Page 67 of Crimson

They took out the rowboat, and once or twice went swimming in the middle of the pond, where the water was clean and clear. They read almost the whole ofAnna Karenina, sometimes Nadia reading to Nikolai, and sometimes vice versa.

They tried to make a certain kind of little pie that Nikolai’s mother used to make, and burned them terribly, and ate them anyway, laughing all the while.

And at night, Nikolai did anything and everything he desired to Nadia’s body. She allowed him to lick and touch her in places that she never imagined she’d permit. And time after time, he wrung orgasms out of her flesh that were so wild and uninhibited that she thought they might actually kill her.

The more she submitted to him, the more she felt bound to him, connected to him, enmeshed with him. They were utterly obsessed with each another, and she knew they were both dreading their return to the city, because they didn’t want to be apart for even a moment.

“I don’t want to go home,” Nadia said to Nikolai, on the last day.

“Neither do I,” he said. “You know the solution...”

“What?”

“We should get a place together.”

“In Moscow?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

“As soon as possible.”

Nadia considered. She’d told Nikolai they should have a long engagement, since they’d dated for such a ridiculously short period of time.

But why shouldn’t they move in together? Why shouldn’t they do whatever they wanted, whatever made them happiest?

“Let’s do it,” she said. “And let’s get married.”

“When?” he said.

“As soon as possible,” she laughed, imitating him.

“Really?” he said.

“Yes.”

“Tomorrow, then.”

She laughed again and kissed him.

“Not tomorrow!”

“Alright. But very soon.”

“Very soon,” she agreed.

They stowed their bags in the trunk of Nikolai’s car once more and drove back to Moscow. Nikolai was dropping her off at her grandfather’s house, and Nadia dreaded returning to that cold and miserable atmosphere, after three of the happiest days of her life.

“At least I’ll see you for the gala tomorrow,” she said to Nikolai.

Nikolai startled a little, his shoulders tensing beneath the soft white linen of his shirt.

“Oh, right,” he said. “I’d forgotten about that.”

“You still want me to come, don’t you?” she asked.

“Yes. Of course.”