Page 36 of Crimson Tears

“A little.” She glances at the floor and then back at me. “I dreamt of the ballet anytime I saw my sister practicing dance. She would move to the music so gracefully, as if it were a part of her.”

She lets out a contented sigh. “What if I’ve built it up so much in my head that the real thing doesn’t measure up?”

“It will,” I promise her as we begin to pull up to the valet stand in front of the restaurant. One thing I loathe most about the cityis having to park my car here, so I typically only dine at places that park it for me. “I will make sure of it.”

A warm smile touches her lips as she bats her lashes at me. “I don’t deserve you,” she says.

“You’re right,” I say as I put the car in park and pinch her chin between my fingers, forcing her eyes to meet mine. “You deserve so much more,Lisichka. And I plan to give you the world if you let me.”

Her lips meet mine, soft and gentle as emotion wells in her eyes. But we don’t have time to focus on that as the valet walks around the side of my car, opening my door for me.

I hand him the key as Nessa lets herself out on her side. “I was coming to get that for you,” I say, rounding the car quickly. She could have flashed the valet with her dress, and then I would have to kill a man on our date.

She laughs. “I can’t let you do everything for me. You’re not allowed to forget who I am just because I’m in a pretty dress.”

I stomp towards her, crowding her by the door, our breaths mingling. “I could never forget a single thing about you.”

“Good answer.” Nessa leans in, placing another delicate kiss on my lips before pulling the door open.

After I give them my name, we are swiftly escorted to the private table in the back. Candles are lit and the ambiance is everything I could have hoped for. A small red box sits in the center of her plate, and she looks up at me as she sits while I push in her chair.

“I said no presents.”

I chuckle as I take my seat across from her. Nessa beams at the gift even though she is pretending to be mad. “You will need to adjust to me buying you whatever I want, whenever I want.”

She sighs but tears open the small box anyway, her breath hitching as she sees what’s inside.

“Boris,” she breathes, tears filling her eyes as she removes the necklace, a perfect gold fuchsia.

“I know this day is hard for you because it was the day you lost your sister, so I wanted to give you something that includes her, but only in good ways.”

A tear breaks loose, but she quickly wipes it away, still staring at the necklace. Nessa has opened up to me about the death of her sister and even talked to Dr. K about it last year on her birthday when we were still living in my office suite.

“How did you know?” she asks, holding it out for me to fasten around her neck. She never told me about the flower, but after she had that talk with Dr. K, she came home with a large sternum tattoo from Lev. It was a Celtic knot interlaced with fuchsias, so I took an educated guess there.

“I know you. Every single inch of you.” She shudders as my fingers gently graze her neck, placing the necklace around it. The gold matches the sequins that border the neckline, bringing the whole piece together exactly how I had envisioned.

Leaning down, I press a kiss to her neck where the necklace lays, holding her close for a minute as emotions cascade out of her.

By the time I am back in my seat, she is smiling although her eyes are still red.

“It’s perfect,” she says, reaching for my hand. I take it and squeeze.

“I am glad I guessed right.”

She lets out a quiet laugh and I point at the menu. “The duck is great, but the steak is better.”

She hums as she takes her time reading over the options. Nessa loves to try new foods and is always branching out with recipes in the kitchen with me. Alexi may have taught us the basics, but I think being in our large kitchen is one of ourfavorite things. That and the couch when we curl up to read or dootherthings.

Everything with Nessa feels so natural, like I never have to work to impress her, and in turn, she never has to hide who she is from me. We just fit. I think that’s what drew me to her in the beginning.

She had this drive and this way of not being afraid, no matter the circumstance. She claims she spent most of her life being afraid, but that’s not the woman I see now. Since meeting Evie, Nessa has become a fighter through and through.

The waiter comes back and I choose the wine when Nessa nods to me. She is the kind of woman who can have a cheap glass of cabernet and swear it is just as good as a Château Lafite-Rothschild, which is a seven thousand-dollar bottle. I decide I will order something in the middle since only one of us will be able to appreciate its depth.

When the waiter presents the wine to us, pouring us each a taste, her cheeks pinken as we both take a sip. She nods in a gesture for him to fill her glass but rolls her lips all the same. And I know exactly what my little brat is thinking.

The waiter leaves, so I ask what’s on my mind. “What do you think?”

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