Page 37 of Deceptive Vows
True. Marco was not just playing with physical fire. Pasha wanted to take revenge the moment I told him. It wasn’t easy to convince him to stick to the plan. “I need to thank you for not taking offense that I took the call with him.”
“Your first responsibility is to him. I’m not so naïve that I don’t understand that.”
“Da, but most women would have been upset that I took that call during a crisis. You continue to surprise me,” I said softly.
She shrugged and faced the window again, but I caught the slight upturn of her lips. “I understand hierarchies and who answers to whom. Her gaze remained fixed on the city below. “Besides, I figured you were telling him about the fire. You’re friends. He’d want to know if someone tried to kill you.”
“It was the focus for most of the conversation.” I didn’t elaborate, confident she would understand that this delicate dance between truth and necessary secrets was becoming familiar to us both.
“So, your reaction to the fire. Did Marco buy it?”
My affection for her grew rapidly. I was impressed by her ability to read a situation and how she held herself. Meeting her had to be more than luck. As much as I wanted to deny it, fate seemed to have intervened on my behalf and gifted me a woman I could have only wished for.
“He seemed satisfied.” I gave a slight shrug. “Though I might have shown more anger than he expected.”
She looked at me. “Because he set the fire while you were in the house?”
I locked eyes with her. “Because he put you in danger.” The words came out more intensely than I’d intended, but I didn’t try to soften them.
Her breath caught slightly, but she maintained eye contact. “You know, that’s the kind of reaction that could make it hard to remember this is all pretend.” Teasing coated the words.
Straightening, I took a small step closer. “Just because it started as pretend doesn’t mean it can’t move beyond that.”
She blinked. “What?”
I stepped closer, lowering my voice. "I meant it. Maybe this thing between us isn't just strategy."
Her breath caught.
I slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her flush against me. "I want you. All of you."
Her eyes met mine—full of hope and doubt. And then she dropped her gaze. "I… still smell like smoke."
"I don't care."
Her lips parted in surprise, her eyes wide.
Why did that only deepen my desire for her? “Most men are afraid of you, aren’t they?” My eyes roamed her face, memorizing the lines and curves.
“Well…” She smiled and relaxed against me. “Iamvery good with knives.”
I chuckled. “I'd say that's a reason to be afraid." I leaned in, my voice low. "It's also the reason I haven't left."
She tilted her head. “And yet, you seem remarkably unafraid.”
“Nyet, my Dark Angel. Perhaps I should be afraid. Anyone with sense would be.” As I spoke, I brought my lips closer to hers, keeping my eyes locked with hers. "But if you wanted to kill me… I'd go gladly. At least it would be by your hand."
I caught the slight swipe of her tongue across her bottom lip. “Oh.” As she whispered thewords, her hand came to my chest, and she toyed with the button on my shirt. “Do you always lavish women with such sweet nothings?”
A low growl rumbled in my chest. “Nyet. There’s never been a woman as intoxicating as you commanding my attention. You walked out of my dreams, and I’m still slightly in awe that you’re real.”
Something shifted in her eyes, and she stiffened. “Nazar, I’m… I’m broken.” The last word seemed to catch in her throat. “I’ll never be able to love you the way you want or deserve.”
I brushed my thumb across her cheek. “Nyet. I don’t see broken. I see a woman who fought and survived. You’re perfect.”
“No one is perfect.”
Taking her hand, I pressed my lips to the back of it. “Perfect for me.”
