Page 3 of Stolen Innocence

“Kindly stop torturing yourself, little rose. I’ll order you something tastier.” He raised a hand to get a server’s attention and ordered me some kind of coffee liqueur mixed with cream over ice. I blushed, though I knew I didn’t really have a reason to.

“Thank you.” I examined the drink as it was set in front of me; it looked more like a dessert than booze.

“So, what else is on your list?”

I smiled shyly at him. “Mostly things like visiting New Orleans, learning to scuba dive, getting a doctorate.”

“In what?” He had a way of watching me while I spoke that made me feel really listened to. A lot of men, my father included, mostly seemed to just wait for me to stop speaking, sometimeseven with a bored look on their faces. At first, I had thought I must be terribly boring, and had gotten even shyer. Then I had realized that every guy who did that had later proven himself to be an asshole.

“I’m still figuring out what I’m good enough at to go all the way with,” I admitted. “I don’t even really know what all my interests are yet.”

He blinked, and his intense eyes filled with a mix of confusion, curiosity, and a touch of pity. That last one, I hated.

“I mean, I’ve figured some things out. But I’m playing catch-up on learning about a lot of things.” I was talking quickly now, embarrassed by the pity, wanting to erase it.

“It is good that you have gained the opportunity. What else of the outside world’s pleasures have you yet to sample?”

The way he put words together told me he was foreign, even if he’d mastered English better than I ever had any other language. It made him seem exotic, and even more mysterious.

I got a little desperate from him smoldering at me, and that made me bold. “Men.”

“Ah.” He nodded, a certain masculine interest in the curve of his smile. “I see. I may be of help in that department.”

My breath caught and my heart pounded in my chest.Oh boy.Okay, I could handle this. “I was kind of hoping you’d say that.”

“You know that after tonight, we’ll probably never see each other again,” he warned me gently.

My mouth went dry. That was part of the whole point, but he intrigued me so much I immediately felt a twinge of regret. Butthere was no backing out now. I didn’t want to miss my chance with him.

My gaze flicked to his left hand almost unconsciously. No ring, and no sign that he normally wore one. That was what would have stopped me, hurting someone else in the process.

“I know,” I said firmly. “I’m not looking for a husband.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “What are you looking for?”

“I want…” This was hard. I steeled myself, wondering why saying such a simple thing was somehow so difficult and embarrassing. “I want to know why so many people will risk so much just to have sex.”

He blinked, then drained the rest of his Irish coffee and set the mug aside. “You have not before?”

Now I was really blushing. “I did. I mean, not much. But so far, I just don’t see what the big deal is.”

Mild horror flickered into his expression. “I see. Well.” His smile returned slowly, almost lazily. “Again, I believe I can be of assistance there.”

I took a deep breath and let it out, then took a swallow of my drink. It tasted like a mix of coffee ice cream and having someone shove a lit match into my sinuses. I choked slightly and set it down carefully, eyes tearing up again.

“Okay,” I sighed. “It’s official. Alcohol and I do not like each other.”

He laughed softly, the intensity in his eyes gentling. But the heat between us didn’t waver. “Perhaps we should skip straight to leaving, then.”

***

His car was a dark blue old-model Mercedes with tinted windows, and he drove like he’d lived in Chicago all his life. I sat in the passenger seat, somewhere between dizzy with desire and praying I hadn’t just made a terrible mistake. He hadn’t even touched me yet, and my whole body hummed like he’d been stroking it, my nipples so tight they hurt a little.

He brought me to a hotel room far enough from home I knew I’d have to Uber back to my tiny rental. The desk clerk seemed to know him, they chatted together in Russian before Dimitri took his key card and led me up to the twentieth floor.

Inside, the bed was right next to a broad window that showed the whole glittering skyline. I walked over to admire the view as he turned the air conditioning up.

I heard the rustle of him removing his coat, and shifted my gaze to watch his reflection. He was bending down to lock something in the hotel safe underneath the table, his crisp dress shirt straining just a little across his broad back before he straightened. I bit my lip, struggling to catch my breath again.

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