I’m on cloud nine anyway, even if I wanted to keep going.
Finally, I know what it feels like to kiss her, to hold her, and to have her melt even just a bit for me. It’s like the biggest, most soul-altering hit I’ll likely never recover from.
For better or worse, Kat is in my bloodstream now, permanent and completely demanding of my full attention. I don’t even want to shake her loose. Not when she felt so perfect. Tasted even more ethereal than I could’ve guessed.
And that is one of the most dangerous thoughts I’ve had in a while.
Not that I was one to share intimate details of my personal life with my brothers anyway, I haven’t told any of them what happened that night at the club, or after the fact.
I haven’t said much to any of them since I filed the legal papers with the lawyer. The tension is still there between us, given how I went rogue and diverted away from Roman’s plans.
I know he’s still pissed, even if he hasn’t said anything else to me. I can still feel it in the silence between us, and in the way his shoulder is colder than ever, even if I haven’t received the brunt of it in person.
Maybe I should care, given how intertwined my life is with Roman and the others, but I don’t. Not right now, anyway.
I’m preoccupied. I’ve spent the last few days at home, recuperating from the assignment, but more so, watching Kat. Hovering and making sure I’m doing whatever I can to make her comfortable, even if she still looks at me with contempt.
Honestly, she seems more likely to try and stab me than kiss me again, but that doesn’t mean I’ve been able to close off that want.
Not being able to touch her after that kiss is driving me insane, whether she knows it or not.
I’ve never wanted anyone like this—not even remotely close.
And with her, it’s not just the thought of sex. It’s her fire and the way she challenges me with every look and every word. She doesn’t cower to me, and she doesn’t entirely submit, at least, not without obvious reluctance.
Despite myself, it makes me want to earn her in a way I’ve never been bothered to with anyone else before.
It seems almost ridiculous, but I catch myself doing things I never would’ve dreamed of several months ago.
When I have the chance, I get the coffee that she used to buy all the time brought over. I had the towels in her ensuitereplaced with softer ones, I’ve asked her what books and media she likes best, and I try to make sure the chef incorporates meals I know she enjoys.
Every small act feels like I’m reaching for a scrap of her attention, and I don’t even care how it might look anymore. I want to wear her down and prove to her that I’m not her enemy, that I can give her more than confinement and confusion.
It may not have been obvious at first, but I made her marry me for a reason, and it wasn’t just for the sake of the business.
I want her, and I can’t keep pretending it’s just part of the job.
At this point, it has nothing to do with Yuri or proving myself. Right now, I just want Kat to understand me and to see that I’ll do anything to gain her trust.
That’s a foreign concept to me, but for her, I’m willing to care.
I need to.
Kat’s curled up on the couch when I walk into the room, and she flips a page of the magazine in her lap, taking everything in like she’s trying to pretend I don’t exist.
It’s late afternoon now, and the house is full of the kind of quiet where even the clock on the wall nearby seems too loud.
Leaning against the doorframe, I watch her for a moment while I pull in a breath and proceed to swallow my pride.
Finally, I push away and take a few steps into the room. “You can call him.”
“Who?” Kat asks in return, not looking up.
“Roland, I mean,” I tell her, even if the thought still irks me. “You can call him and let him know you’re still alive. I’m sure he must be losing his mind by now.”
Her eyes brighten at the thought before they narrow slightly. “And what’s the catch?”
I can’t help my subtle smirk. She knows me so well already. “The caveat is that you do it on speaker, and you stick to the basics. No hints and no begging for rescue. Just check in.”
