Page 40 of Twisted Fate

I can’t help but think that it’s not just that she’s been trained to defend herself. This is a woman who seems comfortable with violence, who doesn’t seem shocked by blood and carnage. She’s no sheltered mafia princess, that’s for sure.

“I’m not surprised that someone is trying to kill me,” I murmur, looking back up at her. “What I am surprised by is you, Sophia.”

“I can take care of myself. Is that so shocking?” She clicks the safety on the gun, turning to take it back to the discarded holster.

“A woman like you, in this world? Yes.” I follow her. “The kind of women I’m used to can’t defend themselves like this. Socialites, heiresses, mafia princesses—they don’t act like trained soldiers, Sophia.”

She snorts. “I’m hardly that. I’ve just had overprotective men in my life who know they can’t shadow me at all times. I’m capable. I’m sorry that’s so startling to you.” She glances back at me. “You should be glad you don’t have to worry about me all of the time.”

“I am. It’s just—” I hesitate, looking at her. It’s suddenly hard to believe that I had her pinned on the bed a moment ago, legs spread, begging for me as I licked her to an orgasm and was on the verge of making her suck my cock. The woman in front ofme is poised and in control, a far cry from the needy, pleading woman beneath me minutes ago.

There’s something about her that doesn’t add up. But I can’t figure out what it is.

“We won’t be able to get back to the resort until the morning.” Sophia fishes out a bottle of water and hands it to me to wash off my hands. “Is there a blanket or something we can toss over him? It’s bad enough we have to sleep in here with a dead body.”

I wince. I’ve done plenty of horrifying things in my life, but that sentence alone is enough to make my stomach twist in on itself. Sleeping in a tent with my wife and a dead body wasn’t on my list of experiences for tonight—or ever, really. And it definitely guarantees that we won’t be doing anything other than sleeping for the rest of the night.

I get one of the extra blankets, throwing it over the body lying in the drift of sand. Sophia watches me, her gaze keen.

“Someone sent him after you,” she says finally. “Someone knew where you would be, where you were going.”

“Yes.” I rinse off my hands, finding another blanket to dry them on. “I’ll call my father when we get back to the resort. We should probably cut the trip short?—”

“No!” She gasps it aloud, and I pause, looking at her confusedly.

“No? Sophia, I’ve had two attempts on my life here in the last twenty-four hours?—”

“I don’t want this to be how our honeymoon ends.” She stares at me helplessly, her expression pleading, and I stare back, dumbfounded.

Staying at the resort after this is foolish. I know that. We’re clearly in danger—or I am, at least. But the look on Sophia’s face makes me pause. She looks crushed at the idea of this ending ourhoneymoon. At the idea of this being how our marriage really starts.

I’m not seriously considering staying, am I?

“I have to talk to my father in the morning,” I say finally. “For now, let’s try to get some sleep. We’ll take shifts. I’ll watch for a while, so you can get some rest.”

Sophia presses her lips together as if she wants to argue, but I narrow my eyes at her. “Sophia. You need to sleep. Don’t argue with me.”

The expression on her face doesn’t change, but she nods finally, retreating back to the bed. She slides under the covers, still wearing her dress, and she reaches out to flick off the lantern next to the bed.

“Good night, Konstantin,” she says softly, and I look at her from across the tent, for the first time in my life, suddenly wishing I could spend the night next to the woman in my bed. I’ve never had a woman stay over, never slept with one all night. I’ve always left after I was done, or sent them home.

I denied Sophia and me that from the start. I’d intended to always keep it that way, even once we started trying for a child. Separate beds. Separate rooms. Sleeping separately.

But tonight, I’m suddenly overcome with the urge to crawl into bed next to her and pull her into my arms, to hold her throughout the night and be reminded that both she and I are alive and safe and well.

Which, I reflect as I watch her close her eyes and sink into sleep, is perhaps exactly the reason why it’s a good thing that tonight, I won’t be sleeping at all.

11

KONSTANTIN

Ididn’t wake Sophia up.

I stayed awake all night, until the wind finally died down and I saw the gleam of the sunrise burning against the canvas of the tent, and I let her sleep.

I needed to think, and it was as good as any time to do just that. Besides, I didn’t think I could call myself a decent husband if I made my wife keep watch over me while I slept.

It wasn’t just that, though. I can't shake the feeling that something isn't right.

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