Chapter 34 Morning After
Anya woke to the smell of sandalwood and the warm weight of an arm around her waist.
For a long, blissful moment, she didn't remember where she was. The bed was soft, the sheets were warm, and she felt more content than she had in weeks. Then the memories flooded back, the library, the leather chair, Dima's hands and mouth and the desperate, glorious way they'd come together.
She opened her eyes.
She was in Dima's room, on his bed and in his arms with his bare chest pressed against her back.
Panic flickered, then faded cause she'd chosen this, chosen him.
But what came next?
She turned slowly, carefully, not wanting to wake him. He was asleep, his face relaxed in a way she'd never seen. The hard lines of control were gone, replaced by something softer, younger. He looked almost peaceful.
Her heart clenched.
This man, this complicated, dangerous, loving man had given her more than she'd ever expected, trust, partnership and pleasure but in the cold light of morning, questions swirled.
Was this real? Would he still want her now that the heat of the moment had passed? Could they go back to being partners, co-conspirators, after what they'd done?
As if sensing her thoughts, Dima stirred. His arm tightened around her waist, pulling her closer. His eyes opened slowly, unfocused at first then sharpening as they found her face.
"Anya." Her name was a soft exhale, warm with surprise and something deeper.
"Good morning."
He stared at her for a long moment, as if checking that she was real. Then, slowly, a beautiful smile spread across his face.
"You stayed."
"I stayed."
He reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. His touch was gentle, reverent.
"Last night was.." He paused, searching for words. "I don't know how to describe it."
"Neither do I." She covered his hand with hers, pressing it to her cheek. "But I don't regret it, do you?"
His eyes widened. "No, God, no. I've wanted you for so long, I just.." He hesitated. "I didn't want you to wake up and wish it hadn't happened."
"I don't." She kissed his palm. "I'm just... trying to figure out what happens now."
He was quiet for a moment, his thumb tracing her cheekbone.
"Now, we get up, go and have breakfast and we pretend nothing has changed." His voice was steady, but she saw the conflict in his eyes. "We have to, Anya for now."
"I know." She sat up, the sheet falling away. She grabbed it quickly, pulling it to her chest. "It's just.."
"Hard." He sat up too, reaching for her hand. "I know but we have the bank to deal with and the second part of the Key so we can't let anything distract us."
She nodded, forcing herself to focus. "What time?"
"Ten o'clock. Maxim will be with my father at his meeting. We have a three-hour to do whatever we want to do." He squeezed her hand. "We can do this."
"We can do this." She repeated the words like a mantra.
They dressed in silence, stealing glances at each other. Every look was charged now, weighted with the memory of last night. When Anya reached for her sweater, Dima caught her hand, pulling her close for one last kiss.
"Tonight," he murmured against her lips, "we'll talk tonight."
She nodded, pulling away reluctantly.
In her own room, she showered quickly, dressed in the approved clothes, and stared at her reflection in the mirror. The same grey eyes looked back at her, but something had shifted because she looked different, more alive and certain.
She touched her lips, still tingling from his kiss.
Whatever happened next, she wouldn't regret last night.
But breakfast was going to be torture.
The dining room was already occupied when she arrived.
Nikolai sat at the head, reading his newspaper as usual. Evelyn was beside him, looking pale but composed, her eyes carefully avoiding Anya's. Irina was there too, her dark eyes sharp with observation and Dima sat in his usual place, a cup of coffee before him, his expression carefully neutral.
Anya took her seat, murmuring greetings. The server appeared with juice and toast. She focused on her plate, not looking at anyone.
"Anya, you look tired," Nikolai observed, his steel-grey eyes fixed on her. "Didn't sleep well?"
"I slept fine." She kept her voice level, "just excited about the day."
"Excited?" Evelyn perked up slightly, "what's happening today?"
"Dima's taking me to the city," Anya said, the lie smooth on her tongue. "Shopping for the gala next month."
"How lovely." Evelyn's smile was fragile but genuine, "you two have been getting along so well."
Across the table, Irina choked on her orange juice. She covered it with a cough but her eyes were dancing with amusement.
Dima didn't react, his face was a mask of polite attention.
The meal continued in stilted conversation, Nikolai talked about business while Evelyn nodded along. Irina made occasional comments that seemed innocent but carried hidden meanings and Anya lost in thought.
Under the table, she felt it.
A foot, hooking gently around her ankle. It was warm, possessive but his.
Her breath caught, she didn't dare look at him or react but her skin tingled where he touched her, a secret connection in the midst of the performance.
The foot stayed there throughout the meal. A constant, quiet reminder that whatever happened at breakfast, whatever masks they wore, last night was real.
When the meal finally ended, Nikolai stood, patting Evelyn's shoulder.
"I have meetings all day, Maxim will be with me. Dima, you'll handle the Henderson call?"
"Of course, Father."
"Good." Nikolai's eyes swept over Anya, lingering for a moment too long. "Enjoy your shopping."
He left. Evelyn drifted away, her attention already elsewhere. Irina shot Anya a knowing look before disappearing toward the conservatory.
Anya and Dima were alone.
She stood, gathering herself. "I should get my things."
He moved closer, not touching, but close enough that she could feel his warmth.
"Anya." His voice was low, private. "What I said about pretending, it's just for them but out there…" He touched his chest, over his heart. "it's real, you're real."
She looked at him, this man who had held her in the dark, who had kissed her like she was precious, who was now claiming her ankle under the breakfast table like a brand.
"I know," she whispered. "I know."
He nodded, stepping back. "In ten minutes the car will be ready."
She walked away, his warmth still lingering on her skin.
In her room, she pressed her hand to her chest, feeling her heart race.
Today, they will take the next step of getting the second part of the Key which will bring them closer to freedom.
And tonight, they would talk about everything.