Page 25 of The Sin

I didn’t say anything, though. I didn’t want to give Roman ideas about that couch and skimpy blanket. The last thing I needed was to wake up to my first morning in The Smoke with a frozen corpse on my hands.

That wasn’t the whole story, of course. A part of me craved the comfort of him being near, near enough to touch if I reached out, near enough to catch me if I fell into a nightmare. I’d been having recurring nightmares about being chased over the bridge, and tonight I was in a strange land, in a strange home. Despite everything that had happened and odds I hadn’t seen coming, I honestly did trust Roman with my life...and my nightmares.

Warmth stole into me and my eyelids grew heavy. “Night.”

“Goodnight, Georga,” was the last thing I remember before sleep took me.

The next thing I knew, Roman was stirring me awake with a hand on my shoulder. “Coffee’s almost ready and the bread is warm.” His voice retreated. “Wake up, sleepy head.”

I lay there for another minute before the aroma of coffee tickled my nose. Pulling the comforter up with me, I rested against the wall at the head of the bed.

The temperature in the room felt almost pleasant, and I noted a fan heater whirring away on the table. It was plugged in, which meant the electrics had been switched on, which meant a hot shower—I hoped.

I turned to Roman to ask, and got ever so slightly distracted at the sight of him in black cotton trunks and nothing else. The lack of dividing walls gave me a clear view to the kitchen where he moved about, setting up a breakfast tray.

We were married, we’d shared a bed twice now, and yet I’d never seen him less than fully dressed. My gaze travelled from his messy hair all the way down to his lithe thighs. Every inch of him was tanned, lean and ripped.

My mouth went dry.

He shoved a hand through his hair to pull it back from his eyes as he half-turned a look on me, and trapped my gaze in his. I swear time stood still. My heart didn’t beat. The fan didn’t whirr. My last thought froze on how impossibly, sinfully beautiful he was and no new thoughts came to take its place.

The expresso pot hissed and he dipped his gaze to the hot plate, releasing me from that hypnotic moment. My pulse was erratic, chasing missed beats, and it didn’t help that I was instantly horrified at my insistence we share a bed last night.

Nothing had happened, obviously. I’d crashed the moment my head hit the pillow. Had he even climbed in beside me? The blanket on his side was rumpled. I flung it back and it was clear he’d slept on top of the comforter.

I didn’t know if that was better or worse.

I shook my head at myself and slipped out of bed. It wasn’t like I’d forced him into sharing the bed. I’d made a suggestion, that’s all.

A noise escaped my throat.

Roman looked at me. “Everything okay?”

“I was just wondering if there’ll be hot water for the shower.”

“There will be, but let’s have breakfast first.” He brought the tray over to the table, balancing it on the edge with one hand while he moved the heater to the floor to make space. “We should talk and I don’t have long, if I’m going to catch a ride back on the supply train.”

“Back to town?” Since Roman’s t-shirt claimed the chair, I propped myself on the couch arm that butted up against the table. “You’re going to work?”

Fortunately he put the t-shirt on before he sat down across from me. Not that I minded the view, but there was definite risk of drool.

“And I have to move the truck,” he said. “It’ll look suspicious if anyone comes across it parked in the woods for too long.”

For some weird reason, I’d assumed he’d never leave me here to my own devices. Apparently I was wrong.

Freedom loomed before me.

I restrained it. “Am I allowed to leave the apartment?”

“Could I stop you?” He gave me a wry smile, handing me a mug of coffee like a peace offering. “That’s why we need to talk. There are things you should know if you’re going to go wandering around on your own.”

I beamed a smile in return over the rim of my mug and sipped. The caffeine hit my bloodstream with a heartfelt sigh. In the light of day, The Smoke felt a whole lot less mean than it had last night. Any place that had proper coffee couldn’t be all bad.

I cast my attention on the tray. There were chunky slices of bread and small pots of butter and jam.

We helped ourselves and ate while Roman talked.

“We don’t use citizen numbers here.” He reached down to rummage through his backpack and pressed a paper thin black, plastic disc on the table. “This stores our credits. If you want to pay for anything, you just hand them this card.”

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