Hadn't figured out words yet.
Then, the water stopped.
The door opened.
Harper stepped out. Clearly hadn't expected me.
Just a big white towel wrapped around her, hair damp over her shoulders, dripping. Water trailed her pale neck, over her collarbone, vanishing into the towel's deep shadow.
Dressing room light backlit her, outlining lush curves.
She froze seeing me.
"Kirill?" Harper's eyes widened like a startled deer's. "You're back?"
Her eyes were red—recent tears. Guilt surged again, but hot on its heels came a raw, undeniable urge.
I said nothing,strode over.
"Ah!" She yelped, backed up—but hit the wall.
I caged her in, hands braced on either side, claiming her space.
Air thick with her faint body wash—milk and honey. Mixed with the borscht aftertaste, it blended oddly perfectly.
Harper looked up, eyes evasive, lips pressed tight. Lashes trembled, holding back emotion.
"What do you want?" She spoke, voice taut. "If you think I shouldn't have gone to the office, I won't again."
She turned away, eyes reddening.
I paused. Was she angry? Hurt?
"The soup was good." I eyed her lips, pale as cherry blossoms. "Beef tender too. Best meal I've had in years."
Harper's eyes lit up, so easy to please it ached. "Really? You... ate it?"
"Ate it. Drank every drop." I skipped the cookies—my secret. "But I'm still hungry."
"Huh?" She blinked. "Want me to have Galina make more? Or something else?"
I smirked, leaned in close to her ear.
"I want something else."
My hand slid down her arm to the towel's edge. Skin under my palm was silky and warm, like fine satin.
Harper shuddered, face flushing red—she got it.
"Kirill..." She pushed my chest weakly, more tease than refusal. "Did you read the card?"
Card? Fuzzy memory—that pink thing.
Where'd I toss it? Study drawer? Trash?
Damn, I hadn't opened it, but now, at the brink, I'd better not admit.
"Yeah." I lied smoothly, thumb stroking her inner wrist. "Well-written. Very sincere."
