Page 254 of Lethal Obsession

“Perdon.”

We pull apart to find Masha staring solemnly at us both. Without speaking, we draw her into our embrace, and for a long time, there’s just the three of us again.

“I love you, ’Felia,” Masha whispers inside our closed circle. “If anyone had to marry Lexi, I’m glad it was you.”

“Thank you, myshka.” I kiss the tumbled curls beginning to escape her dancer’s bun. “But I promise you, part of his heart will always belong to you.”

Masha lifts an insouciant shoulder, her eyes dancing. “I know,” she says with customary hauteur. She kisses me coolly, then runs to Alexei, who lifts her from the ground, turning her around and around until she laughs aloud.

“We’ll see you soon?” Darya smiles at me through the tears that have flowed through every speech, particularly Papa’s.

“Of course you will.” I hug her hard. “And I’ll call every day, I promise.”

“I highly doubt that.” Zinaida laughs, kissing my cheek. “Congratulations, Ofelia,” she murmurs. “I’m so glad this is how it worked out.”

Papa envelops me in a bear hug. “Be safe,” he says, shaking Alexei’s hand behind my back. I smile at the thinly veiled warning in his voice.

I make my way slowly through the crowd, accepting kisses and congratulations from everyone.

By the time Alexei finally closes the door behind us, the Quantum Drift has never looked more appealing.

I stand by the railing of the yacht, looking back at the party lights on the cliff. Alexei’s arms slide around my waist, and I cover his hands with my own. “I think I like our party better from here.”

“Me, too.” His lips on my neck make me shiver.

“You know we don’t have to sail anywhere. We could stay at anchor so you can be close to Lars—”

“No.”

His voice is low against my ear, his lips continuing their languorous trail along my skin. “There are phones. Computers. Boats. Helicopters.” He begins to bunch my dress in his hand, and I melt against him. “But for at least one week, unless the entire world is going to hell, I don’t want to be interrupted by a single one of them.”

“Only a week?” I turn in his arms, and he captures my mouth, kissing me long and slow, like there’s no hurry in the world.

Which there isn’t.

“Oh, we’re sailing for more than a week.” He starts to pull the pins out of my hair, one by one. “In fact, I plan to keep you on this yacht and to myself for as long as humanly possible.”

I link my hands behind his neck and close my eyes, savoring the relief as he slowly dismantles my elaborate hairdo. “And then?”

Not that I care.

“And then whatever you want, angel. Wherever you want.” His lips curve against mine. “So long as it has a comfortable bed, a piano for you to practice on, and high-speed internet.”

My hair tumbles free, and he gathers it in his hands as he takes my mouth again, thoroughly, until I’m breathless and squirming against him, then he steps back, leaving me hot and wanting.

Barefoot in suit pants, his tux open at the neck to reveal scars and ink, he looks as hard and dangerous as he ever has—and I’ve never wanted him more.

“Do you remember the first night we were up here together?”

Lust, pure and hot, bolts through me. “I remember.”

“You didn’t want to wait.” His lone eye glitters in the distant light. “And you didn’t want to go slow.”

Oh.

“But you know what we’ve both learned, angel?” He slowly rakes my body, lingering on my breasts thrusting beneath the silk. He slides one of the thin straps from my shoulder, smiling darkly when I gasp. “That going slow just means more time to savor the journey.” He slides off the other strap, and the slip falls to the deck, leaving me standing in nothing but crimson lace half-cut knickers.

He steps back, regarding me with such lazy lust that my insides curl, my breath coming short.