alessandra remained silent, his mouth drifted lower to her wet cheek and then her neck. He lingered there, his palms stroking the smooth skin on her naked sides. As he worked on making her forget his harshness, guilt crawled its way into his heart. He'd never lied to her before—hadn't needed to. But as he kissed and caressed every inch of her under the hot spray of water, he knew it was only the beginning.

As such things usually go, one lie leads to another and then many others. One can easily forget where it started and where it's going to end.

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