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Erin notices but pulls on my sweater, pushing up the two long sleeves.

“She was seventeen—it doesn’t matter. Point is I didn’t know, but you, right now, confirmed it.” I keep my voice soft. “How long have you known?”

Erin sits on the sofa, pulling her legs up and wrapping her arms around them as she stares at the dancing flames. Then she swallows, her shoulders deflating, and I don’t think I’m going to like her answer.

If she found out at the doctor, that’s one thing, but… “Erin?”

Her gaze shifts to me, those pretty blue eyes on me, the flames turning her blonde hair gold. “Since before the kidnapping. When I was in hospital.”

I go still.

Fuck. I’m pissed. And I count to ten to stop myself from exploding. I get up and pace, eating up the space in front of the fire like I’m eradicating what we just did. I cut my eyes to her. “Didn’t you fucking trust me enough to tell me? What did you think I’d do? Throw you out? It’s enough that Imissed out on all this time with Sasha, which common sense says I should understand, and I do. To a point. But to do it again? Was that your goal? To hurt me?”

“No.”

I stop, breath slow. “Or is it you just don’t love me? Or love me enough?”

“Demyan.” Erin gets to her feet and looks up at me, eyes pleading. “Of course I do.”

“Then what?”

“Stefina.”

I stare at her. “What? Why? How? Stefina? Did she do something? Somehow work it out and threaten you?”

“No.” She lifts her chin. “No, Demyan. I love you and I trust you, I do. She didn’t do a thing; she doesn’t know. I doubt she spares me more than a passing thought. But you’re marrying another woman. You’re marrying her. And I just… what’s going to happen?”

“What’s going to happen is I’m marrying you, not Stefina.”

“Demyan, we both know there’s more to this than marriage. This is a deal. And what if this woman doesn’t want me or the baby or Sasha in your life?”

“I decide that, not her. If I married her, which I’m not going to.”

She nods but her misery rolls oof her in waves and hooks into me deep and I don’t know how to heal this. I love her. Erin.

“Surely,” she whispers, “you can understand my hesitation.”

No, I don’t fucking understand. I’m furious, hurt, and… fuck. Ilya’s words come back to me.

I need to make sure she understands how I feel.

I’m not a guy who’s soft naturally. I don’t do the support group hand-holding stuff and long-ass discussions of delicatefeelings. I’m the top of the food chain. I deal in primal. Sure, I make deals, but that’s all head and no heart and this…

This is Erin.

My Erin.

The only fucking woman who’s ever managed to turn my life inside out, and she managed that from when she rose from my bath like fucking Venus.

Back then it wasn’t love, but it was real. The connection, the need. That thing which seared us both and…

I move up to her and maybe she sees something in my eyes because she stumbles back, a mix of fear and excitement in her face as she hits the sofa and sits. I continue until I’m brushing up against her and I go down on my knees, hands on her thighs, and I look her in the eye.

“Make sure you take a good, long look,Lyubimaya.”

“At what?”

I take her chin in one hand. “Me. I want you to look me in the eye and see if what I say is what I mean. I know I don’t say things I don’t mean and you should, too.”