I laugh softly, leaning my forehead against the door. “That’s exactly why you’re staying on the other side.”
Another beat, and then his voice drops a little. “You’re beautiful, aren’t you?”
“How would you know?”
“I can hear it,” he says without missing a beat. “You sound like you’re smiling.”
That shouldn’t make my heart race the way it does.
“Maybe I am,” I murmur.
“Good,” he says, and I can hear the smirk. “You’ll need to save some of it for when I finally get to see you.”
“You mean when you finally get totouchme.”
The growl that leaves him is low, controlled, and dangerous in the best way. “Don’t start, Sienna.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
He mutters something under his breath in Russian—something I don’t understand, but I know the tone.
It’s the one he uses when I’ve pushed too far, and he secretly loves it.
“Three months, and you still haven’t learned to listen,” he murmurs.
“Three months, and you still haven’t learned to stop talking like you own me.”
“I don’t own you.” His voice is quieter now and sincere. “I just want to keep you.”
I take a breath, staring at the wood between us. The door feels like a metaphor. Everything we’ve fought through. Everything that’s still between us. But somehow, it’s thinner now.
Easier to breathe through.
“You’re sure about this?” I ask softly. “About us?”
“Never been surer of anything in my life,” he answers instantly. “You think I’d come all the way to Italy just to let you change your mind?”
“Maybe,” I say. “You did promise me three months.”
“And I made good on it, didn’t I? No threats. No forcing. Just me trying to prove I can be the man you want.”
“You’ve been doing better.”
“Better?”
“Progress, Benedikt. Don’t ruin it now.”
He laughs. “You’re lucky I can’t see you right now.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because you’d already be up against the wall,” he growls.
“Romantic as ever.”
“I’ll save the romance for after the vows,” he says. “And the wall.”
I press my lips together to stop myself from laughing. “You’re a pain in my ass, Ben.”
