Page 24 of Natasha
Central Park?she asked.
Perfect.
When?she asked, already hopping out of bed and rushing toward her modest closet.
An hour? I'll bring breakfast.
Sounds great. See you soon!The exclamation point had Natasha blushing, but she hit send anyhow and even added a winky face emoji for good measure. It was no use trying to act as she had with previous men. Silas evoked new emotions in her. Cold, distant, aloof, none of that had any place in what was forming between them. Natasha's fingers tightened briefly on the hem of the sweatshirt she was wearing at the thought. She pushed down the nervousness bubbling just beneath the surface of her excitement over Silas.
"Is this what they call young love?" she murmured to herself, walking to her closet. Natasha had never been in love. There just hadn't been enough time to indulge in such a thing.
"Love is for children," her grandmother had told her during one of the rare times Natasha had felt the cruel sting of rejection as a teenager. She'd fallen for her dance partner. The whole thing was the stuff of teenage infatuation. She'd been utterly heartbroken when his affections had fallen to another dancer. Natasha had dried her tears with her grandmother's words ringing in her ears. Anytime she'd felt the beginnings of that familiar ache in her chest, Natasha had merely heeded her grandmother's warning.
"Love is for children," she mumbled to herself. Could this be the beginning of love for her? A first love? Natasha swallowed thickly and pushed the thoughts away. Love meant the potential to be hurt, a hurt that would go far beyond anything she had experienced. But Silas wouldn't hurt her.
She hadn't known him for very long. She looked at her wristwatch and almost laughed out loud when she saw that it hadn't even been a full forty-eight hours since he'd entered her world. Yet it didn't make the thought of loving or trusting Silas seem outlandish. There was something sincere about him that she hadn't seen in a very long time that drew her near, despite the warnings of her grandmother.
Natasha hummed to herself as she pulled on a sundress and sandals. It was spring now, and things had finally begun to warm up in the city despite chilly mornings. Briefly, she considered putting on makeup, but she didn't want to risk being late to meet Silas. She hurried toward the stairs, grabbed her purse and a denim jacket on her way out, and pulled her hair into a ponytail. Once she was on the street, she let out a deep breath. Now wasn't the time to think of her grandmother's macabre and depressing advice. As helpful as it had been for guarding her young heart, some things were worth the risk.
And Silas just so happened to be one of those things.
