Page 85 of Weeping Roses
It’s not just sex anymore. I suppose it never was for me, but the sheer passion and the possessive gleam in his eyes should be terrifying me right now. It’s as if he is dragging my soul screaming from my body for him to play with at will. He has ripped it from inside me and it belongs to him now. My heart bends to his, and I lay myself bare as the realization hits me like a bolt of lightning.
Somewhere, somehow and against all the odds, I have fallen madly deeply in love with this man, and it scares the shit out of me. He is like a breaking storm, a force of nature and a God who will never truly be mine. An untouchable. An enigma and a demon. He may as well chain me to his side and throw away the key because I already know that my life without him in it will be a far lesser one. What happens next is up to him, but I’m fearful that when the sparkle rusts with time, he will regret his decision and do what his father did and find somebody else.
It’s at this precise moment the reality of my situation hits me hard because I never saw this coming at all. What started out as an intriguing game has changed my life and I’m not sure if it’s got my best interests at heart.
CHAPTER 45
VALENTIN
Iwas true to my word. I fucked Polly all the way to Russia, and she is exhausted.
I am empty.
We are heading at speed toward the Romanov mansion and I never expected to return with my wife.
She is sleeping beside me, her head pressed against my shoulder, my arm securing her in place as if I’m afraid to lose contact with her.
The landscape that passes in a blur is a familiar one and yet it’s as if I don’t know it at all because my life changed when I opened that box and saw my mother’s face inside. The letter was mind-blowing, but that isn’t what shocked me the most.
I have many questions and I’m not sure I’ll like the answers. However, there’s a part of me that hopes it’s a mere coincidence and she isn’t involved with Marsha Steele like the rest of them.
Polly stirs and I whisper, “Sleep, malyshka.”
I drop a light kiss on the top of her head and my heart explodes for her. I’m not sure when I fell in love with Pollyanna Scott-Stanley. It could have been the moment I saw her watching me as I tossed the rose into her aunt’s grave and I turned and saw her for the first time. It could have been when I tasted her soft lips and gazed into her beautiful eyes, or it could have been a gradual stealing of my soul when she smiled in my direction.
I’m not troubled by that. I welcome it because now, through this entire shit show, I found someone I wasn’t expecting to find.
I found her.
She is mine, all mine. Just for me, only ever for me and I will guard my prize well. Having Polly beside me is like walking beside your heart. I cannot live if she is not by my side. She is the reason I can put one foot in front of the other. I’m not even terrified that I need her so much. I welcome it because now my life has a purpose. Now I’m fulfilled and no longer on my own. She is worth more than my billions because she gives me something money can never buy. She gives meaning to my life and right now, as I navigate the storm, she is the only person I can rely on to keep me from crashing and burning.
We turn into the driveway and pass the necessary security checks. Our mansion is a stronghold that even family must prove they deserve entry to. We take no chances with our safety, which is why it’s so important to solve the mystery of our father’s murder.
Somebody got to him when he should have been safe.
Somebody murdered our father in his own home.
“Wake up, malyshka. We are home.”
“Home.” Her soft voice is sleepy, causing me to smile as she stirs and sits up, her lashes fluttering against her creamy white skin.
I love watching her expressions. She is like a child discovering new delights and as she stares at the home we all share, rising majestically before us, her mouth drops open and she gasps, “Wow!”
She turns to me and I register the astonishment on her face as she gasps, “This is your home? It’s like a palace.”
“It’s our home, not just mine. You live here now.”
“In Russia?” Her eyes widen and I laugh softly, reaching out and trailing my finger down her face, resting on her soft lips. She opens her mouth to speak, but I get there first and capture her unspoken words with a soft kiss.
This will never get old. Kissing Polly is like sampling the most delicious flavor in the world. I am addicted to it—to her and my only regret is that she doesn’t realize the extent of my infatuation with her. She has doubts about my intentions. I see it in her eyes, but I’m too emotionally retarded to be able to deal with that. I am a master at wrapping emotion in a tightly sealed package inside my heart, much like the rest of my family. I can only demonstrate with actions rather than words, and so I pull back and stare deep into her eyes.
“I have something for you.”
“Again?” A mischievous smile dances across her lips, causing me to laugh softly.
“Later. No, this is long overdue.”
I reach inside my jacket and pull out a velvet-covered box and her eyes widen as I open it and say, “It’s a little late, but will you marry me, Pollyanna Romanov?”