“Tell me, little sister,” he paused at the door, as if thinking of an idea suddenly. “I have been thinking. I would like to think I know Roman very well, so let me ask you this. Does he ever respond in Russian when you say you love him?”
A pang of hurt lanced through her chest, and she shook her head, thinking of all the times she confessed her love and waited desperately for him to say it back.
Frowning, Dimitri stared up at the ceiling for a moment, practically ignoring the silent guards standing next to him. “He never says anything?” he pushed.
“No,” she sighed wishing he would move on from the painful topic, it was starting to feel like salt on a wound. “Like I said he never…” she paused as she thought of something.
Dimitri looked at her expectantly.
Feeling a little shy as she thought of it, she spared a glance at the guards and leaned forward, closer to Dimitri. “He does whisper a saying in my ear while we…while we make love.”
Smirking, Dimitri lifted one eyebrow. “Can you repeat it?”
Twisting her mouth into a frown, she did her best to repeat the angry sounding language. Thankfully, Dimitri did not tease her, but he did make her repeat it a few more times until she could see the light of comprehension brighten his blue eyes.
Giving a satisfied nod, Dimitri reached out and captured her by the elbow and gently pulled her close until he could lean close to her ear—and whisper.
The whispered words stayed with her for the rest of that night. They robbed her of sleep and filled her with anxious anxiety. Dimitri had told her that in order for his plan to work, she must not for any reason answer or make any calls to Roman or Mosca. But the words, those damn words Dimitri told her fluttered through her head, driving her mad with impatience and filled her heart until it felt as if it would explode.
She was standing at the balcony door watching the sun rise over the desert city when the door to her room opened with an unexpected force. Jumping, Rahina turned around, and her heart clenched at the sight of Roman’s seething figure staring at her with murder in his eyes.
She didn't jump, however, as he slammed the door close with such a force, she was positive that broke something. She simply watched him as he stomped across the room and stopped a few feet away.
“Why in the fuck…” he began in a snarl.
“Say it,” she cut him off, ignoring his bewildered look to her interruption. “Tell me that phrase you always say to me in bed when we make love.”
Roman’s eyes widened for a moment, the murderous gleam that was there seconds ago fading to something intimate and warm. Stepping closer, he closed some of the gap between them before stopping again. He gave her a long considering look before giving into her demand.
“слова не могут описать мою любовь к тебе,” He repeated the familiar words, his tongue rolling and enunciating the foreign words like rough-hewn whispered poetry.
Her heart was drumming wildly in anticipation. “Now say it in English," she demanded.
Again, he stepped forward this time, closing the gap between them completely, her body instantly succumbing to his presence and leaning into his. “Words cannot describe my love for you.”
Holding a hand over her mouth, she willed her legs not to buckle under the pressure. Dimitri was right, he had been saying it to her all along, even before she confessed her love to him.
“You love me, dammit,” she managed to whisper past the knot of emotion in her throat. “Why? Why tell me you don’t want to be together? Why, when we love each other?”
“I didn’t say I did not want to be together dammit, I said we should not," he groaned into her hair as he leaned down to kiss her neck. “And I told you we would talk later!”
Rahina could feel his thrashing heart in his chest and wondered what happened before he got here. Did he find any more answers about what happened? Though all that could wait, there were far more pressing matters to deal with. Leaning back, she glared at him and jabbed a finger into his chest as she spoke.
“Don’t you dare get mad at me for needing a bit of space after you made me feel like you were leaving me!”
“Space—Rahina?!” he gestured around them with incredulous anger. “You call running to Las Vegas with Dimitri, fucking space?!”
“Roman if you yell at me one more time, I am going to slap you,” she threatened, meaning every word of it. She would slap that big gorgeous face so hard, and then she would kiss him until they both died of asphyxiation.
His look of shock mutating into exasperated anger was satisfying she thought.
“You are so fucking annoying,” grabbing her chin her angled her face up and kissed her roughly, before pulling away. “Before meeting you, I was fine dammit,” he ran an agitated hand over his short dark hair before settling it back down to her back in comforting strokes. “I was walking the line of my sanity, but I was making it, but you had to come barging into my life. You pushed me over the edge and showed me what life could be. And I refuse, Rahina, I fucking refuse to go back. Rahina my love,” he gathered her somehow closer to him. “I would tear this world apart around us if that meant keeping you by my side. This type of madness you forged inside of me could only be called love,” cupping the sides of her face Roman gave her a grin that silently washed all her worries away. “Of course, I love you, Rahina. For the past two nights, I have already announced to the world in bloodshed our life long union; and till death do us part,” he whispered evenly hovering his lips above hers, “you aren’t going any-fucking-where.”
Rahina shuddered and looked up to him with wide excited eyes. “That was so romantic, why couldn’t you just say that back at home?”
Laughing Roman picked her up and buried his face into the soft expanse of her breasts and walked them carefully to the bedroom.
Fin
Epilogue:
Staring at the wedding photo on his desk, Roman absorbed every detail of his wife’s beauty captured on that day nearly two years ago. It was a candid shot of them as a couple and by far his most favorite shot from that day. Dressed in her traditional red Bengali wedding gown, dripping in gold jewelry from her head, nose, hands, and to her feet, Rahina was breathtaking. Her tall bejeweled figure had silenced everyone at the ceremony as if the presence of a god had made itself known. In the photo, the photographer had captured him staring down at her with a look of pure love, a look even he had never known he could make. But it was the image of Rahina, holding onto him and leaning back with laughter that made the photo priceless.
Fuck, he loved her.
His office phone beeped, and his newly appointed captain’s voice, Mosca, came through. “She is here, and on her way up, now.”
A few seconds later, his office door opened, and Roman stood at the sight of his mother in law. With her naturally stern face, Deeya Chopra gave him a dubious raise of her brow as he met her in the middle of his office.
“I still do not understand why I must meet you all the way down here for you to tell me whatever it is…”
Crossing his arms, he interrupted her practiced disapproving rant. “Do you want to hear it or not?”
Closing her mouth, she gave him an incensed stare before nodding firmly.
Smiling, he watched her face as he spoke. “Remember, this is between you and me only, in regards to the unholy pact we made years ago.”
The confusion on her face only made this sweeter. Currently, Rahina was out shopping with his sister Vera, making this the perfect opportunity to meet with his mother-in-law uninterrupted. Pulling out a laminated black and white photo, he handed it to the woman.
Staring at it for a few seconds, Deeya did not react.
Slowly, like the rising sun, she began to react to the sonogram in her hand, and for the second time since meeting her, Roman witnessed the same smile her daughter gave out freely on Deeya Chopra’s face.
“Triplets!” she squealed in pure joy before throwing her arms around him and hugging him.
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From the Author:
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Just a girl staring out the window lost in her thoughts.
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"When everything seemed to be at its darkest, he came into her life and rescued her."
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