Chapter 114: 114

“Because I’ve decided it isn’t,” he growls. “When she’s of age, she’ll be able to make the decision herself. If she wants to be a don, she can be. If she wants to be an artist, she can be. If she wants to be a spy or a waitress or a fucking circus clown, she can be. I will not stand in her way.”

I stare at the fierce confidence burning in his eyes. The cold isn’t so cold when Daniil looks like this. He really does mean it. Because unlike his father, or my father, his love for Isla isn’t transactional.

It’s real.

I think about how I can convey to Daniil how much that means to me. I go through a dozen different versions of ‘thank you’ in my head, but none of them seem deep or strong enough to convey the depth of my feeling.

So I just kiss him instead.

And when my lips fall against his, flush and wanting, it feels like the only way to explain to him what it means to me that he would put Isla ahead of his ambition, his legacy.

He doesn’t kiss me back right away, but I can feel his body respond to mine. His arms tighten around my waist and his erection against my thigh is undeniable. My hands are still curled around his jaw, and they slide up his face as the kiss deepens. This is the only warmth I need, and it feels much too good to end.

But he does end it. Abruptly. His eyes are alert and filled with concentration that I don’t immediately register. “Daniil, what’s wrong?”

“Someone’s coming. Or something, maybe.”

“What?” I balk. “What kind of something?”

And that’s when I hear it. The sound of something snorting and snuffling along the path we climbed down to get here. It sounds big. Rocks skitter down the hill and leaves crunch under its feet.

I’m paralyzed with cold and fear. But Daniil isn’t. If he’s ever been dumbstruck a day in his life, I can’t possibly picture it.

“Come on,” he says, moving towards the edge of the river and pulling me with him.

He leaps out of the water and tows me up after him. We dress hurriedly in the dark. My teeth are chattering again, worse than before, and my fingers won’t work right to pull up the zipper on the dress or fasten the buttons.

Above us, the sound of the animal or whatever it is grows louder. Closer.

“Stay with me, Kinsley,” Daniil breathes in my ear. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Then he takes my hand, and we run.

The moment we get back into our cabin is sweet relief. That’s all I can register. The heater is on, so everything from the spiced air to the warm rock floors have a toasty heat that siphons the chill from my bones.

We both make a beeline for the bathroom, pulling off clothes with the same fervor with which we’d pulled them on. I don’t bother stripping off my thong before I step into the shower and moan against the beat of hot water on my skin.

“Oh God,” I moan as I sink to the floor and curl my knees up against my chest, eyes closed. “God, that feels good.”

It takes me several more minutes before I’m warm enough to think coherently again. When I open my eyes, I expect to see Daniil.

But he’s nowhere in sight.

“Daniil?” I whisper as loud as I dare without waking Isla, but he doesn’t answer.

I turn the water off, run a towel over my body, and pull on one of the bathrobes hanging on the wall. I find Daniil on the balcony, bare-chested but showing no sign that he feels the cold.

“Feel better?” he asks casually when I step out, as though we hadn’t just kissed in the middle of a freezing river right under the mouth of a waterfall and then ran from a bear or Bigfoot or something in between.

“More or less.”

“Good.” He falls silent.

Oh, so that’s what we’re doing? Pretending like all of that never happened? I suppose I could get on board with that, if it weren’t for the fact that my heart feels like it’s about to jump right out of my chest.

Don’t address it, Kinz. Just ignore it. He doesn’t want you and that’s okay, that’s for the best, that’s—

“Daniil.”

Stop it! Stop it right now.

He turns his eyes on me. Says nothing.

“About the kiss…” His eyes find mine and just like that, I have no fucking clue what I was about to say. “Let’s just… forget it ever happened. I think that’s—”

“Whatever you want, Kinsley. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

I linger. Please ask me to stay out here with you, I beg him silently. Please don’t push me away.

He doesn’t smile. His eyes look far away, contemplating a future I have no part in. I hate that I don’t know exactly what he’s thinking. I hate that I can’t determine if that kiss meant as much to him as it did to me.

If he asks me to stay, it means he cares. That’s all I want. Just proof that he cares. That he’s capable of caring.

But then a cloud passes over the moon, and everything goes dark, and still, Daniil says nothing.

I retreat inside and go to sleep.

Alone.

22

KINSLEY

“What is wrong with you?” I mutter to myself.

I’ve been pacing for the last thirty minutes, since the moment I said goodnight to Daniil, walked into the bedroom, and shut the door.

Finally spent, I collapse onto the bed, face first. I wish Emma was here. Or, if not that, then I wish I could call her so that I could try and talk through my convoluted feelings.

This is probably the longest we’ve ever gone without talking. It feels weird. Like I lost my pinky finger ages ago, but I’m only just now realizing how crucial that little digit is to my life. I’m off-balance without it.

I roll over onto my back and gaze up. The dark ceiling stares back at me, offering me nothing but ice-cold silence.

But I’ve had my fill of the cold today.

It doesn’t take me long to figure out that I’m not going to be able to fall asleep. Not anytime soon. Not when I know he’s out there, my kiss still fresh on his lips.

My unfinished kiss on his lips, rather.

It makes me wonder: did he break the kiss just because fate sent a bear to ruin what could’ve been a special moment? Or would he have pulled back anyway? I don’t know why I need to know—it’s not like it would change anything. Either story ends with a broken kiss and a lonely night.

But I do want to know. I just do.

I lie there for another few minutes, trying to imagine what Emma would say if she were here.

You have feelings for him, you idiot. So go out there and tell him.

You have a chance at a real family. So why not go for it?

Don’t be so scared of getting hurt. They wouldn’t call it “falling in love” if it was safe and easy. They wouldn’t call it a leap of faith if you could stay on your own two feet while you do it.

But even my best impressions of Emma came up short. I can’t be sure if that’s what she would really say, or if maybe that’s what I need her to say and I’m just putting the words I want to hear in her imaginary mouth.

I push myself upright. My body is moving even while my mind starts to stutter and protest. What are you doing? it’s asking me. Where are you going? Now, hold on just a damn sec—