Page 71 of Deceitful Promises

CHAPTER 31

AIDEN

Ania looks up at me from her bed, wrapped in blankets. Her freshly showered hair and tired eyes somehow give her an even more vulnerable look. I sit next to her, my hand on hers, feeling like part of me is fused to her. That’s the sort of romantic stuff I never would’ve imagined thinking when this all started.

“Turns out being able to puke on command comes in handy, huh?”

“Hmm,” I say with a smirk.

“Hmm,” she teases, though I can tell the trauma will hit her later. I can see it waiting beneath the surface, getting ready to erupt. If and when it does, I’ll be there. “I helped, didn’t I, in my own way?”

“You helped,” I say, holding her hand even tighter.

“Now what?” she asks.

“You let me watch you sleep.”

She laughs adorably, almost like she’s making a point to laugh, a big fuck-you to this fucked-up world. “No, I mean, with the Bratva and everything.”

“The police in this city don’t give a damn about Roman Kozlov. With my father’s connections, I’d be surprised if anything comes of it. If they come after me, I have contingency plans in place.”

“Alone?” she says.

I lean down, resisting the urge to kiss her passionately, resisting the urge to claim her with all the fierce fire burning through me. I can’t deny it. I can’t fight it. I can’t pretend. I can’t smirk away this desire. “We’re never going to be alone again,” I growl.

“Good,” she murmurs, her eyes beginning to close. “Because I’d become anybody if it means I get to stay with you …”

“You don’t need tobecomeanyone,” I tell her. “You’re exactly who you need to be already.”

“Just need a little more cushion, huh?”

“That’s for your health, not—” I read her smile then grin, promising myself I’ll never forget how magical this woman is. “You’re trying to drive me nuts.”

“I think I’m too late for that.” Her smile turns sleepy. “Will you stay with me?”

“Of course.”

I climb into bed beside her, not caring about tomorrow or that somebody might’ve seen me ice Roman Kozlov. I don’t care about anything except for the warmth of Ania’s body against mine, the heat of her, the closeness, and the fact she’s here: safe, alive, and mine.

Cuddling her closer to me, I cradle her as I wait for the sound of her breathing to change. The past few days replay in my head, from sneaking through those tunnels, finding her in her studio, taking her, the flight, the ballerina, the lodge, the madness. Everything has led to this perfect moment, me holding my woman in my arms, knowing nobody and nothing will ever come between us.

When sleep finally takes me, it’s unlike any sleep I remember since returning from overseas. It’s like I’m drifting into a pool of warm water, letting the current whisk me away. I wake up to the sound of Ania moaning.

I take a second to realize my hand is between her legs, moving up and down. Her moans sound soft yet urgent, and she makes an insistent, keep-going noise when I stop.

“Ania?” I whisper.

“What’s wrong?”

“I was … It’s nothing.”

“No, what?”

“I was sleeping,” I tell her.

Her body stiffens next to me. “Wait, really? How long?”

“I don’t know. A few hours, I guess. What happened?”

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