“Not very long,” he says, his gaze shifting to the debris-covered marina. Most of the fire has been extinguished by local firefighters. A few boats are scorched on the sides, with melted paint and railings. “But at some level, I think I knew the entire time.”
“Katerina did not raise you?”
“Nyet. I lived with her sister’s family until Grandfather came to get me.”
Her sister’s family. Not my aunt and her family. That is very telling. “They did not treat you well?”
“They treated me like a dog,” he says, his eyes clouding over. “A dog that was only good for kicking and throwing scraps at…among other things.”
My fists tighten. Ben was younger than I was when he first came to Grandfather’s. There was no way he could have defended himself.
He laughs, but there is no mirth in it. “Calm yourself. They’ve been taken care of.”
“How?”
The look he gives me chills my soul. “Computers aren’t the only thing I know how to hack into.”
There’s no need to tell him to stay away from the path I’ve been traveling. He’s a man on his own road. The only way he’ll veer to the right or left is by his choice alone. “This is good to hear.”
“No lecture?” he asks lightly.
I cock a brow. “Only if you left evidence.”
His mouth thins. “I left nothing.”
I adjust my cuff links. “Everly is safe. And home. No one will bother her ever again.”
“So.” He shrugs.
“So?”
“You don’t care about her, not beyond this guilt-driven need to keep her safe, because if you did—”
Incensed, I jump to my feet, planting my hands on the table. “You know nothing. Nothing of what I feel for her. You’re nothing but a nineteen-year-old zhopa who knows exactly shit.”
That familiar grin of his kicks up the corners of his mouth. “Go to her, bratan.” Brother.
My anger slowly drains away and is replaced with pride. “Blyad. I have no reason to go to Asheville.”
“Not even to personally deliver her last book order?” he asks innocently.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Everly
One month later
“I miss Roman,” I inform Miss Fancy. Despite everything, his betrayal in sending me home, I miss him. I love him.
Not that it does me any good. Apparently, I have a penchant for loving the wrong man. At least the first one wasn’t an assassin with family ties to the mob.
But had my ex-boyfriend, Jared, ever made me feel like Roman? Had Jared ever risked everything to keep me safe?
The cat looks at me for a moment, before hissing and swatting at me. I jump back, wagging my finger at her. “Behave, else I’ll take you right back to Mrs. Tatum, and you’ll have to live with all the other cats.”
Miss Fancy twitches her tail and marches out of the room.
“Stupid cat,” I mutter. “Should’ve left you there.” I never should have gone back to Raleigh, but I had to give my notice to my landlord and pack up my things. There was no way I could continue to live there, not when he was never coming back.
My mother walks into the living room. “Want to ride with me and take your daddy lunch?”
I jump at the chance at getting out of the house. “Sure.” Grabbing my purse, I follow her to the car. “What time does he get off?”
“About the time I have to go in.”
My parents have worked at the Grove Park Inn for over twenty years—my mother as an events manager and my father as head of valet services. They love the place—the history, the décor, the people, the way the hotel is decorated for Christmas…everything.
“I’ll make him supper, Momma. Don’t worry.”
She gives me a smile as we get in the car and back out of the driveway, then head for the Inn. “That’s sweet of you, honey. But your daddy can make his own supper. Maybe you can find something else to do.”
If that isn’t southern for you need to get a life, I don’t know what is.
“Have you found a place yet?”
Except for that. Silently laughing at my mother’s not-so-subtle hints, I nod. “Next week I’m signing a contract on the cutest house off Page Avenue.”
“Is that where the new brewery’s going?”
A new brewery springs up about every five seconds in this town. “The one from out west—yes.”
“Hmm.” Her lips thin. “I just don’t know about that area, Everly.”
I sigh. She wants me out of the house, yet she doesn’t approve of where I want to live. Typical mother. “It’s perfectly safe.”
“It’s lacking in social activities.”
Trust my mother to think of that. “There’s always downtown.”
Instead of answering me, she turns up the radio and we listen to bluegrass the rest of the way.
After parking in the employee section, we head inside and find my dad at his office, speaking with a guest over the phone. “White, Ford F-150. Yes, ma’am. Give us five minutes.” He hangs up the phone, radios one of the valets with the ticket number, and then grins.
“My two favorite girls in the world.”
“We brought you lunch.”
He stands, giving my mother a kiss on the cheek. “You do spoil me.”
My mother blushes and waves him off. “You do the same to me.”
“Guys, I’m still here.”
My dad snorts. “How do you think you got here, young lady?”
Now I know how Ben felt when Roman and I got all kissy-faced. “Stork?”
My mother touches my arm. “I have a surprise for you.”
“You do?”
“I arranged for you to have a massage in the spa. It’s in about twenty minutes, so why don’t you go on down there and relax in the sauna.”
For no reason at all, other than the fact that her gesture is sweet, I tear up. I hug her. “Thank you.”
She pats my back and then smooths my hair down. “Your father and I have been talking about how stressed you’ve been. So we wanted to help.”
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 rocks and flowing water. Every so often a soft sheen of light highlights 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, ready to apologize. 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.
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 mouth, stifling my scream.
“Holy crap!”
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 with cuff links, and creased trousers. Black tattoos on his hand. His hair dark and 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 give me books?”
He nods. “You love books, especially by Zoe Ambrose.”
“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 wit
h 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. It feels like I’ve waited an eternity for the dense man to admit it. “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?”
“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 him honesty in return. “But what about your shop, your name…and I have your cat.”
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 an offer today.”
“That’s my house.”
A knowing gleam enters his blue eyes. “Really?” he says in that clipped accent I love.
I gasp in pure shock. “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 I said 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 going to wait, knock out the original masseuse, change 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 of such things 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
Two years later
Every Wednesday, at precisely four o’clock, Everly Smith enters our 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 sunup to sundown.
“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 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 financially, 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. They’re selling like hotcakes.”
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 before 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.”
I read the coded message inside and decipher it for Everly. “A duchess has been kidnapped. Her husband is willing to do anything to get her back alive.”
“You get to rescue a real duchess?” she asks.
“It would seem so.”
“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?”
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 rings 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?”
Everly turns her hand into a mock gun. “You know. Pew. Pew.”
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. What with a proper job title and all tha
t.” 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 the number written on the front page of the book. A familiar voice answers on the first ring.
“Have you made a decision, then?” 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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About the Author
Marquita Valentine is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author of contemporary romance.
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