Page 16 of Beautiful Scar

She’s been through enough.

“You can pack your things tomorrow. After that, we’re heading back to Baltimore.”

“Great. Okay.” She drifts to the second room. “I’ll sleep in here.”

“If that’s what you want.”

“And I’m locking the door.”

I smile slightly. “Dasha, if I wanted to fuck you tonight, a door wouldn’t keep me from your bed.”

Chapter 5

Dasha

I’m an absolute wreck of emotions.

Fortunately, the champagne helps me pass out. Otherwise, I’d be tossing and turning all night. I can’t remember the last time I slept in a bed that wasn’t my own. I’m up early the next morning, and I sneak into the bathroom to shower before he sees me with messy hair and no makeup. It’s only when I get out, freshly cleaned, that I realize I don’t have my armor.

No foundation to cover the scar. Nothing to darken my eyes. Nothing to make me look soft, pretty, and non-threatening.

My heart flutters in my chest.

I can’t do this. I really can’t do it.

He wants to get me pregnant.

No, hehasto get me pregnant.

Otherwise, our marriage is for nothing, and this alliance falls apart.

I slip into the hallway. My heart is racing, almost in my throat. How could Dad do this to me? How could he have thrown me into this situation without any explanation or preparation and expected it to work out?

There’s too much pressure.

The entire world is hanging on my shoulders.

“Pisik.” Tigran’s voice. I didn’t even notice him approach. I’m hunched over outside my bedroom door, freaking out so much I can barely breathe. “It’s okay, I’m here now.” His voice is soothing and low. Big, strong arms wrap around my body, and he pulls me into his lap.

My ears are ringing, and my vision is mostly white. Dimly, I’m aware that I’m having another panic attack.

“It’s okay, kitten, it’s okay,” he says soothingly, over and over, gently stroking my cheek along my scar.

Calm returns slowly. My heart rate is still elevated, and I’m sweating like crazy, but Tigran’s face comes into focus. His handsome mouth. His dark eyes.

“Fancy meeting you here again,” I mumble, my tongue feeling ten sizes too big.

He smiles. I like that smile. It makes him look a lot less terrifying. “I’ll always be around if you need me now. Did you get lost on your way from the shower?”

“Just thinking about all this.” I gesture to the sky and shiver. “It’s too much.”

“One step at a time. Focus on that.” He helps me sit up, but his hands remain on my shoulders. He stares into myface, squeezing gently. “This morning, it’s packing and saying goodbye. After that, it’s the drive down to Baltimore. One step at a time.”

“Yeah, sure, that’s super easy. I can do that.” I take a deep breath through my nose.

He smells good. Warm and spicy. I lick my lips, my stomach doing flips, my mouth trembling.

How does he make me feel this way? Both terrifying and overwhelmed, but also weirdly comforted?

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