Page 31 of Vicious Devotion

He shifts towards me. My pulse is throbbing, my blood rushing in my ears, and my mouth feels dry. My tongue flicks out, sweeping over my lower lip to dampen it, and I see the muscle in Gabriel’s jaw tick.

Please kiss me. I want it so badly, even though I shouldn’t. Even though there’s nothing we should do less than complicate our situation even further by turning this back into something more than it began as—a professional relationship between a widower in need of a nanny, and a girl in need of an escape.

“We can’t,” I whisper before he can come closer, before we can make a mistake that Cecelia and Danny might see, which would complicate things even more. I have no doubt that they’d be thrilled to see us kissing—the topic of Gabriel and I together has never come up, because we’ve been very careful. But they’re both attached to me, and I have a feeling that they would whole-heartedly endorse me as a stepmother.

My heart skips a beat at the thought. A different kind of longing—one for security and stability, and a permanent future with the family I’ve come to love—sweeps through me. I fight it back, as I slide away from Gabriel and try not to see the disappointed look that flickers over his face as he sits up, leaning forward with his arms on his knees. He looks away from me, watching the children, and I both wish I knew what he was thinking and am glad I don’t, all at the same time.

I look at the handsome profile of his face, and a feeling of desolation sweeps over me. How am I ever going to fall in love with anyone, ever again? Even if a time comes when I’m safe from the Bratva, when I have nothing to fear from Igor, even if there’s a time when I can have exactly what future I choose, no matter what it is—every day that passes makes it more and more clear that it’s going to be impossible to ever find anyone who makes me feel like Gabriel does. Who is even a fraction of the man that he is.

But I don’t want to be alone forever. And I don’t want to lose this job, or this family that’s beginning to feel more and more like my own, because of my feelings for the man who is still, at the end of the day, my boss. Even if I can’t imagine how it’s possible to keep living with and working for him, and be with anyone else at the same time. It feels wrong, now more than ever.

Would Gabriel be able to stand seeing me with another man? It was the agreement we made before, that he was just helping me overcome my fears, teaching me the things I wanted to learn, so that I could move on with someone else. But I think of the way he’s touched me, the way he’s kissed me?—

I bite my lip, looking down at the soft picnic blanket. The thought of seeing Gabriel with another woman makes my chest ache. I don’t know why it would be any different for him—unless he doesn’t feel anything for me. Unless what there was between us was all physical pleasure, and nothing more.

Which is exactly what it was meant to be.

It will wear off eventually, I tell myself, picking at the wool fabric and looking out towards the lake. All I need to do is focus on other things, until the Bratva threat is dealt with as Gabriel has promised it will be, and we’re back in New York. Then, I can think about what the future might hold—once I have a future to think about at all.

I stand up, slipping my shirt over my head as I look at the crystalline lake. It’s growing hotter as the afternoon goes on, and as a bead of sweat slides down the back of my neck, I suddenly want very much to go for a swim—and to put some distance between Gabriel and me.

I can feel his eyes on me as I drop my shirt to the blanket and undo my jeans, but I don’t dare look at him. If I do?—

The memory of that night by the pool sweeps over me, prickling my skin. Nothing like that could happen here, today—we have company. But even a kiss is too much to give in to, and I might do exactly that, if I look over and see desire in Gabriel’s eyes.

Kicking off my sandals, I walk through the grass down to the edge of the lake, not looking behind me once. I wave to Cecelia, who has a bunch of wildflowers in her hand, stepping into the water and sighing as I feel the cool lap of it against my ankles.

This place is paradise. It’s the most beautiful place I’ve ever been, made a hundred times better by who I’m here with. If only my every moment wasn’t dogged by the fear of who will inevitably follow, it would be perfect.

But that fear is inescapable. And even in the shimmering, warm beauty of this particular moment, with laughter in front of me and the heat of Gabriel’s gaze heavy against my back, I can’t shake it.

Igor will come for me. And when he does, I’m terrified of what the fallout might be.

—

Dinner that evening is a summery lamb pasta with fresh peas and burrata that Agnes makes, paired with a crisp white wine from the estate’s vineyard. Afterwards, Gabriel sets up a projector and screen in the living room for us all to watch a movie. As he switches off the lights, I make a point to sit on the far side of the room, near Agnes, away from where I might be tempted to accidentally brush my hand against his in the dark. Even so, I can still feel him looking at me throughout the night.

After everyone has gone to bed, I FaceTime Clara, knowing that back in New York, she’ll be just getting off of work. She answers on the second ring, her face bright and happy in the screen’s picture, the afternoon light behind her. She’s in the kitchen of her small studio apartment—I can see the gauze curtains embroidered with little butterflies that she has on the window hanging behind her.

“Bella! I can’t believe you called; it’s got to be so late there.”

“Midnight,” I confirmed. “But I wanted to call you. I miss you.” As I say it, homesickness spreads through me, in direct contrast to the feeling I had earlier by the lake. But like the last time I talked to Clara, it’s not homesickness for New York. I don’t know that I would care if I never went back there. It’s homesickness for my best friend. Right now, more than ever, I wish she were here. And I know that would be a terrible decision for her to make—which is why I won’t ask.

“I miss you too. You’re going to be tired tomorrow, getting up crazy early with the kids.”

I can’t completely stifle a yawn. “I know,” I admit. “But I wanted to show you this house. Agnes and I are plotting what we’re going to be doing to fix it up.” I turn the screen, so she can see the softly lit living room, with its large windows, carved fireplace mantel, and dark wooden floors in need of refinishing, as well as the vintage furniture. “Some of this we think we can salvage. And a lot of other stuff will need replacing. Cecelia has been picking out paint colors.”

“It’s beautiful,” Clara murmurs. “A little outdated for my taste, but I know you love old things.” She’s smiling when I turn the screen back to face me. “Show me more.”

I walk her through the house, the way I would if she were actually here. I show her the kitchen that overlooks the gardens, the old library, the bathroom with the big claw-foot tub and hand-painted mosaic tiles that Agnes and I are determined to keep, and my bedroom. I sink down onto the edge of the bed, and Clara looks back at me from the screen, her expression thoughtful.

“You know, if I were in your situation, I’d be terrified,” she says. “All of the time.”

I frown. “I am,” I admit. “But why would you say that? I mean—of course, I’m terrified. I have no idea when Igor might figure out where I am, or what he might do to get me back. But?—”

“Just let me finish,” Clara interrupts. “Even though you’ve got to be scared—anyone would be—you look happy. Despite the circumstances. The entire time you were describing the house to me, and the fact that it’s been in Gabriel’s family, the history behind it—all of that, you were smiling. You looked relaxed. Peaceful.” She lets out a slow breath. “He’s good for you, Bella. I think where you are now is good for you.”

“I don’t even know how he feels about me now,” I say softly. “It’s all—it’s all jumbled up with the rest of this. And it’s not really the time to think about it, either. It would only complicate things. Not make them easier.”