“Shh, moya lyubov, you need to sleep.”
She tried to smile, and then winced when the movement pulled at the cut on her lip. He felt the wince like a punch in his gut. Hard. Painful. Taking his air. “You got these injuries from Uri, not the cave-in.”
“I’m all right now.” Her voice was low. She tried again to open her eyes, the lashes fluttering again, but she didn’t succeed. “You’re free. That’s all that matters.”
It wasn’t all that mattered to him. He pressed her fingertips to his mouth. “You have to know something, malyshka. I would give you the moon, anything you ask me for, I’ll do my best to make it yours, but not this. Never again. I won’t let you do this again. You have to know something about me, Giacinta. You have to learn this right now. My woman doesn’t take this kind of risk again. It’s not going to happen.”
This time her eyes did manage to open. The sight of her one eye so swollen and black and blue made his stomach lurch. He kissed her fingers while her gaze drifted over his face. She was looking at a very distinguished gentleman with graying hair, wearing a suit. His identification hung from a clip off the pocket of his vest.
“I’m not trying to be a dictator, malyshka. It’s in my nature to be one, I won’t lie about that, but I will never go through this again. You’re going to be glued to my side twenty-four hours a day where I can make certain you’re alive.”
“I love you, Casimir,” she whispered, and her lashes drifted down over her eyes.
She was alive. That was all that mattered. But he was dead serious. It didn’t matter if she took him that way or not, his woman would be safe. Hell. She wasn’t going outside her home to rake the leaves off the ground without him.
Casimir hadn’t known it was possible to be terrified. Emotions like fear had been beaten out of him years ago. He always believed that his instructors had done the worst to all of them so anything that happened after that was nothing to them. There was no way to prepare for having someone you loved with every breath you took be in danger. He just knew he couldn’t go through that again. Those minutes and hours where he didn’t know if she was alive or dead. That time when she was out of his sight, in danger, with men who had no respect for life.
He kissed her fingertips again, looking down at her. The woman who held his heart in her hands. He couldn’t stay. But he’d be back. “Not ever again, Giacinta,” he whispered. Meaning it.
Lissa had been prepared for the questions from the police. Someone from the embassy was always close, but truthfully, she wasn’t concerned. No one questioned her story. She really was Lissa Piner from the United States. She really did come to St. Petersburg at the request of Uri and Kostya Sorbacov to talk about chandeliers for their hotel.
They were celebrating their deal with champagne when a bullet came through the window and ended Kostya’s life. Uri and his men had rushed them down into a tunnel and into a room where they were going to stay to be safe while Uri’s men had scattered to get information on the shooter. The tunnel had collapsed with no warning.
Lissa had been fully prepared to answer the questions from the police. She was careful not to repeat her story over and over without changing or adding little details so it didn’t sound rehearsed. She hadn’t been prepared for the reporters. They’d been a nightmare. She told herself it was good for her business to get so much publicity, but the reporters made it difficult to be with Casimir. All she wanted was to be with him.
He’d come to the hospital three times during her stay there. That scared her. He was placing himself in terrible danger, but nothing she said dissuaded him. She had one more night in the hotel the Russian government had put her in before the doctors would sign off on her going home. One more night and she was back with Casimir and they could go home.
The knock came and her heart nearly stopped. He wouldn’t dare. This was a government hotel. Cameras were everywhere. They only had one more night to get through and then they were home free. She hurried across the room to the door, putting her eye to the little peephole. She couldn’t see a thing. She knew, though. She knew by the way her body reacted. The way her heart had gone crazy. It would always go crazy when he was near. Her husband. Casimir Prakenskii. She loved that. Loved that once they left this place, he would be able to reclaim his true birthright. All of his brothers would be able to without fear of consequences.
Lissa flung open the door. Casimir stepped inside, kicked the door closed and swept her into his arms. Lifting her, holding her to his body so close, so tight, she couldn’t breathe, but she didn’t care. She circled his neck with her one good arm, closing her eyes, feeling safe for the first time in more than a week.