Page 32 of Sinful Promise

I sit on the plush mattress and untie my old Converse sneakers, setting them neatly in front of the nightstand. The carpet is new and smells fresh. Wow, it’s like a mini house inside this plane, and to think it can fly. I pull back the comforter and crawl in. The pillow is the softest feather pillow I’ve ever laid my head on. The thin duvet is enough to be comforting, as sleeping without something covering my shoulders is difficult. I pull it to my chin and smile. I’m safe, warm, and fed. It feels pretty fucking good.

I have this window of time that is all mine. I’m safe for the moment, but I don’t know what awaits me in France. I wonder if Papa is looking for me. Andrian will be furious. I stood him up, and my flight will be a major embarrassment for him and my father. The wedding was small and had few attendants. Even so, the nuptials would be in the press. It’s only a matter of time before I have to answer one or both of them. Word will get out that I ran away. Maybe they will make an excuse that I was sick. At any rate, my father will have to make it right. I don’t know how unless he gets me back. For some reason, Andrian wants me.

Are there men looking for me? Roman and Alex are crafty. They converse without the need for words. Papa and my brothers talk too much to be good criminals. Quiet, broody men like Roman are the ones who make the important decisions.

I close my eyes and listen to the hum of the plane. I’ll worry about home and what awaits me there if I’m caught tomorrow.

* * *

Someone knocks on the door.I’m slow to wake up. It takes a minute for me to realize I’m not in my own bed, and then the past twenty hours come flooding back. I didn’t know traveling was so exhausting.

“I’m coming.” Quickly, I scramble from the bed and unlock the door, wearing my socks. Roman is standing in the aisle.

“Time to get in your seat, Princess,” he announces. Is it my imagination, or is there a spark in his eye? I wish Katsia were here. She would know all the social cues of dating.

The flash in his eye disappears, and he returns to the main cabin.

I grab my shoes and trot behind him. I sit down and slide a white sneaker with tiny, embroidered red hearts on my left foot, then its twin on my right. Once they are on, I tie them in the same order.

“You’ve had those a long time?” He’s eyeing my sneakers as if they are relics.

“Sure, some things are tough to let go of.” I shrug and wonder what his point is.

“I imagine it’s unusual to wear something like that on your wedding day. If I were to get married, which I’m never going to do, I would want my bride to wear heels and the most gorgeous dress with a diamond necklace and matching earrings.”

“That’s nice.” Is he for real?

“So, why sneakers?”

He’s not letting this go.

“They’re never out of fashion, are they? I thought the hearts were appropriate. I mean, getting married means you’re in love, right?”

Who am I, right now? This man can end me at any point, and I’m being evasive. I suppress a smirk, pursing my lips and running my tongue to moisten the parts inside my mouth.

“Are you in love?”

Stalemate. Shit.I don’t know what love is.I only know the feeling of puppy love, teenage hormonal stuff. We had a secret crush during school hours. A note and a smile were all it took to make me believe I’d found my prince charming. I thought we’d date, fall in love, and get married. It was the solution to all my problems, a way out of my miserable life. But my father would have none of it.

It lasted for a week before he moved on to another girl, and that’s when I learned a hard lesson: all men are the same. I won’t fall for Roman’s pretty blue eyes and perfect chin because it would make me vulnerable, and nothing good happens to me when I let someone in.

It will be difficult to seduce him when I have no clue what to do. However, Katsia was right. I need to lose my virginity so Andrian won’t want me anymore if I’m caught. I’ve heard my brothers bragging, and they both deflowered many girls before they were eighteen. Like it was a competition.

“Why do you ask?” I’m being evasive, and I know it.

He moves his hands outward, palms up. “Why not answer the question?”

“Well,” I stammer, “there are many kinds of love.”

He twists his body around and slides his strong fingers under my chin, making me look him in the eye. “Answer my question, Dasha,” he demands.

His deep baritone voice has a different tone to it, the style that means business, and I remind myself that despite all their flashy toys, these two are dangerous men who travel with weapons.

“No. I didn’t love him.”

Roman releases me and gently caresses my face with the back of his hand. I forget to breathe, choking on my saliva in my surprise. I’m such a dolt. I cover my mouth with my hand and act like I’m coughing as I recover.

Alex is speaking to Roman. I’m unsure what he’s saying because I’m gripping the arms of my chair so tightly that my fingers are numb. The plane dips, and then it skips once on the runway. The wings are lit, and I notice the rudders are up. The noise increases as the plane shudders. Fear engulfs me. My breathing is rushed. Then it’s over, and we’re moving along as if nothing happened.

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