Chapter 24

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Isabella

That night, I dream fitfully. The greatest threat against us may be gone—for now—but I know as well as anyone that the battle ahead is what really matters.

I wake up every few hours. I place my hand on the flat of my belly and sip from the glass of water that Lev put on my bedside table. I rustle in bed and feel the weight of his hand on my side.

I should be angry with him—should be fucking furious. And maybe I am, somewhere deep down below the surface. I'll give myself space to feel, to process, and to deal with whatever happens. At least I didn't expect this to be all sunshine and roses. But right now, all I feel is… relief.

Javier is gone.

And while he might have some who are still loyal to him—and we will weed every last one of them out—he has no power over me anymore. Over any of us.

I hold my belly. It's too new, and I'm not far enough along yet to make it feel real. But I have to admit… I don't feel the way I thought I would.

I told him I didn't want any children. I told him I didn't want to be a mother. But now that it's happening, I'm surprised to find it doesn't feel like the death sentence I thought it would.

A baby. Children. Maybe a little girl who has her daddy's eyes and my spirit. Perhaps a little boy with that dimple in his cheek. Here, in the Romanov family, my children will have people who love them. Aunts and uncles, a grandmother and cousins… a father who actually wants them and a mother who will do anything for them.

I swipe at my cheeks.

I can run the Los Sangre Dorada and have a family, too.

Right?

"What are you thinking?" Lev's voice is rough and husky in the early morning quiet. He gives my ass a playful swat. "You should be sleeping, woman."

"So should you," I retort. I sigh and close my eyes. Nestle my ass closer to him. He groans and hugs me tighter. A shiver of pleasure washes through me at the warmth and weight of his arm over me. I don't need a man to protect me, but damn, does it feel good having one who will.

"Sleep, beautiful," he says softly. "We have a ton of shit to do tomorrow."

And the day after, and the day after.

I close my eyes. Wordlessly, he runs his fingers through my hair. Tension seeps out of my body with every gentle stroke. I missed him. I want him.

I'm totally madly in love with him. I focus on my breathing. My rapid heartbeat gradually begins to slow. I close my eyes, and I fall back asleep.

When I wake hours later, the bright light outside my window tells me it's well past sunrise. The smell of bacon and coffee wakes me up. I stretch my arms overhead and sit up in bed, waiting for a wave of nausea. Thankfully, I feel mildly queasy, but that bacon smells like heaven.

I stretch and put my feet on the hardwood floor, the memory of what happened the night before plaguing me.

I should feel more remorse for killing my brother. It was brutal, it was savage… and it had to happen. I knew it did. I'd practiced for that moment for years, and when the time came, I did not hesitate.

But that doesn't mean I liked it.

The door to the bedroom creaks open. Lev stands there, shadowed in the doorway, a silhouette against the frame.

"Morning," he says in that deep rumble of a voice that makes me shiver.

"Morning." I stifle a yawn.

"Coffee?"

"You know it."

A beat passes where the silence hangs between us, and neither of us moves. We have so much to say that it seems words fail us.

Then both of us talk at once.

"I should be pissed at you?—"

"I fucked up—" His voice is choked. Repentant.

"I know why you did it, but you shouldn't have?—"

"I did what I thought I had to, but?—"

"Maybe having a baby isn't the worst thing?—"

"I love you."

Well. That does it.

I stare at him, dumbfounded. "Guess you just pulled the ace. Dealer takes all."

The corner of his lip quirks up, but then he sobers. "I promise you. I'll be the best husband and father I can."

I swallow the lump in my throat. I can't speak above a whisper. "You already are."

I reach for him as he crosses the room with his big strides, invading my space and pushing me back. I welcome the weight of his body on mine. I cherish the taste of his lips. I sigh, sinking into this one stolen moment of peace and forgiveness, such rarities in families like ours.

He tangles his fingers in my hair and gathers my wrists in his strong, rough hands.

"I've missed you," I murmur, my body waking up as if he waved a magic wand in front of me. My pussy tightens, and a low hum of need vibrates through me.

"I've been right here."

I reach for him and pull him over to me. We roll over together. Slowly, our clothes fall to the floor in a heap until we're stripped. I revel in the hard planes of his abs and the broad expanse of his shoulders. The way he looks at me as if I'm the most precious person in the world.

The heat of his gaze, dark and intense, never leaves mine as he lowers himself on me. The warmth of his skin sears mine, every touch a promise. His mouth on mine underscores the way he feels about me and my response acquiescent… to us.

My breath catches as his hands roam over my body as if committing every curve and angle to memory. I stifle a moan when his fingers trace the curve of my breasts, my peaked nipples, easing me closer as I arch into him, a silent plea for more.

His hand spans the full length of my back as he holds me to him, and his lips trail a path down my neck. Pausing at my collarbone, he nips the sensitive skin before continuing his journey lower. Every kiss he bestows on me feels like a silent plea for forgiveness. Every sigh I release is a step closer to surrender.

My hands find his back, my fingers digging into the firmness of his tattooed muscles, pulling him closer. The tattered remains of my resistance fall away like ash, gone with the hint of a breeze. Here, it's just us, lost to the world. Lost to the differences that divide us and the friction between us. Here, we become one.

When his mouth fastens on my nipple, I gasp, and my hips rise, crying for more. I relish the dark, utterly masculine sound of his chuckle against my skin.

"Not yet," he rasps, the low reverberation of his voice trailing down my spine.

I stifle a moan as my nerves light up under his touch. I'm trapped in a whirlwind of contradictions—I want this to last forever, and I want him in me now . I want to fight and feel him overpower me, and I want to submit and melt into him.

He spreads my legs with a knee, the hard length of his erection pressed into me, a reminder that he sees all of me and he fucking loves what he sees.

That makes two of us.

He rises on one elbow and slides his free hand through my wetness, finding my clit and circling it slowly while his mouth closes on my nipple. I arch and moan. "Lev," I beg, need choking me. He slides through my core, his thumb pressed to my throbbing clit.

"Patience," he growls.

I bite my lip to stifle a whimper.

I've never surrendered to a man in my life.

I've never wanted to.

But in that moment, it takes all the strength I have to calm my frantic need to be filled by him and reunited, and instead, melt into the rising well of arousal and desire.

I slide my hands up the length of his powerful body. He positions himself above me and holds my gaze for a long moment before he enters me in one swift, perfect, satisfying thrust. I cry out, lost in pleasure. We move together as one, united and unafraid, the only people left on earth. Every thrust binds us, every breath we draw a fusion.

As my pleasure builds, he quickens his pace, pushing us both to the edge. I rake my nails down the length of his back, clinging to him, lost to sensation, worshiping his body and giving him mine. I love the way he grips my hips as if I'm not close enough and he needs me closer.

The seconds before climax are heaven. With a final, claiming thrust, we both fly into ecstasy. I scream out his name, waves of pleasure crashing through me. He groans in pleasure as he spills into me.

My hands flatten on his back, and he holds me to him. We lie there, still reeling from the enormity of mutual surrender and shared bliss.

I run a lazy finger over his shoulders, now damp with the effort. He buries his face in my hair and inhales.

As we slowly come back to reality, our duty lingering before us, he presses his lips to my temple. "I love you."

I swallow the lump in my throat and nod. "I know."

He laughs out loud and shakes his head. "You never fail to surprise me."

I ruffle his hair and pull him to me, kissing the rough stubble of his cheek. "Good. You need a little more excitement in your life." I sigh. "And I love you, too. But I really, really need to eat something and use the bathroom, and I'm worried about what happened while I was sleeping."

It's time to go to Colombia.