Ruthless Salvation

10

My time with Damyon was too precious to give over a single moment to dread. I would focus on the gift I’d been given and appreciate every second we were together.

I smiled at my reflection to reinforce the sentiment when a knock sounded on the door to my suite. Hurrying to greet my date, I swung open the door only to discover the hotel concierge standing on the other side.

“Oh! Hello.” My words felt bumbling since he’d caught me completely off guard. Not only was it not who I’d expected but he also carried champagne and strawberries on a silver platter. “Are those for me?”

“Pardon the interruption, madam.” He bowed his head. “These were sent over for you along with a note.” He lowered the tray so I could see the ivory envelope with my name scribed on the front.

I reached for the note, then opened the door to allow the man inside.

“You can set it anywhere, thank you.”

I broke open the seal and raced through Damyon’s words, fearing he was canceling our date. But I shouldn’t have worried. He was too sweet for that.

MOY ANGEL, I am running a half hour late. Please forgive me and enjoy these while you wait. D

WARMTH FLOODED my cheeks as a smile spread across my face. He’d given me so much of his time over the past two weeks, despite the vast real estate development enterprise he ran. The fact that he wasn’t late more often was a testament to his attentiveness and dedication. The least I could do was be flexible in return.

A clanking sound seized me from my thoughts. The bubbling champagne flute had tipped over when the man had tried to set down the tray on a small table, sending the pink liquid spilling onto the carpet below.

He shot me a horrified look, eyes round with fear. “How foolish of me. I cannot apologize enough. Please, please let me fix this.” His hurried and frantic words matched his actions when he raced to fetch a towel from the bathroom.

“It’s no big deal, really. Accidents happen.”

On his hands and knees, he attacked the spill with vigor. “You must forgive me. Please, I will bring another glass. There is no need to tell him what has happened. I beg of you.”

I could hardly comprehend his response. Why was this man freaking out? Damyon could be intense, but he wasn’t a monster. “It’s fine. Please, don’t worry.” I placed my hand on his back, hoping to calm him.

He sat back on his haunches, eyes peering up at me pleadingly. He eventually nodded somewhat defeatedly and stood. “I bring another and replace the towel.” He exited the room in reverse, bowing repeatedly on his way.

It had to be one of the strangest encounters of my life. I wasn’t sure I’d ever truly understand the Russian culture. The people here surprised me at every turn.

Shrugging, I sampled the strawberries while I waited for the champagne. The man must have run the entire way back to the kitchen because he returned within minutes. I took the glass from the tray this time, hoping to avoid another scene. He apologized yet again before leaving me to savor the drink. It was the perfect complement to the sweet fruit. Damyon’s gesture had been incredibly thoughtful, and I let him know the moment he arrived a half hour later.

“It was the least I could do, Sladkaya angel. I hated to keep you waiting.” He pressed a kiss to my lips, then drew away from me to allow his gaze to take a languid trip down my body. “You are exquisite, Alina. Totally and completely breathtaking.”

“And you are awfully good with words.” My blushing cheeks had to be as red as my satin dress. How did he always know the perfect thing to say? I’d met Southern charmers before, but Damyon was in a league of his own.

“With you, it is easy. I have never met a woman who captures me the way you do.” He brought my hand to his mouth and placed an ardent kiss on my knuckles. “Now, let us leave for dinner before I devour you instead.” Please, God. Yes.

The words never made it past my suddenly parched throat, but I felt them down to my weeping core. I wanted this man so desperately. My body ached for him. However, I’d been raised with traditional Southern values, so I never raced into a physical relationship. I wasn’t a virgin or anything, but I preferred to form an emotional connection before I was intimate with a man.

We’d talked about everything under the sun. Spent sunsets and sunrises together. Laughed together, and once, when I saw a painting in a museum that my mother had a print of in her bedroom, he held me while I cried.

Connection signed, sealed, and delivered.

My heart waved the green flag with enough force to knock my entire body off balance. I was practically giddy with the revelation. Wanting to ensure the night was perfect, I allowed Damyon to help me into my coat and take me to dinner.

He escorted me to a lovely French restaurant, which was empty save for a small number of staff who greeted us both like royalty. I smiled and saved my questions until we were seated.

“I don’t understand. Why is no one else here?”

“Because I reserved the whole restaurant for us. That way, I can have you all to myself. No distractions.” He poured us each a glass of wine from the uncorked bottle waiting at our table.

“That’s very sweet of you but unnecessary,” I said softly, a smidge overwhelmed by his grand gestures. “I hope you know that all I really want is to spend time with you.”

His hand covered mine, drawing my gaze back to his. “Moy angel, I have never wanted anything more in my life than I want you. To be with you and call you mine.” He paused with something more like poignancy than uncertainty. He wanted to emphasize the importance of whatever he was about to say next, and I waited with bated breath. “Tell me you will stay here in Moscow with me. Tell me you will not leave.”

“You … you want me to stay?” I asked in a whisper, too hopeful to believe my own ears. I’d imagined this exact scenario but hardly expected it to happen. These things didn’t happen in real life, did they?

There were reasons for the stereotype of men avoiding commitment and being slow to admit their feelings. That sort of man was more common than not, but Damyon was an exception to the rule. He was refreshingly transparent with his desire for me. He could be doting and affectionate without losing an ounce of the masculine prowess that radiated off him. I would have been crazy to let him slip through my fingers.

“This is all awfully fast. Are you sure you want this?” I couldn’t help but give him one more chance to reconsider.