Page 35 of Frozen Heart
I came awake slowlyfrom lovely, tangled dreams. I was a mermaid, wearing my seashell bra, and I was basking in the sun at the edge of a beach in Texas, my tail in the water and my top half cuddled up to the roguish cowboy outlaw who’d helped me save my father’s ranch. I wasn’tcompletelysure how I’d ridden horses and worked the ranch with a tail, but it’d made sense in the dream. And it had been soreal...I could still feel the warm press of the outlaw’s chest under my cheek and the muscles of his torso under my fingers.
Alarm bells started to ring at the back of my mind. The outlaw felttooreal. I reluctantly clawed myself the rest of the way awake?—
Ohshit.
I was lying on my side with my head on Radimir’s bare chest. One arm was hugging his waist, tight as a teddy bear, and one leg was wantonly across him, my knee kissing up against the hard bulge in his jockey shorts. I shut my eyes for a second and cursed. Then I began to extricate myself, inch by tentative inch. I drew my knee back from his cock. I unwound my arm fromaround his waist. Then I slowly lifted my head.Don’t wake up, don’t wake up, don’t wake up?—
I started to turn my back to him. But at that moment, he gave a sleepy grunt, threw his arm around me and came with me, rolling over on his side so that he was spooning me from behind. I swallowed. I knew he was still asleep because he was snoring softly, his nose buried in my hair like a big, snuffling bear. But his hand had landed right on my breast and his cock was now snugged between the cheeks of my ass.
And it felt freakin’ fantastic. I could feel my nipple hardening against his palm and the press of his cock reminded my body exactly how good it had felt inside me, that night at the bookstore. I could feel myself getting wet. God, I almost wanted to…
No.I wasnotgoing to rub myself off while I was in his arms.
I bit my lip.But I could just slip a hand down, he’d never notice…
No! Definitely not!But my hand started to move?—
Electronic beeping shattered the silence: Radimir’s phone alarm.
A lot happened very quickly.
Radimir came instantly awake, felt my breast under his hand and jerked his hand back. I snatched my hand back from my groin. Both of us sat up in bed, staring at each other.
“I’m sorry—” he started.
“It’s okay!”
“I must have...Chyort!“ I was guessing that was some sort of Russian curse. He ran a hand through his hair, guilt stricken. “I wasasleep!”
“It’s alright.” I knew I should come clean and say I’d grabbed him first, but I wasn’t that brave. “I’ll, um...go jump in the shower.”
The shower in the wet room was fantastic, like standing under a waterfall. As the water beat on my shoulders, I tried to figure out what the hell we were going to do. The three weeks until the wedding were just the beginning: we were going to be trapped togetherforever.This sleeping-in-the-same-bed-but-no-sex thing couldn’t last, not when we wanted each other this much. But I kept reliving the moment I’d seen him kill Borislav. He reallywasa monster, and I couldn’t love a man like that.So how does this end?
When I reluctantly dragged myself out of the shower and got dressed, I found him whisking eggs in the kitchen. He gestured to a stool at the kitchen island and I sat, staring as he crushed garlic with the side of a knife. “You cancook?”I asked, amazed.
He didn’t answer, just carried on cooking, chopping herbs and adding them to the mix. But then, his eyes still on the food, he said, “My brothers were young when I brought them to America. I had to feed them on a budget.”
Hebrought them here? Were his parents already dead, by then? What happened to them? I had so many questions but I was getting big, heavydon’t askvibes, so I stayed quiet.
He hadn’t put his waistcoat and jacket on, yet. As he cooked the omelets, his white shirt kept pulling tight around the hard globes of his biceps and the slabs of his pecs, and that reminded me of how good that warm muscle had felt when I’d been cuddled up to him…
I tore my eyes away, flushing, and glanced around the apartment. Last night’s storm clouds had disappeared and the sky was a fierce pale blue. The whole penthouse was drenchedin sunlight and the view across the city was amazing: I could see most of Chicago.
Radimir slid an omelet onto my plate, and I dug in. It was amazing, light and fluffy and dotted with little pieces of salty goat’s cheese and juicy ham. He’d made coffee, too. “Thank you,” I said, sincerely. “This is...amazing.”
He glanced up from his food and caught my eye, then gave me one of those curt little nods. My chest went tight: he wastrying. And God, he looked good, sitting there in his shirt sleeves. But I couldn’t ignore what he was.
Something else I couldn’t ignore: my joints. My hands were stiff, and the pain in my knees had been getting steadily worse over the last week. I could tell I was heading into a major flare-up, which might last a month or two. By the time the wedding came, I wouldn’t be able to walk down the aisle. And even though the whole thing was fake, some stubborn part of me refused to let my illness spoil the big day. Fortunately, there was something I could do, even if it had consequences. I messaged my Rheumatologist and got lucky: she had a cancellation and could see me that afternoon.
Just as we were finishing breakfast, a delivery driver arrived with two packages. They were addressed to Radimir, but he passed them both to me.
I opened the first one, mystified. Inside was a shallow black box and when I opened the top, I was staring at a glossy black rectangle with raised silver letters:B. Hanford.“What is this?” I asked.
“A credit card.”
“I know it’s a credit card. I didn’t sign up for one.”
“It’s on my account. The bills will come to me.” He gestured at the penthouse, himself, everything. “You didn’t choose this. I can at least make sure you’re comfortable.”