Page 67 of Frozen Heart

He followed my gaze and nodded. “Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t leave.”

“They don’t let anyone leave?” I asked. “Ever?”

He shook his head. Then he winced and gave me a half-hearted nod. “Therewasa man, once. He got out.”

“Your friend in New York. The hitman who fell in love with his target.”

“Formerfriend. Yes. His boss let him out because...well, he did something huge for him.”

“But youarethe boss,” I said gently. He said nothing. “But you still can’t leave, can you? You don’t want to.”

He sighed. “It’s not about not wanting to. It’s...this is in my blood, Bronwyn.”

My heart sank.

He took my hand. “It’s who I am,” he said. “It’s who I’ll always be.” He looked down at his chest and pointed to one of his scars, on the side of his pec. “Here. Look.”

I looked. It was small and circular, so I’d taken it for a bullet wound. But it wasn’t the same as the others. The edge was too perfectly circular and there were ridged lines in the center that almost seemed to form a symbol.

“After my father died…” He stopped suddenly and looked away, unable to continue. “Before we went to Vladivostok….” He broke off again. I kept quiet, giving him space, my chest aching.What happened to his father? What happened in Vladivostok?I wanted to help but I couldn’t, until he told me. And I wasn’t sure he ever would.

He took a deep breath and started again. “My father had this metal seal, passed down through the family, for sealing letters with wax. He never used it: no one writes letters anymore. But it washis,and it had our family’s symbol on it. And?—”

I put my hand over my mouth as I realized what the scar was. “Someonebrandedyou with it?!”

He shook his head. “No.Idid.” He met my eyes and held them. “And then I did it to Gennadiy. And Valentin. Before we went away. To remind us that we were Aristovs, and that we needed to stick together. And that one day, we’d build something together, something no one could ever take away from us.” He shook his head. “I can’t leave them, Bronwyn. And I can’t leave the Bratva. I’m sorry.”

I nodded and rested my head on his shoulder. I could feel things shifting inside me, realigning. I wasn’t mad at him, I understood. And I couldn’t ask him to change. But what he’d said confirmed everything I’d been afraid of: there’d always be this big, dark presence in his life, pulling him away from me.

“Having regrets?” he asked after a while.

“No,” I said immediately. I twisted and looked up at him. “Not for a minute.” And I meant it. Him walking into my bookstore was the best thing that ever happened to me. Him leaving the Bratva had always been a long shot, but I’d had to try. I’d just have to find another way to make this work.

We ate dinner in one of the hotel restaurants and then, when we got back to our villa, Radimir told me to put my swimsuit back on. At first, I thought he just wanted to fuck me wearing it. But then he gestured me out onto the terrace and up a flight of stone steps on the side. I slowly climbed them, mystified.

It was a rooftop terrace, with a wall at the back to give us privacy, a spectacular view out over the ocean...and our own private hot tub.

Radimir appeared behind me with an armful of towels. “I know how much you like baths. So...”

Delighted, I climbed down the steps and into the tub. Underwater lights made it glow, and the water was bathtub warm and gently bubbling. I sat down—the seats werepadded!—and felt all my troubles melt away as I immersed myself right up to my chin.

Radimir climbed in after me, his red swim shorts billowing in the bubbles. He got comfortable, then adjusted the controls and I squeaked as bubbles erupted under the soles of my feet...then groaned as the jets started to massage my soles. I lay back against the padded headrest. “This may be the most comfortable I’ve ever been,” I murmured.

A wicked grin crept across Radimir’s face. “I think I know a way to make it better.”

He waded across to me, put his arm around my waist and lifted me. Then he sat and put me down in his lap, leaning us both back so that we were almost lying, with my head resting on his shoulder. Now I had the gloriously hot water, the bubbles...and his rugged, near-naked body underneath me.

He began stroking up and down the outside of my thighs and hips, easing the tension from them. I closed my eyes and sighed. With my legs bouncing gently in the stream of bubbles, I felt like I was floating in space. I could hear the surf crashing on the beach, Radimir’s slow breathing beneath me, and nothing else.Bliss.

Radimir’s hands moved to the fronts of my thighs, working out the knots there. Then, slowly, they moved inwards. I caught my breath as his fingertips skimmed up the sensitive skin of my inner thighs, just a few inches from my groin. I could feel his cock hardening beneath me. His fingers gradually circled inwards...upwards.I stiffened as they reached the edge of the narrow band of fabric that covered my groin. “Shall we go inside?” I asked.

“Why would we go inside?” His fingers moved to my pussy, rubbing in slow circles through the swimsuit.

My eyes flew open. The roof was private but notthatprivate. There were other villas on either side of ours, and if they wereup on their roofs, all they had to do was glance to the side. Not to mention the high-rise hotel behind us which overlooked everything. “People could see!” I whispered.

“Then they’ll be jealous of me,” he told me. And his fingers began to stroke up and down through the thin fabric. I bit my lip, still conflicted. Public sex was something I’d never been brave enough to try, even though the idea was kind of hot. But as he rubbed and circled, the pleasure started to override the fear. He knew exactly how much pressure to use, exactly what speed to go at...my hips began to helplessly circle. I glanced down at the water. The surface was foaming with bubbles...maybe they won’t be able to see what he’s doing.

He used the pad of his thumb to grind my clit, just rocking it back and forth through my suit while his fingers stroked. I started to breathe hard. God, I could feel my lips parting under his pressure, could feel how wet I was getting. Had he planned this? When we’d stood at the airport, choosing the swimsuit, had he looked at that narrow band of fabric that would cover my groin and imagined rubbingexactly there,and what it would do to me?