Page 33 of Dark Desires
"Honestly? Yeah, I kind of do.”
He sighs, looking both exasperated and… something else. It’s not exactly soft, but it’s not angry either. “This isn’t about you and me, Isa. This is about making sure Stephania’s safe.”
Before I can respond, there’s a little rustling from the bed. Both of us turn our heads toward Stephania, who’s finally waking up. I practically jump out of my seat, moving in close.
“Steph?” I say, trying to keep my voice steady.
She blinks, her eyes adjusting, and gives me a sleepy smile. “Hey, Isa.”
“Hey, yourself.” I smile, smoothing her hair back. “Took you long enough to join us.”
She chuckles softly, wincing a little, but then looks past me to Alexei. He steps forward, giving her a soft, concerned look that seems way too genuine for my liking. Then he leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple.
“Morning, Stephania,” he says. “You doing okay?”
She purses her lips. “I… I don’t know. My head still kind of hurts. I barely remember what happened.”
Alexei takes her hand. “We don’t need to go over that now. The important thing is that you’re going to be fine.”
She rubs her forehead. “Doesn’t feel like it. Feels like I got hit by a truck. I’m glad you’re here, Isa.”
At this, Alexei straightens up. “I’ll let you both have a little privacy. But I need to tell the doctors that you’re up. So, don’t get too comfortable before they flock in here.”
Stephania nods, giving him a perfunctory smile. “Thank you, Alexei.”
He looks at me briefly, his expression impossible to read, then turns and heads for the door. As he leaves, I’m left with a weird, heavy feeling—like there’s so much I didn’t say, and probably too much I did.
When the door closes, I feel Stephania squeeze my hand again. I look down, and she’s watching me, her expression one of weariness.
“Tell me what happened,” she said. “I need to know.”
“What do you remember?”
She closes her eyes and focuses. “We were at the party, and then there were men in masks, with guns. And… that’s it.”
I let out a dry laugh. “That’s about all of it. People were running, trying to get away, and someone bumped into you. You fell backward and hit your head on the brass railing on the bar.”
She purses her lips and looks away. “Is everyone else OK?”
“No,” I say with a shake of my head. “We lost a couple of guards. The Ivanovs lost people, too. But they eliminated the threat.”
Steph takes a moment, letting it all settle in her head. Then her gaze goes to my arm.
“And you! What happened?”
“Oh, this is nothing. Just a little bullet wound.”
The color drains out of her face. “A what?”
“It sounds worse than it is—just a flesh wound. More like a scratch than anything else. I got lucky. And your fiancé saved my life.”
“He did?”
“Yep.”
“And your dad?”
“Dad’s fine. Worried like hell about you, more than I’ve ever seen him worry, to be honest. But he’s fine.”
