Page 91 of Lethal Devotion
“You too?” I shake my head. "It's nothing. Don’t worry about it.”
He leans back in his chair, studying me. "You're in love with her."
The words hit me like a physical blow, and I have to grip the edge of my desk to keep from flinching. "What?"
"You heard me. You're in love with your wife, and it's scaring the shit out of you."
"That's ridiculous." But even as I say it, I know he's right. The hole in my chest, the way I can't stop thinking about her, the way the expression on her face last night made me feel like I was drowning?—
Somewhere along the way, without me noticing, Sienna Monroe became more than just a woman I was protecting. She became the only woman I ever wanted to look at again, the only woman I ever wanted to see, or touch, or… love. Something I’ve never felt before, for anyone. And last night, when I saw that love reflected back at me in her eyes, I panicked.
"The marriage was supposed to be temporary," I say finally.
"Says who?" Konstantin rolls his eyes. “If my experience is anything to go by, when a woman like that falls in love with you, you go ahead and let it happen. I struggled with how I felt for Valentina for too long, and?—”
"Says me,” I snap back. “Says the fact that she's twenty-two years old and deserves better than a man who kills people for a living."
“She’s tougher than you think,” Konstantin muses, and I shake my head.
Fuck this.It’s the same thing Valentina said, and I don’t want to hear it again—from anyone. “I don’t want her to have to be tough. I don’t want her to wonder if her husband is coming home. I don’t want her to have to think about how many people he’s killed. I’m all wrong for her, Konstantin, and if I’d known this was going to happen, I?—”
“You’d what?” Konstantin asks, and I pause. “Never have married her?”
The truth is, I’d redo it all in an instant to make sure she’s safe. I can’t regret what I’ve done, only that it’s gotten out of control. And now that I’m trying to reel it back in, I can’t seem to do anything right.
“I wouldn’t have touched her, that’s for sure,” I say quietly, and even as I do, every part of my body rebels against the thought that I might never have touched Sienna Monroe. "She could have anyone," I add, the words coming out rougher than I intended. "Anyone clean, anyone who doesn't have blood on their hands. Why would she want me?"
"Maybe you should ask her that instead of making the decision for her." Konstantin gives me a piercing look.
Before I can respond, there's a knock on my office door. One of our men sticks his head in, his expression urgent.
"Boss? We got a hit on Russo. He's leaving his safe house to the south, even though he was supposed to be staying there for a few days. Intel says he's planning to move tonight."
“Fuck,” Konstantin growls. “We’ll move out at six, Damian. We need to intercept him, or this is all going to go to shit.”
I stand up quickly, knowing I’ll need to convene the men going with us tonight, make sure everyone is well-armed, and that the plan is as crystal-clear as it can be, with the timeline moved up.
I need to focus on my job. I don’t have time to think about my marriage.
But all I can think about, as I walk out of the room, is that when this is all over, it will be too.
24
SIENNA
The memory of Damian telling me that our marriage is still temporary has rung over and over in my head every few minutes since I walked out of his room.
Just temporary.
The words still echo in my head as I sit in the library, a book open in my lap that I haven't read a single word of. Adam is napping upstairs, exhausted from a morning spent running around the estate grounds with two of the younger security guards who've taken a shine to him. He's adapted easily to this new home that we've been thrust into.
Before long, he’ll have to get used to somewhere new, all over again.
I hear footsteps in the hallway and tense, but they pass by without stopping. Not Damian, then. I've become an expert at recognizing his walk—quick, purposeful, slightly heavier than the others. The sound of a man who's always ready for a fight.
The man I fell in love with.
The admission hits me like a physical blow, even though I've been dancing around it for days, even before I tied myself up in his bed and laid myself bare to him. I'm in love with my husband. My temporaryhusband, who made it crystal clear that whatever this is between us has an expiration date.
