Dark Desire by Lauren Smith (an ebook reader txt) 📗

her a moment to gather her thoughts, and she swallowed past the sudden lump in her throat.

“What’s for dinner?” She used her most casual voice as she sat on a stool facing the bar that overlooked the kitchen.

He shot her a sexy look that flared with such intensity that she felt like she was standing in front of an open oven.

“Lasagna. One of my specialties.”

“A Russian who likes Italian food?”

“You like pizza. That’s Italian.” He winked at her, and she laughed.

“You got me there.” She loved the way the loose sweater hung off his muscled form. She fantasized slowly pulling that soft sweater off his body, making love to him, and then wearing it and nothing else . . .

Elena jerked her thoughts back. Damn, the man was dangerous.

“Wait, how did you make lasagna? There’s not exactly a grocery store nearby.”

“I purchased groceries this morning right before I snuck into the Bellagio and got you a cinnamon roll. I stored them in the large cooler in the back of the Range Rover.”

“Oh . . .” She had totally missed the cooler. Well, she had seen it, but she hadn’t given it any thought.

“You are still too skinny. Meat and carbs are what you need.” He set the pan on the kitchen island to let it cool, then turned back to the oven and pulled out a bit of wrapped foil.

“Garlic bread?” she asked. The smell made her mouth water.

He grinned and gave her a wink.

“You are some sort of evil genius. Garlic bread is one of my weaknesses.”

“I know,” he chuckled.

She froze. “What do you mean, you know?”

Dimitri removed the oven mitts and retrieved his briefcase from the kitchen table. He pulled out his tablet, logged on, and then opened something up on the screen and handed it to her.

“We have traveled too far together for this to be a secret.” He let her turn the tablet around so she could see what was on the screen.

She stared at the dozens of photos of herself at various ages. Everything about her life was there—down to her favorite foods and even her grade school report cards. “This . . . this is my life . . .”

“This is only a piece of you,” Dimitri said, as if it absolved him.

She could barely breathe. It felt like a betrayal. “Why do you have this?”

“When I learned of your escape from Vadym, I told Leo to work up a dossier on you. That was when I knew I wanted to take care of you. I wanted to know everything about you so that I can give you what you need.”

It took a long moment for her to process that. He’d been keeping a file of everything about her? Was she okay with this?

“These are only simple facts, kiska. They don’t tell me who you really are.”

“They don’t?”

He smiled, but it was a sorrowful expression. “Childhood report cards don’t tell me anything. I would rather have you tell me what subjects you loved, who your favorite teacher was—the things that matter.” He nodded at the tablet. “The things that define you aren’t in there.”

The old Elena would not have listened to this, but the person she was now had aged a century in the last two months. She could see his side as to why he’d wanted this information and how it wasn’t enough to truly know someone. It was so clear that he was from a vastly different world than she was, where invasions of privacy were seemingly commonplace. She was going to have to get used to that.

“Would you give me one of these dossiers about you?” she asked after a moment.

That mischievous twinkle was back in his blue eyes. “You would like one?”

“Seems only fair. Text that Leo guy and have him make one of you for me.”

“Consider it done. Now, sit and we’ll eat.” He gestured to the table, and she waited for him to bring her a plate. She realized that despite him being a Dom in the bedroom, he loved to serve and care for her. She certainly didn’t mind if a man opened the door for her or brought her food. It was Dimitri’s way of showing respect and affection. That only made him infinitely more irresistible.

She thought back to the dossier, and what he knew about her, while they ate the perfectly cooked lasagna.

“What is your favorite color?” she asked. “And your favorite foods?”

“Orange, the color of a burning flame. And my favorite food is beef stroganoff.”

The mention of the flame reminded her about his ring.

“And the bird on your ring? It looks like a phoenix. Is it?” she asked.

He leaned back in his chair, his hand raised above the table as he stared at the gold signet ring on his finger. He removed it and leaned forward, handing it to her. It was heavier than she expected as it landed in her palm, and she closed her fingers around it protectively. The gold was warm to the touch, and when she opened her hand again, the phoenix emblem seemed almost alive. A hint of letters carved on the inside of the band caught her attention.

“What does it say?” She angled the ring to better read the words. It wasn’t written in Cyrillic, but she didn’t recognize the language, either.

“Luceo non uro. It’s Latin for ‘I shine, not burn.’”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that I do not let the fires of tribulation burn all-consuming—I shine through. And if I must burn, I become reborn into the flames.”

The hair on the back of her neck rose, and Elena shivered as she handed it back to him. “So it is a phoenix. Is that a family motto?”

“In a way,” he replied.

“One of those things you can’t tell me?”

“I’m sorry, kiska.” He pointed at her plate. “Finish, so we can go stargazing.”

“Stargazing?”

He smiled. “It’s part of why I chose this place. It is a remote location, but this state park is also designated an International Dark Sky Park. The high plateau and the distance from city light pollution makes it an