Page 73 of Bloody Lace

Dimitri frowns when he sees me, and I realize that I must look flustered. I realize, too, that the box from the pregnancy test is in the bathroom trash, and I close the door quickly behind me, a little harder than strictly necessary. “Are you okay?” he asks, and I nod.

“Still feeling a little under the weather. And tired from working on the shop. I’ll probably head back home—to the penthouse, soon.” I catch my slip of the tongue, a strange feeling washing over me as I realize how close I came to referring to the penthouse ashomeand meaning it, and I hope that Dimitri didn’t notice.

If he did, he doesn’t let on. I look around, realizing a moment later that I don’t see anyone other than the two of us here. “Where’s Gus?” I ask, and Dimitri gives me a small, cautious smile.

“I told him to make a loop outside. I thought—” He hesitates. “I thought you could show me around. I wanted to see what you’d done with the place. And I wanted it?—”

He breaks off again, as if the words are sticking in his throat. “I wanted it to be the two of us.”

I stare at him for a long moment, my chest suddenly aching. I know why he sent Gus away. I know why he’s here, just him,wanting me to show him what I’ve been working on, this place that means so much to me, that’s a piece of myself in brick and mortar.

I feel, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that it’s his way of trying to show me what he can’t make himself say yet with words. That he feels something for me. That this thing between us, that we’ve both fought so hard against, is turning into something else. Somethingmore.

It feels like a tight, constricting band is wrapped around my chest, slowly crushing me. This is everything I could have wanted—and yet, with him, I can’t help but feel that I shouldn’t have it. That I shouldn’t give in…now, more than ever, when I have a secret that I can’t share.

“Please?” Dimitri pauses. “You don’t have to, of course, if you’re too worn out. But—I’d like to see.”

I blink, wondering if I’ve heard him correctly. If the heir to the Bratva here in New York has just saidpleaseto me. And I think he did.

Something softens inside of me, that ache morphing into something different, a longing to give in to this. I’ve never had a man want to know me, never had one take an interest in something that means so much to me. The fact that Dimitri is, now, is irresistible. And I’m not strong enough to fight it off.

Not when my defenses against him are already so weak.

“Alright.” I relent, a smile spreading across my face despite the nerves quivering through my stomach. “Here. We’ll start in the entryway.” I touch his arm, guiding him towards the door, and just that small touch makes my heart leap in my chest. I feel jittery in ways I can’t entirely explain, nervous about the secret I’m keeping, wanting his approval of what I’ve done here in the boutique, confused about all of the feelings welling up in me all at once.Hormones, I tell myself, as we stand just in front of the door, but it doesn’t feel like that.

It feels real.

“I moved the consultation space out here,” I tell him, gesturing to the right side where I showed Dahlia, where the furniture has started to be moved in now. There’s a French antique sofa on one side, flanked by large greenery that echoes the shades in the striped wallpaper, the upholstery a soft pink velvet. There’s two other soft-looking pink velvet chairs, and Dimitri walks over to them, running his hands over the back.

“These are gorgeous.”

“I wanted a baroque feel. We’re putting in wood floors, and the front counter will be white quartz?—”

“Why not marble?” Dimitri interrupts, and I blink at him.

“It’s really expensive?—”

“That doesn’t matter.” He frowns, his gaze sweeping around the shop and then back to me. “You can spend as much as you want, Evelyn. There’s no limit. If you want marble, you get marble.”

“I’ll—” I swallow hard, unsure of what to say. “I’ll show you the back. Come with me.”

I can tell that Dimitri isn’t going to let the issue of the material of the front counter go so easily, but he follows me all the same. I show him the back room, the large three-way mirror that will go up front that’s still wrapped up, the dress forms that still need to be assembled. “There’s more,” I tell him, gesturing to the boxes. “Books of fabric swatches, and some vintage patterns I want to frame and put up, and books of designs. I still need to build the bookshelves. If you come out here—” I lead him back out to the main room, gesturing to the other side of the counter. “I’m going to put the shelves against that wall, there.”

I break off, realizing how long I’ve been talking. I turn towards him, expecting him to look bored, but instead, he’s looking at me as if he’s been listening intently the whole time, as if he can’t wait to hear what I say next. I’ve never seen a man lookat me that way before. I don’t know what to say. With one look, Dimitri has rendered me speechless.

He opens his mouth, as if he’s going to say something instead. And then he steps forward, closing the distance between us, and his mouth comes crashing down onto mine.

27

EVELYN

For a moment, as he kisses me, I can’t breathe.

I shouldn’t let him do this. I should stop him. I should tell him no. But his lips drag over mine, urgent and demanding, his tongue sliding over the seam of my lips, and I can’t think of how to form the words.

No one has ever kissed me like he does. I never imagined it could feel like this, never knew that kissing alone could be enough to make my body feel hot, my skin feel too tight, arousal sweeping over me in a relentless tide that threatens to drag me under. His hand tangles in my hair, and when his tongue sweeps over my lips again, my mouth opens for him.

It’s as if I can’t resist him any longer. As if this one final thing, this genuine interest he’s shown in the thing that’s most important to me in the world, has broken down the last of my defenses. For the first time in my life, I feel seen by someone other than my best friend. I feel like Dimitri wants to knowme. Like he cares about what matters to me.

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