Page 41 of Devil's Vows

I stall.

And gasp. “You’ve been shot!”

He has two pale pink scars close to each other, somewhat circular in shape, below his collarbone, just above the sword’s tip of the skull tattoo. So close to his heart, just to the side.

My gaze jumps up to his as the memory of gunshots tears through my mind.

He got hurt. He could havedied.

I fist my hands as I resist reaching out for him, wanting to erase these scars from his perfect body, but what I want deep down is to wipe the mutual memory of our trauma fromhisbody, since I can’t wipe it from my own. I want to heal these imperfections on his skin as if it would heal me. Caress the pain away and dilute our harrowing experiences until memories run clear as water. “What happened?”

“It’s nothing,” he murmurs, his thumb sliding over my lip again. “Only protecting what’s mine…keeping my girls safe.”

His gentle touch vibrates with sparks down my skin, and I should step away, but I’m mesmerized. This man…he could havediedand then his girls?—

“Irisha and Katya?—”

“They weren’t here and don’t know about it. And they never will.”

Heavens. It happened here?

It isn’t a direct answer, but it hints at an answer to some ofthe questions I have: about the rooms we aren’t allowed to access, the men outside with their machine guns and guard dogs, Yuri, stoic and shadowing me the whole day, and Milana…she’s sad. Some puzzle pieces turn over, giving me patches of color to build a picture with.

“Who?” I ask, knowing I’m asking a question I have no right to ask. In this world, everything functions on a need-to-know basis, and the less you know, the better.

“Doesn’t matter,moya ptichka. It’s over now.”

“It is?”

He’s leaning deeper into me, searching my eyes, and the move is so subtle, so gentle and caring, I tilt my face up to his, letting him peer into the windows of my soul…and wanting him to see everything. Toknowme.

“You feel unsafe here?” he asks.

It hits me that I don’t feel unsafe with him at all, except I am unsafe, in a way I’ve never foreseen. With him like this, his every touch and gesture are the direct opposite of what I’ve experienced with men. I’m rooted to the spot, for the first time a hot mess with the blooming desire for a man.This man. And only this one.

The intense desire catches me off guard. Thank God every conscious and unconscious part of my mind is chained to some rules, whether God’s, the convent’s, or the church’s, and then the vows made on my behalf. Because of them, I’ll never be free, but I’ll also never act out of character.

“No, but I wanted to ask why the house…everything seems new and, I don’t know. It’s just strange.”

“It’s the aftermath. I’m looking to the future now. Securing it for my girls. I need sons, Gabriella. Sons to protect my girls. Sons to inherit the Petrov legacy and carry it on. Sons I plan to have with my wife.”

My breath catches.His wife…A wife who will step in and look after his girls. Who will be allowed to touch and heal andlove this man. A wife to share his bed and the pleasures he promises with a single caress of his thumb.

A wife who will never be me. I’m only here because it was the easiest way to get away from my brothers and secure their safety. With a wife to look after his girls, I’ll be able to leave. Ivan won’t need me. Until then, I have to bide my time. Hope sprouts in my chest, and why do I hate it? Because already, I want to stay…and have more ofthis.

I recognize this temptation as the Devil’s work, but nothing about this feels like sin…just like Chiara had said.When it’s right, it’s so beautiful, it’s Godly…and you won’t be able to stop yourself. You’ll beg for more.

His hand hasn’t moved, warm and tender against my cheek, his fingertips barely shifting, but I can’t seem to take even a single step backwards to break the magnetic connection between us, because parts of me are already begging.

In a weak attempt to do something, I close my eyes to block his intense blue gaze, to block the visual of his lips that with a slight dip of his head could graze mine. This is madness because I want him, so badly, to just brush his lips over mine, to feel what it would be like.

I want to reach out and rake my nails down the beautiful line from the base of his throat, lower to the tattooed eye that stares at me, seeing what I want, what I need, who I am at my core. I want to press my palm over it, stop it from staring at me, and at the same time feel his heartbeat…feelif he’s as affected as me.

But I can’t touch. I can look all I want, but I can’t touch this man. He is going to have a wife, and I’ve been promised to another. A vow made with the Devil himself, and only death can break it. My death orthat man’sdeath.

“Have you ever been kissed before, Gabriella?”

Ivan’s voice is soft, intruding into my scattered thoughts, luring me deeper into this trance as his hand slides lower,dipping to my neck where he can feel the racket of my pulse. His fingers still, but he doesn’t stop there. His thumb trails lower, caressing the dip at the base of my throat in a slow, torturous circle, so gentle, the lingering trace seems to swirl and curl to my breasts, making them heavy with the need for more.