Page 82 of The Den of Sin
She lifted her head from my chest and met my eyes. There were so many unspoken words between us, even more in those shimmering eyes of hers. I wanted her to talk to me, tell me all her worries and fears. I had to fix all the wrongs I had done.
Her hands framed my face, holding eye contact as she lifted on her toes to reach for my lips. She was still too short so I bent my head, like she was the last drop of water I’d ever get. I felt her soft mouth skim over my lips with a tenderness that would be my undoing.
She may have been giving me tenderness, but was it forgiveness too? My actions from all those years ago, even how I pushed Ryan out of the way, felt like a hot iron wedging itself between us, building a tall fence topped with deadly spikes.
No more secrets. Tatiana was never meant to share what had happened to Isabella, but I was glad she did. It might give me a chance to ask for her forgiveness and earn it.
“Tatiana told me about the baby.”
Her body went taut, and before she even took a step back, away from me, I sensed her invisible walls coming up. The hollow ache in my chest grew with each heartbeat. She stole my heart eight years ago, an eighteen-year-old girl with big brown eyes and a mischievous glint.
Is this your dad?Those were her first words I heard from her kissable lips.
I fought the attraction from that very day till that Halloween night, her senior year and lost. I lied to myself, justifying it was my way to get back to her mother. But if it was, I wouldn’t have waited over three years to get her into bed.
“Please talk to me, Isabella.”
She had said these same words to me before; after the very night I took her virginity. How ironic that I threw them in her face, and now I was the one begging her to talk to me.
I watched her swallow hard, her chest rising and falling the only indication she tried to keep herself together.
“I should have been there for you.” I searched out her eyes, prayed she’d see I meant it. “I was so fucking wrong. From the start.”
“Please don’t.” Her voice was barely a whisper, but it felt like a scream.
“I wanted you from the moment I laid eyes on you. Despite the fact you assumed I was Tatiana’s father. You are right; I’m too old for you. I don’t fucking care. I don’t care who your parents are, nor mine. I want us. If I wasn’t such a stubborn dick and admitted to myself you’re my end game after fantasizing about you since your freshman year, maybe I could have saved us all these years of loneliness, and our baby. And if you give us a chance, I’ll be making it up to you for the rest of our lives.”
The words poured out and with each second that she stood still, my heart shook. This wasn’t the ruthless Vasili Nikolaev, mobster of New Orleans. This was her man and whether she wanted me or not, I’d be hers. She saw this man from the moment our eyes met.
“Please, malyshka. Don’t throw us away.”
Our gazes locked, her glistening eyes drowning me. There were so many emotions in those glimmering eyes - sorrow, loneliness, regret. It was that last one that was killing me. It wasn’t looking good for me.
“The baby… it was nobody’s fault. Just wasn’t meant to be.” Her voice was feather soft. She had every right to blame me for her loss, for putting her through it, but that wasn’t Isabella.
Longing tore through me. I wanted children with her. I wantedher. But this almost felt like she was telling meweweren't meant to be.
“Maybe, but we… you and me, Isabella, we are meant to be. I want to have kids with you, be wherever you are. You are my heart. I want to see you surf, watch you teach our children to surf. Fuck, I want you to teach my old ass how to surf.” The first glimpse of a smile came to her lips and hope shone in my chest like the brightest ray of sunshine. “Please give us a chance. You told me five years ago, it wasn’t just a fuck for you. It wasn’t for me either. You were and still are everything to me.”
Goddamn it, I wanted to hear her tell me she’d give us another try. I wouldn’t be a selfish and greedy bastard and ask her to love me. Not till she was ready. But I wanted another chance.
“You might not need me, malyshka, but I need you.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Isabella
The sight of this man filled me with such heavy longing. He was here, right in front of me, offering himself, asking for a future together. The words I had long wanted to hear were spoken, but the grip on my throat refused to let any words pass my lips.
What held me back?
I loved him, there was not an ounce of doubt in my heart about it. I gave him my heart a long time ago. Five years ago, it was easier to take a risk. I was too young and naive, the pain of heartbreak unknown.
He loves me.
Would he say that if he knew who my father was? If he knew my mother, spilled secrets about his father to his enemy. Granted, she did it in her efforts to get help in finding her son, but knowing Vasili, he wouldn’t find it forgiving.
The throb in my chest grew along with my despair. Something I wanted desperately was so close, within my grasp yet unobtainable. Because of our parents' mistakes. He said he didn’t care who our parents were, but did he care what they had done?
