Page 3 of Frozen Heart

He headed towards the door. I closed my eyes and my whole body slumped in relief.It’s over. He’s going.

But as he walked away, I felt an...ache.That heat he’d lit in me, the memory of how his eyes had softened for a second. And the ache tugged at me.

I felt my mouth open.

Don’t be an idiot, Bronwyn. Just shut up. In a few seconds, he’ll be gone.

He put his hand on the door handle.

“Mr. Aristov!”

Everyone in the bookstoreexceptRadimir turned to look at me, and it went utterly silent. Then Radimir turned, one eyebrow raised, as if no one had ever dared to shout after him like that before. He tilted his head a fraction of a degree: a warning.

What are you doing, Bronwyn? He’s a freakin’ mobster.

I swallowed. “It’s—It’s a trilogy. So if she likes the first book…”

For a moment, he just stared at me, as if willing me to weaken and drop my eyes. But when I choose to dig in, I can be stubborn. I lifted my chin and stared right back.

I thought I saw the faintest hint of a smile play across his lips, as if he was impressed with me. Then he nodded curtly, and he was gone.

2

RADIMIR

It started with a weakness.

I was on my way to a meeting with the mayor and I’mneverlate. But it was Lina’s birthday in a week and she’s one of the few relatives I have left in Russia. So, when I’d seen the little bookstore’s window lit up bright, I’d told Valentin to pull over.Two minutes,I’d told him. I’d be in and out and still be on time to meet the mayor.

Except...it hadn’t worked out like that.

I cursed under my breath and marched out of the store’s orange glow and back into the darkness. The wind hit me full force, gusting under my coat and up my back, but I ignored it. Whatever cold America threw at me, I’d known colder.

I walked faster but it didn’t matter. However fast I walked, I couldn’t leave her behind. She wasthere,in my mind.

Tight green ribbed sweater, the lines arcing and curving as they traced the shape of her breasts.

Blue jeans that hugged the ripe curves of her hips.

Copper hair that fell in soft waves past her shoulders, gleaming gold and scarlet as it caught the light.A shock of color in my gray, cold world.

None of that mattered. Lust was lust, a need that could be sated with any of the women who circled our family like lipsticked, long-legged spiders. What mattered were her eyes. Big and liquid and the soothing green of a virgin forest. So welcoming, from the moment she saw me, despite me being a big, scary bastard. So warm, no matter how hard I’d glared at her.

Soinnocent.I was...drawnto her. I didn’t understand it, but just the memory of her had my cock swelling in my pants. She was so...good.The mirror image of me. She’d genuinely wanted to help me find the right book. And I could tell she was a hard worker: the floors of the bookstore were spotless, despite all the customers tracking in slush from the snow outside.

A good-hearted, honest woman. It had been a long time since I’d met one of those. It made me want to shove those tight blue jeans down around her ankles along with her panties, baring those milky-white thighs and the soft pink lips of her pussy. Press her up against the counter and bury my cock in her,just sink balls deep into that innocence and fuck the good right out of her, in front of all her customers. Until she was sopping and slick around me, until she was clutching me, eyes screwed shut, screaming my name.

The part that made me hardest was knowing she wanted it just as much as I did. I’d seen it in the way she flushed, in the way her breathing quickened when our eyes locked. There was a part of her that needed my darkness as much as I needed her light.

I reached the street and scowled left and right, waiting for a gap in the traffic.

There was something else. The way she’d gotten so damnhappywhen she talked about that book. She’d gone off into her own little world, grinning and bright-eyed and…in Russia, we would sayVoskhititel'nyy. Adorable.

Adorablehas never been my type.And yet, when she talked about that book, about fae kings and girls with bows...I could have listened to her for hours.

I wondered what it must be like, to believe in happy endings.

A gap opened up in the traffic and I stalked across the street to where Valentin was waiting. “That was a lot longer than two minutes,” he said mildly as I climbed into the car.