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CHAPTER 16

ANASTASIA

I can see my breath. Damn, I shouldn’t have closed the door to the bedroom.

But I had to do something to keep myself from inviting him in.

Maybe I shouldn’t stop myself.

I wonder if he’s back yet?

If he isn’t, I need to put more wood on the fire. And fuck it, I’m leaving the room open to let the heat in.

Deep snoring is radiating from the couch. I’m hit with a wall of warmth. I can’t tell if it’s the air, or if it’s his presence that makes me feel like I’m burning up.

Tiptoeing closer, I can see him lying there in the light of the flickering flames.

There’s two black shapes in the corner that startle me at first until I see that they’re some sort of bags.

Lowering the zipper on the smaller one makes me almost gasp out loud.

I’d recognize that dress anywhere. I’ve spent hours in it already.

How did he get it? I hate that it’s so beautiful, yet it is destined for Ivan.

Mikhail would be better. He’d look hot in a suit.

I kind of want to ask him.

Is he wearing his mask when he sleeps?

What the heck is up with that?

Can I sneak a peek?

My heart races and my pulse pounds in my ears as I extend a shaking hand slowly towards the swath of fabric over his nose.

He inhales, making it flex towards his mouth.

What if he’s disfigured? Scars? Birth defect?

I don’t care. I just want to know.

Gently pinching a crease, I try to move it down.

A dark line of stubble appears on the closest cheek, almost a shadow in the dim light.

But I can’t see much yet.

The further I move it, the more my pulse jackhammers in my skull.

I almost have it low enough to see his top lip, when his eyes fly open.

With a growl, he grabs my wrist and yanks my fingers away, then drags me across his broad body.

His heaving chest rises and falls with me on it.

“What the fuck are you doing, iskorka?” he growls, his nose only inches from mine.

Shit.

“Why do you have my wedding dress?” I tilt my head and try to give him the most accusatory look.

Which is difficult considering I’m sprawled over his muscles, bathed in his musky scent, and my skin feels like it’s on fire.

“Maybe I wanted to see you in it?” The edges of his eyes crinkle.

“If I put it on, will you take the mask off?” My lip rolls between my teeth.

It takes everything in me not to grind my hips against him. He’s getting hard, his cock is digs into me.

He’s so big he’s going to break me.

“It’s bad luck to see a bride in her dress before the wedding.” His chuckle bounces me against the bulge in his pants.

He makes me crazy. Giddy. Like I could jump off a cliff and fly, if I was only brave enough.

I lower my mouth between my held arms until it brushes his ear. “Marry me then.” Taking the lobe between my teeth, I bite down until he groans.

He rips me up, holding me away from him.

I can see the flush on his face and his temples clench when he grits his jaw.

Panting, he sets my feet down and backs away, shaking his head.

“You’re something else, you know that? If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re begging to be fucked.” His thick fingers run through his rumpled black hair.

“Maybe I am.” Pivoting on my heel, I aim for the bedroom. “But not now, you’ve broken the mood.” I slam the door shut and fall against it.

Damn, it’s a struggle to catch my breath.

Why does he hide himself?

The bigger question is, why did he stop himself? It’s obvious I turn him on.

What if he’s already married? Or has a girlfriend?

I fling the handle and stomp into the tiny living room.

He’s on one knee tossing a log onto the fire.

“Do you already have a wife?” I stand over him with my hands on my hips.

He doesn’t look up, but pokes the embers. “No.”

“Girlfriend?”

He shakes his head.

“Boyfriend?”

“Ana…” he grumbles. “No, no one. I’m too busy for that shit.”

“But you made time for me,” I say softly, then move closer.

His eyes reflect the flames as he stares up at me. “Yes, I did.” He finally relents.

That brings out my best smile.

I bend over and wrap my arms around his neck so my lips are near his cheek. “You’re already on one knee. How badly do you want to see me in that dress?”

He tilts his nose up to rub it along the length of my neck, breathing me in deeply with the slow stroke. “You’re putting it on in the morning. First light.” The wood in his grip creaks with how fiercely he squeezes it.

Nervous energy courses through me. “Tomorrow?” I squeak.

I let go and step back. I didn’t think he’d do it.

He nods and pushes the stove shut, then slides up onto the couch. “After that, you’re mine, iskorka.”

I can feel his eyes on me the whole way back to my room.

What did I do?

And why am I excited?