“So romantic.”
“I could be, if you’d let me.” He leaned up on one elbow and arrowed that blue-eyed charm my way.
“Not sure I’d survive, Alexei.” I hated how the words sounded on my lips. How the hurt of before still found a way to surface from the depths.
“I want to take care of you, Lauren, and not just when you have the stomach flu or a burst pipe.”
I wanted that, too. I needed it. But I’d let him in before and trust was a finite resource.
Rather than deal with it, I sat up, conscious of the drying gunk on my skin. “Right now, you can take care of me by washing this off.”
He frowned. “But I have marked you, Silver Eyes. You should never want to shower again.”
Humor from the Russian? It was confirmed when the corner of his lips tipped up.
Gently, he redressed me, then stood and pulled on his jeans. He extended his hand. “Shower, then more orgasms. I have fifteen years to make up for.”
Chapter Forty-Two
Alexei
* * *
I awoke to dawn’s early light peeking through the blinds and Lauren, dressed and sitting on my side of the bed. She was leaving but had apparently decided to grace me with goodbye. Such progress.
“What time is it?”
“Alexei, the front door is open.”
The words were a jolt to my senses. “My father?”
“Not in his room. I checked the house and garden. There’s no sign of him.”
I stabbed my legs into sweats and grabbed my sneakers. “What time is it? Did he take the car?”
“It’s just before six a.m. I’ll check.” She headed downstairs and called out just as I descended the steps. “It’s still parked outside. Do you have another one?”
“Yes, but it’s garaged. He wouldn’t know how to get it out.” I spied my car keys on the foyer table, along with my house keys. What a horny fool I was. I had forgotten to lock up.
“So he’s on foot,” she said. “He can’t have gone far.”
She was right, but knowledge didn’t lessen the terror. I grabbed both sets of keys and hurried out while Lauren closed the door behind me. The sun was coming up, but the frosted light was just dim enough to make visibility difficult. If he stepped into the path of an oncoming car …
“Maya will be here soon. I can ask her to check the streets on the drive over.”
She held out her hand for my phone. “I’ll text. You drive.”
I pulled out and hovered at the entrance to the paved driveway. Which way would he have gone? The street was tree-lined in both directions, and at this time, completely devoid of life. Soon there would be dog walkers and joggers, but for now we had luck as there were few cars driving at this early hour.
“Where might he have gone?” Her soft words cut through the muddiness of my brain.
“He hasn’t been out that much. I’ve taken him on walks around the neighborhood. To the coffee shop.” He liked the flaky almond croissants. Turning left, I headed toward downtown Riverbrook.
“Don’t go too fast,” she said, her hand on my arm, reading my mind.
We drove a few minutes until we reached the High Street. The coffee shop we had frequented before wasn’t open yet. All that was missing on the ghostly street were tumbleweeds.
“What did he like to do in Seattle?”
