Stepping out of her embrace, I give my dad a quick hug. “I’ll be done by the time you’re ready to go.”
“I’ll be here,” he says and winks at my mother.
I walk the underground path to the spa, passing rock and flowing water. Every so often, a soft sheen of light illuminates the passage, until I pass a wishing fountain tucked in the corner. Pennies gleam under the lights in there.
I pause, digging through my pockets, until my hand closes around one. “Score!”
Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath. If I could have any wish come true it would be that Roman comes back to me. That I would open my eyes and he’d be standing in front of me. Apology at the ready, of course. He’d take me in his arms and kiss me until I was breathless. Then we’d sneak away and make love until I couldn’t walk straight. Or maybe he couldn’t walk straight.
Opening my eyes, I toss the penny into the water. It lands with a small splash, water rippling. Then I turn around and slam my hand over my chest, barely stifling my scream.
“Holy crap!” I gasp.
Roman is standing there, a package under his arm and a determined look on his face. He says nothing, just takes me in with those sexy eyes of his. He looks as he always does in my imagination. Tailored suit, button down shirt with cuff links, and creased trousers. Black tattoos on his hand. His hair dark, perfectly styled.
My stuffy, starchy bookseller.
“What are you doing here?” I don’t mean to sound so sharp, but I’m torn between excitement and fury. I want to kiss and slap him at the same time.
He holds out his package, and I take it from him. “You forgot your last shipment of books.”
I give him an are-you-kidding-look. “You came all the way to Asheville, to my parents’ place of work to give me books?”
He nods. “You love books, especially Zoe Ambrose.”
I place one hand on my hip. “Don’t you mean Romanov?”
A black eyebrow quirks. “Yes.”
“Thanks.” I don’t want to go. I don’t want to leave him, but he’s not making it easy for me to stay with his silence. “Good seeing you.” My heart starts to break again as I move past him.
He catches my arm, and I look up at his gorgeous face. “I have more to say to you.”
I swallow down the lump in my throat. “I’m listening.”
“I’m sorry.” He gets down on his knees before me and takes my hand. “I’m sorry for not being the man you deserve. But I would like the chance to be that man. I love you, Everly Andrews.”
“You don’t know how long I’ve waited for you to admit that,” I say, tears in my eyes. I have. It feels like I’ve waited an eternity for the dense man to come around. “But I don’t know if I can trust you. What if... what if someone needs you to bring the bad guys to justice and you don’t tell me, go off on your own on a business trip, and get hurt? How can I live with that?”
He shakes his head, his eyes pleading. “You won’t have to.”
“You’d be honest and tell me before you go, or take me with you?”
Standing, he says, “Neither.”
I yank my hand away. “I’m not doing this. I want all or nothing with you, and if you can’t be—”
His mouth covers mine, giving me a long, hot kiss that makes my toes curl. He pulls away slightly. “I am no longer in the family business.”
“But you said you couldn’t get out. No one can,” I remind him. “You said it wasn’t safe for me.”
“My grandfather says otherwise.”
“What about you?” I search his face. “Can you live without being Nikolai Romanov, Russian assassin?”
“Yes,” he says simply, but it can’t be that simple.
“Why?”
“Because I can’t live without you,” he says softly and I swear my knees turn to jelly. He brushes my hair back. “I can’t live without my sunshine.”
I bite my lip. “I can’t live without you either.” It’s the truth. I can’t expect him to be honest with me, if I can’t give it to him in return. “But what about your shop, your name... I have your cat, by the way.”
He throws his head back and laughs. “I bet she still doesn’t like you.”
“Not one bit.”
Giving me a side-glance, he asks, “How would you feel about living here? There’s a house off Page Avenue that’s for sale. I put in a counter offer today.”
“That’s my house.”
A knowing gleam enters his blue eyes. “Really?” he says in that clipped accent I love.
“You’re the idiot?” I gasp in pure shock.
He nods. “It would seem so.”
“No, no that. You’re the house idiot—ugh. I’ll explain later.” I shake my head. “You’ve been planning this the entire time. Did my parents help you?”
“Perhaps.” He grins. “Your father and I have had many talks over the phone about the proper way to court a southern lady. I am expected at church service, and then Sunday dinner tomorrow.”
“How did you convince them?”
“Everly, I’m charming when I want to be,” he says cockily, reminding me of his cousin.
A light bulb goes off. “Benjamin helped you, didn’t he?”
He shrugs one shoulder. “Perhaps.”
“Tell him thank you.” I kiss him lightly on the lips. “I have a massage to cancel. Want to come with me, and then we can get out of here?”
“No.”
My face falls.
“I’m the one giving you the massage.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Actually, I was supposed to wait, knock out the original masseuse, changes clothes, and surprise you.”
“Glad you changed your mind. I’d rather our reunion not be in jail.”
We start walking to the entrance of the spa, hand in hand. “It’s hard to think differently.”
“But I’ll try,” he adds quickly. “For you, the woman I love and adore, I’ll try anything.”
Stopping, I wrap my arms around him and stand on my tiptoes. “I love you, Roman Smith.” I kiss him. “Nikolai Romanov.” I kiss him again. “New identity I don’t know, yet.”
“It’s Roman Smith,” he says.
“Why?”
“Because that’s the name that brought us together.”
EPILOGUE
THE CONFESSION
Three years later
Every Wednesday, at precisely four o’clock, Everly Smith enters my bookstore to pick up her latest package of romance novels.
Our son holds out his chubby arms as soon as he sees me. He’s all of fourteen months old and keeps his mother running from sun up to sun down.
“Papa! Papa! Missed you,” he shouts, and I hold out my arms.
“Nicky, Nicky,” I shout back playfully. “Missed you, too.”
As soon as Everly puts him down, he runs to me and I grab him, throwing him up into the air. He trusts me to catch him on the way down. And I do, every time.
Sticky kisses cover my cheek. “Go play with Uncle Ben.”
“He’s in the back.” I set him down, and then yell for my brother. He moved to Asheville a little over a year ago to attend the university here and work for me. Though he doesn’t need to financial, emotionally, I think he needed the normal life—the college experiences and the chance to be a kid. Something neither of us ever had.
“Got him,” Ben shouts. “Fist bump, little man. Let’s go play a new game.”
Everly comes to me, then, her emerald eyes shining. “How’s business?”
“Slow.” Boring. Tedious. But there’s no way I’d admit that to her. There are times I crave the adventure my life used to be, but my new life, with Everly and our son—the world does not possess enough treasures for me to give it up.
“Yours?”
“Fun. Exciting. My newest client’s store features crocheted beards for dogs and cats to wear. “ She rubs her hands together in obvious glee. “They’re selling like hotcakes. I think I’ll get Miss Fancy one.”
The woman always did have a way of finding the most extraordinary people. “Excellent.” I kiss her on the nose. “Wonderful.” I kiss her cheek. But before I go any lower, the bell above my door rings and I straighten.
A man I’ve never seen before walks inside. “Mr. Smith,” he says in an English accent. “Mr. Romanov requires your services.” He nods at Everly. “Providing that Mrs. Smith is agreeable to the terms. He said that there is no one he trusts more.”
My hands curl into fists at the compliment and the enticement. “I no longer provide those services.”
The man smiles. “You’ve never provided these services.” He hands Everly a book. Frowning, she opens it and scans what’s inside.
A moment later, she looks up at me, excitement in her eyes. “You need to read this.”
Taking the book from her, I read over it. “A duchess has been kidnapped? I thought Sebastian to be an earl.”
“You are correct. But his good friend, Liam Stewart, is the one in need.”
“I think you should do this,” Everly says.
“Absolutely not.”
“Is it dangerous?” This she asks of the stranger.
“Potentially, but honestly, all they want is money. You would facilitate that, and bring the duchess to the location specified in the document.”
“And that’s all?” I ask. This is too good to be true.
He nods. “Your family is welcome to stay at Mr. Romanov’s London townhome while you are... busy. In any case, you have six hours to get back to me. My information is also in the document.” He tips his hat to Everly. “Madam.”
The bell ring once more as he leaves.
“She’s right, you know.” Ben appears, holding Nicky in his arms. “I’ll go with her and little man. Watch over them while you do your thing.”
“My thing.”
“You know.” Everly turns her hand into a mock gun. “Peuw. Peuw.”
Slightly affronted, I begin to defend my guns and the sounds they make. “No.”
“Yes.” She marches to me. “I went into this relationship knowing what you used to do. I never wanted you to stop, if that’s what you had to do—I only wanted you to be honest with me and say what you were doing.”
“Roman Smith,” Ben says. “Shopkeeper by day. Retrieval Expert by night. I quite like the sound of that.”
“Well, then by all means, I must go. Proper title and all that.” I roll my eyes at him. “I cannot, in good conscience—”
Everly places a finger on my lips. “Do you want to save the girl or not?”
I pull out my phone and call—I glance at the business card stapled to the document—Mr. Caruthers. He answers on the first ring.
“Have you made a decision?” he asks pleasantly.
“Tell Mr. Romanov I’d be delighted to help.” I hang up. It feels as though everyone’s eyes are on me. “What?” Anticipation runs through me, twining with excitement. “I figured it would be nice to be the hero for once.”
My wife lets out a little sigh. “Roman, you have always been the hero of our story.”
*** *** ***
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Acknowledgements
I have so many people to thank while writing this trilogy, and therefore my acknowledgements remain the same.
Special Thanks to Autumn, Andrea and Amanda—The Triple A-Team. I don’t know if they know I think of them like that, but I do. You guys are awesome and amazing and out of sight (wait, that didn’t start with an a, but you have to know what I’m talking about, right?!)
Big Breakout the Handcuffs Thanks to Andris Bear and her husband for schooling me on police procedures while being the best crit partner evah.
Like Whoa Thanks to Carly Phillips for her uncanny ability to nail characterization every flipppin’ time. You are inspiring!
Thanks to my fans for being the best fans evah. I couldn’t do this without you.
Last, but never least, I have to thank my family for putting up with me and supporting me. I love you guys! xo
New York Times Bestselling Author, Marquita Valentine, writes sexy heroes and sassy heroines that make you swoon and laugh. She’s the author of the bestselling contemporary romance series, Holland Springs, and the new adult romance series, Boys of the South.
Marquita met her husband aka Hot Builder at Sonic when they were in high school. She suggests this location to all of her single friends in search of a good man—and if that doesn't work, they can console themselves with cheesy tatertots. She lives in North Carolina in a very, very small town with Hot Builder and their two children.
www.marquitavalentine.com
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The Confession Page 7