Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 52062 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 260(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52062 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 260(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
For her sake, I should take her to her own bed.
But I don't.
Because my bedroom is the best, and the safest, in the house.
The sheets are cool as I lay her down, and she makes a small sound of protest at the loss of my warmth. I pull the comforter over her, tucking it around her shoulders, and force myself to step back.
I turn toward the door.
"Don't go."
Her voice stops me mid-step. It's barely a whisper, soft and drowsy, but it holds me there.
I look back. Her eyes flutter open and those big brown eyes find mine in the dim light from the hallway.
"Please stay with me. I don’t want to be alone."
I hesitate.
I want to walk back to that bed and take her in my arms and hold her through the night.
I want to kiss the fear from her lips.
I want to peel every piece of clothing from her body and make her forget the storm outside with every inch of mine.
But that’s not what she needs from me tonight.
What she needs is comfort.
And I will give it to her.
I won’t let her fear get to her again tonight.
Not with my arms around her.
I cross the room to the bed and slide in beside her. Immediately she curls into me, her head finding that spot beneath my chin like she was made to fit there.
Her arm drapes across my chest, and she releases a soft sigh that sounds like relief.
"Thank you," she murmurs against my shirt.
I wrap my arms around her. "Sleep, malyshka. I'm not going anywhere."
She makes a small sound and presses closer. Her leg slides between mine, and her fingers curl into my shirt again, and damn if this doesn’t feel like everything I thought it would.
Each second pulls me deeper into something I've been consumed by for months now.
Ever since the day I saw her outside her gallery. When I left my car and crossed the street to purposely put myself in her path so those big brown eyes would look up and see me.
I close my eyes against the memory and press my lips to the top of her head.
In a matter of hours, the storm will pass.
But what it leaves behind will change everything.
21
HOLLY
Something tugs at me from the edge of sleep, and my eyes flick open, and it takes me a moment to get my bearings. That I’m in Nikolai’s bedroom where it’s dark and quiet and impossibly still.
The storm has passed.
I feel for the space beside me, but it’s empty.
My gaze drifts around the frost-hazed room, and I see him, standing tall and motionless at the window. He’s shirtless and in nothing but sweatpants, the hard lines of his body outlined in a faint green-blue light.
Aurora Borealis.
The Northern Lights.
They shimmer in the sky beyond the glass, ethereal and impossible, casting long glows across the floor and Nikolai’s bare skin. His breath fogs faintly against the cold pane of glass. He doesn't move. Just watches, lost in thought.
My heart does a slow twist.
Wrapping the blanket around me, I rise and pad barefoot across the room. He doesn’t look back, but I see his shoulders tense when I stop behind him.
“You should be sleeping,” he says.
“So should you,” I whisper, my voice small in the hush between us.
Silence as the Aurora dances green-gold over the trees outside.
Everything in Nikolai’s body is rigid, like he’s containing something that doesn’t want to be caged.
I lift my hand before I can stop myself, and my fingers brush the plane of his back.
His breath catches, and I feel him tense up.
He doesn’t turn. But his voice lowers to an unsteady growl.
“You don’t know what you’re doing, Holly.”
“Yes, I do.” I step closer, the blanket slipping from my shoulders and pooling at my feet. The cold bites instantly at my skin, but I don’t care. I run my fingers down the curve of his muscular back. “I know exactly what I’m doing.”
Slowly, he turns, and our eyes meet in the glow of the Aurora. He lifts a hand to cup my cheek, and his thumb brushes along my jaw.
“I could ruin you,” he says. It isn’t a threat. It’s a warning. Almost a plea for me to stop this because he can’t.
“I’m not afraid of you,” I whisper.
“You should be.”
I shake my head and give him a soft smile. “Never.”
With a growl, his mouth crashes into mine.
Heat surges like a fire reigniting all at once, wild and greedy. His hand buries in my hair while the other curls around my waist, dragging me up against him. I gasp into him and his tongue pushes in. And there’s nothing soft in the way he’s kissing me. It’s desperate and starved, like he’s been dying for this, and now that it’s finally here he can’t control it.
I kiss him back just as hard, my fingers digging into his shoulders, clutching the muscle like I need him to hold me upright.