Something blooms in my chest. This isn’t just a job anymore. I don’t know what it is, to be honest.
When Roman stands and looks at me again, his expression is softer than I’ve ever seen it.
“Thank you,” he says simply.
CHAPTER 17
AMALIE
The house is quiet in the deep, empty way it always is at night.
I just got Sasha to sleep. I take one more look at him before shutting the door to his bedroom. I place my hand on the clay necklace, now wearable after a little bit of time in the kiln and some glaze. He’d insisted I wear it to bed, and I promised I’d at least wear it up until I go to bed. The last thing I want is to wreck my gift tossing and turning.
I check my phone. It’s a little after eight. A drink sounds nice, I decide. Maybe a little bit of red wine and some reading.
I slip into the kitchen, grab the bottle of cab on the counter, and pour myself a small glass. Drink in hand, I head into the sitting room. My eyes widen when I see Roman in there. I freeze, taking in the sight of him. He stands near the window, jacket off, shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The moonlight outlines his shape in a ghostly, silvery glow.
He looks otherworldly.
Part of me wants to turn and slowly, very quietly, leave the room. I don’t know if I have the mental bandwidth to handle the sexual tension that hits me just as surely as if I’d walked into a wall.
“You kept it on,” he says.
I place my fingertips on the necklace, the clay smooth from the glaze. “I told him I would.”
He turns his head slightly, just enough for me to see something warm flicker in his eyes. “He doesn’t give his things away lightly. It took quite a bit of pestering before Andrei managed to get that portrait of himself for framing.”
Roman turns the rest of his body and leans back against the windowsill. “Come. I have something for you.”
“What is it?”
“You’ll see.”
My pulse stutters as I step across the room, setting down my untouched glass of wine on an end table.
He reaches into his pocket, slips out a velvet box, and opens it. Inside is a necklace. Diamonds, delicate and precise, catch the moonlight like captured stars.
I stare, unable to believe what I’m seeing. “Roman?—”
“I want to thank you. I know it’s only been just over a week, but already you’ve done so much for Sasha. You’re under no pressure to accept it, but it’s the least I can do.”
I reach forward. Part of me wants to take the necklace out, admire it closely, feel it in my grip. Instead, I close the box carefully, my fingers shaking a bit.
“It’s just… this is a hell of a gift.”
“Then don’t think of it as a gift. Think of it as a token of appreciation. I don’t like to see good work go unrewarded.” He opens the box again, moonlight glittering off the diamonds where it left off. “Let’s see how it looks, at least. Turn around.”
Roman gently takes the necklace out of the box. I turn. His fingers graze my skin as he fastens the clasp, the touch so light it sends shivers down my spine. His hands linger at my shoulders.
I can smell the clean, warm musk I associate with him. When I turn back around, his expression softens.
“How does it look?”
“It’s beautiful. Fitting, for you.”
My heart flutters. His nearness, his scent, his kindness is almost too much to take.
“You make my son happy,” he says. “It’s obvious.”
