And that was the kill shot.
Nikolai swung his hockey stick and the puck went right into the goal. No matter what the damaged girl who still lurked inside of Sam was trying to tell her about the chances of someone like Nikolai loving someone like her… when she thought about it, really thought about it, she could no longer go on believing this man who had killed for her, who had protected her in every way, who had fulfilled her every need—even the ones she didn’t know she had—did not love her.
As Nikolai would say, of course he did.
She looked at him with tears and wonder in her eyes. So afraid to believe after all she’d seen and been through that the man sitting next to her was really offering her a happy ending. But…
“You love me?” she asked. Her heart trembled, as did her hand when she reached out to cup his cheek like he’d cupped hers a few minutes ago. “You love me like I love you?”
He immediately covered her hand with his much larger one, and pressed his face further into her palm, as if her touch, and only her touch, could soothe the wild hurt inside him.
“Zhena, zhena…” he said, his voice cracking with emotion. “How you not know?”
She had no idea, and tears began to roll down her face because she was so ashamed. Ashamed of not guessing it sooner, of cutting their trip short.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for not realizing.”
The apology was barely out of her mouth before she was in the air, being ferried across the cabin in Nikolai’s fireman carry and through the door to the neglected rear bedroom. His manner was urgent, but when they got to the bed, Nikolai set her down gently, once again unbuttoning her blouse, this time with great care, before he stripped out of his own clothes.
Sam watched him get naked with heavy anticipation, all the while her mind screaming like a teenage girl, “He loves me! He loves me! He really loves me!”
As if reading her mind, he said, “Da, I love you, zhena.” Then he crawled into the large bed and covered her body with his before bracing himself above her on one arm. “But I must get inside you now. Please, I beg you.”
To his credit, he waited for her answer, keeping his hard length still at the entrance of her once again very slick folds.
“I want you inside of me,” she answered. “I love you so much, Nikolai. Please—” She didn’t have to finish her own beg. He reached down between them, and then…
Sam threw her head back with a moan. He was inside her. So thick and heavy, she could actually feel the pulse of his member against her inner walls. He rolled into her, carefully at first, until he found a rhythm that kept the stem of his cock against her clit as he thrust into her.
It was good, so good. Even better than before, because she didn’t have to bite her tongue about the way he made her feel. “I love you so much, Nikolai. So much. I’m sorry I didn’t realize…”
“Muzehnek,” he said harshly into the back of her neck. “Call me muzehnek when you say you love me from now on.”
“I love you, muzehnek,” she repeated, though she still had no idea what that word actually meant. Her heart soared into the sky. It was if she’d had a rubber band around it for all her life, and now Nikolai Rustanov had finally set it free.
But the words didn’t have the effect she expected. Instead of going all out, Nikolai came to an abrupt stop, reaching out to cup a hand around her neck, anchoring it so she could look at nothing else but his grave face as he said, “I love you, too, zhena.” Harsh and low, like he’d never been more serious about anything in his life. “You believe me, da?”
She nodded, too choked up to answer with words.
But Nikolai wanted the words. Seemed to need them as he insisted, “You believe me and you will stay with me? Always?”
“Da,” she whispered.
A happy smile spread over Nikolai’s face like sunshine on a gloomy winter day. It felt like that one word from her had made him the happiest man on earth, and that in turn made her feel like the luckiest woman in the world.
He started moving again, filling her deep and tight, as he silently drove himself into her, his hand still cupped around her neck. No more words were exchanged after that, and eventually they fell over the edge together, in silent communion, as an ocean of complete and utter ecstasy washed over them both.
He kept their bodies connected for as long as possible, bracing himself above her, and gracing her lips and neck with tender kisses until he finally went soft inside of her. Even then, he didn’t seem to want to let her go. He lay down, still holding on to her, even as he positioned himself behind her. He settled a hand over the gentle swell of her stomach, as if he were sheltering both their child and her in his large arms.
And Sam had to blink back more tears. She was still having trouble processing all of this. That she had somehow stumbled into a loving relationship with a man who understood her on the deepest levels, a beautiful man who forced her to communicate with him through mind-blowing sex—
“I will never call you Samantha,” he said behind her. “Never again.”
“What…? What changed your mind on that subject,” she asked.
“Pavel told me reason. About your stepfather calling you by that name. I don’t care if it sounds like I love another man. I will only call you Sam in future. Sam or zhena.”
She was going to get Pavel something insanely nice for Christmas this year, Sam decided. Like his own pony. Or maybe a trip to Disneyworld.
“Thank you,” she whispered in the dark.
“Please do not thank me for this. Of course, I would do this for you.”
He asked nicely, so she didn’t thank him again. Instead she gave thanks to Pavel and whatever other spiritual force had decided to bless her with this man.
The sky had darkened outside the plane’s small window, leaving the little room dim, with only the barest hints of sunlight. Sleep began to drag at Sam’s eyes,
But there was still one thing she had to know before she let her inner dreams take over the one she and Nikolai had created in the real world.
“What does ‘zhena’ mean?” she asked. “Is it some really cutesy term of endearment? Like flower, or honey, or kitten?”
His unfamiliar laugh sounded then, a deep rumble against her back. “Do you remember what I said to you when you come to my door on our wedding night?”
You do not want me to call you Samantha, and I do not want to call you by boy’s name. I will have to simply call you ‘wife’… Come in, Wife.”