Page 29 of Ace of Hearts

Levi

June

Las Vegas, USA

I can’t sleep.

It’s stupid, but I can’t get Rose out of my thoughts.

She’s gone to bed, and here I am lying awake, my arm over my closed eyes, still dressed.

First the painting lesson, now the color chart.

It’s crazy, but I feel more touched than I should by these gestures.

Because they mean she thought of me. She came up with a way of helping me.

I don’t know how to take that. The very idea softens my heart, and that worries me.

I’m already too attached to her. I like her and am infuriated by her in equal measure, and she only infuriates me because I like her.

I even agreed to this Glamour interview because I thought it would interest her.

I’m weakening. But how can I not when she looks at me with those eyes? How can I resist when she smiles at me like that? When she touches me at every opportunity.

I feel like I could explode at any moment.

Because wanting to go to bed with somebody is one thing, and I know how that feels.

But this ... this is different. The things I dream of doing to her almost make me blush.

And worse, when I’m not fantasizing about tying her to my bed and ravishing her, I’m imagining taking her hand .

.. holding her in my arms all night ..

. stroking her hair and kissing her shoulder.

“What are you, crazy?” I curse to myself, sitting up on my bed.

And now I’m talking to myself.

Suddenly, there’s a knock at my door. I assume it’s Thomas, who must have returned since I came into my room.

I tell him to come in but am surprised to see Rose’s silhouette outlined in the doorway.

She looks at me, her hand on the door handle, and I try hard not to let my gaze wander over her body.

“I wanted to know what time we need to get up in the morning,” she says quietly. “I thought you would still be awake. Nightmares?”

I swallow at the sight of her short, pale nightdress and her magnificent bare thighs. I’m ready to bet she’s not wearing anything underneath. She must have just taken a shower. Fuck .

I undo another button of my shirt, feeling like I’m burning up despite the air-conditioning.

“I’d have had to be asleep to have a nightmare.”

She doesn’t say anything, just continues to lean against the doorframe. I don’t like knowing she’s there, but at the same time, it’s what I’ve been hoping for—for longer than I’d like to admit.

“What’s stopping you sleeping? The present or the past?”

I force a laugh. “Both. Sometimes I feel like there’s no difference.”

“Because you’re still living in the past,” Rose says, crossing her arms. There’s no trace of judgment in her voice.

I ask what she means. She sighs, seems to hesitate, then shrugs.

“You might not like hearing this, but I think revenge is stupid and childish. And the reason you’re here now is for revenge.”

I don’t much like the turn this conversation is taking. But I like talking things through with her too much to stop; I love the way her mind works. It’s incredibly sexy.

And I admit, I also want her to stay longer.

“But it can bring satisfaction,” I say.

“True ... but for how long?”

I don’t say anything to that.

She shakes her head. “Getting revenge doesn’t achieve anything. It only makes us more miserable, because we hang onto something instead of letting it go. We remain obsessed with a wound that we should let heal.”

That’s easy to say. I already know all that.

“What if the person deserves it? Imagine a man murders your mother,” I say as casually as I can. “Wouldn’t you want to do everything you could to find him and make him pay?”

She thinks about this very seriously. I realize that although we’re very like one another, Rose’s character is still quite different from mine.

She has fire inside her, but she never uses it against others.

She destroys herself without hurting another living thing, whereas I get the whole world involved in my quest for revenge, with no concern for the consequences.

“Yes ... but that would make me just the same as him, wouldn’t it?

” she murmurs. “And once it was done, would it bring my mother back? Would the man regret what he’d done?

His death would have been easy and quick, but I’d be condemned to a miserable life, full of suffering and guilt.

The only person who’d end up punished would be me. ”

I look at her, shaken. This is the first time I’ve ever doubted what I’m doing, and all because of a few remarks made by Rose Alfieri.

Thomas has always gone along with my desire to make Tito pay, simply because he doesn’t care.

He’s incapable of putting himself in my shoes, of imagining how I might feel, or how anybody might feel, for that matter.

He does it because I asked him to, and that’s that.

Will the result of all this be worth my efforts? The sweat and tears, the sense of guilt, putting my life on hold for several years to focus all my attention on this one man? A man who probably couldn’t care less about me.

Rose sees me thinking and adds, in a softer tone, “We think revenge will set us free. But in the end ... it puts us in a cage. I don’t want to live like that. Do you?”

I think about that as I plumb the depths of her sublime eyes. It’s like a revelation. I think about all the years I’ve wasted brooding about Tito and how to destroy him. Time I could have used to focus on myself and build something that would make me happy.

In the end, I’m the one I’ve made miserable.

But after all, perhaps that was what I always meant to do, at least unconsciously.

“What are you punishing yourself for, Rose?”

“Excellent question ... What about you, Levi?”

I laugh to myself, feeling unsettled, then sigh and rub my eyes.

Rose couldn’t be more right. I should stop while I still can.

I could lose the tournament on purpose, go back to Russia, pick up my mother when she’s released from prison, find love, and live a happy life with my past safely behind me.

Except I’m nearly at the end now. I’m almost there. If I abandon this now, it will all have been for nothing. I have no choice but to keep going.

But right now, I don’t want to think about that. I want to feel invaded by her. Nobody else.

“Rose?”

She raises one eyebrow, on her guard. I smile at her ever so slightly before getting up and slowly walking over to her. I see her stiffen as I move toward her, her eyes darkening. The words flow from my mouth before I can stop them.

“What do I have to do ... to be forgiven?”

My voice is quiet and deep. The desire I feel for her is impossible to contain. Even more so when she plays the innocent and murmurs, “For what?”

In front of her now, I look at her but don’t touch. Instead, I reach over to the door ... and close it behind her. She opens her mouth as though to take a breath, but it catches in her throat.

I lower my head, my nose grazing hers, and pretend I can’t remember, whispering, “What was it? ‘I’m going to make you crawl, grovel, and beg until you can’t beg any more’—was that what you said?”

Her chest heaves, and she trembles violently as I trace one finger, light as a feather, down her spine.

“What else?” I breathe against her ear, my own pulse accelerating. “Ah yes ... ‘And when I give in, you’ll thank me as though I were the Messiah.’ Was that it?”

My lips brush her ear innocently, imprisoning the lobe for a fraction of a second before moving down her jawline. She told me once that she’d never try anything with me again, and I thought it was for the best. I thought I was too proud to ever make the first move.

I was wrong. Thomas was right. I’m just a man, and Rose is an enchantress straight from the underworld. The forbidden fruit, so very tempting.

My blood thunders in my veins as my hand moves to the back of her neck, stroking her hair where it meets the skin, and then I pull her closer in. The desire to kiss her is stronger than anything else in me. Her gaze is indecency itself—intense, seductive, and defiant.

“Open your mouth,” I say, my lips against hers.

“You’re not begging.”

A smile escapes me as I drop a chaste kiss on her heart-shaped mouth. I promise her in a whisper, “I will soon.”

She tries to reply, but I cut her off, covering her half-open mouth with my own. I plunge my tongue inside, meeting hers wildly. She groans against my lips, the sound echoing within my chest. Her lips are warm and moist, like her skin, which is burning at the touch of my hand on her waist.

I push my hips against hers, backing her against the door with a thud. Her hands burrow into my hair as she returns my kiss with violence and passion. God, it’s good . I didn’t know kissing could be like this.

I almost want to take my time.

Almost.

I’ve already waited too long; I need to touch her now, quickly, before one of us changes our mind. I’m about to break away from our kiss when she suddenly begins to suck my tongue. I groan, my body aching with impatience. Rose pulls on my hair as I nibble her lower lip.

My mouth makes its way over her chin and along her neck, which I bite, suck, and lick with devotion. She’s sure to have a mark tomorrow, but that doesn’t seem to bother her, because she tilts her head back to give me better access, her fingers exploring under the collar of my shirt.

“If you stop again after this, I’ll kill you,” she warns me, her breathing growing more and more uneven.

Oh no, this time I’m going all the way . I’d give a lot to see the color of her cheeks right now. They must be glowing, surely. Her whole body is red-hot, to my great satisfaction.

Rose pushes my head down, making me go lower. I let her do it, more excited than ever, and groan as I kiss her stomach through the silk.

“Savor this, Rose.”

She stares at me as my hands slide over her hips, then her thighs, down to the soft skin of her calves.

“I only ever get down on my knees to pray ... but I’ll make an exception for you.”