I nod, sadly and slowly. “Yeah. Mom. Dad passed away a long time ago, left her a little money. But she’s been living off her art as best she can and getting by, believe it or not. But then she had her accident.”
His gaze wordlessly encourages me to go on. So I do.
“A few months ago, she slipped on some black ice outside her house. She landed badly, fracturing her hip.” I sigh, memories of the last few months coming back in waves. “She needed a full hip replacement. Her insurance covered some of it, but not all.”
“And that’s really why you’re here.”
“Yeah. I have student loans to worry about and she needs some help. The problem is that Mom, bless her, is just too damn proud. She doesn’t want a dollar from me or my brother. But he and I came up with a plan. We’re going to save, and then when we have a good amount, we’re going to pay as much as we can. She doesn’t have to like it.”
My plan earns me a sly half-smile. I start playing nervously with my hair, suddenly feeling very exposed.
“So, yeah, that’s why I’m here. I may not be a professional artist, but I can help kids like Sasha develop their talent. And I might not be rich, but I can and will look after my family.”
He slowly sips his drink, his eyes still on me. He’s thinking. Assessing. “What do you want?”
The question catches me by surprise. “I’m sorry?”
“Out of life. What do you want?”
A tinge of relief. “Oh. Um. To work, earn some money, help my Mo?—”
“No. Not the practical answer. The accurate one.”
I pause. What the hell do I even say to something like that? No one has ever asked me that question before. I sip my drink. Nothing in Roman’s gaze or body language suggests he wants me to rush my answer.
Finally, I take a breath and speak. “I want to make something beautiful. Something that matters. Something that lasts.”
He nods slowly, his gaze unwavering. “Then you should do that.”
I look away, my cheeks burning. The steam swirls. The candles flicker. His attention wraps around me like warm hands. I’ve never had a man listen to me like this before, never had one care to hear about my dreams, about what I really want.
After a long moment, he leans lower into the water, his voice dropping. “Join me.”
I go completely still.
The water ripples around him, catching the candlelight. His eyes are darker now—not commanding but inviting.
My breath stutters. My pulse thunders. My pussy clenches.
“Roman…” I whisper.
I want to step in.
I know I shouldn’t, unsure if I’m ready for what happens next if I get into that water.
CHAPTER 5
AMALIE
Join me.
Two words that could change the total trajectory. I’m in my night clothes, feeling more exposed than the man who’s naked in front of me.
My brain is screaming that it’s a terrible idea, but my body isn’t getting the memo. My skin prickles, my pulse pounds, and my panties are fucking soaked.
I take one more sip of vodka, pushing the glass away so I don’t lose any more of my inhibitions. The drink burns deliciously all the way down, pooling in my stomach, mingling with the nervous desire.
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
