Chapter Five

Chapter Five

Jamie

Walking into the front door of the villa is like walking into Catherine’s palace where the Romanov family lived, it most certainly looks as if royalty lives here with it’s red painted walls and gold colored trim. As soon as you walk in, there is a large, wide set of stairs with a red carpet, and golden colored railings. The outside looks very modern, but walking in feels like I have been set back in time with the Crystal chandelier sitting above the center of the stairs. The decorative candle sticks sitting on either side of the railings, and marbled checkered red and white floors. It’s absolutely magnificent, I feel like I am visiting a King in the mid 1800’s.

“I know it’s a little behind the times. My father liked it that way, and I've never cared to change anything about it.” He says, looking a little lost as he examined the home, as his men come in from behind taking our bags up the stairs.

“I think it’s beautiful to be quite honest. I was just thinking I feel like a princess visiting the king.” I tell him trying to make him feel better, he doesn’t need to explain the decorations in his house. I’m surprised to even hear that he seems to have had such a good relationship with his father..

He smirks a little at my statement, something I rarely see him do.

“Did you get along well with your father?” I ask curiously. He turns to look at me with a strange look in his eye.

“Of course I did. What kind of question is that?” He says, sounding a little annoyed. Isn’t that a normal question to ask? After glaring at me for a second, he turns away from me, still seeming a little put off.

“I think it’s time I show you to your room.” He says before I can answer back. I fold my arms, and scowl at his back as he retreats up the stairs. I don’t understand how that question was so out of line. I didn’t mean to get too personal with him, he seems to know things about my life that I apparently don’t, why would that be so hard to answer a question like that?

I follow him hesitantly, dragging my feet as much as possible, while sulking silently at his rudeness towards me. I know it’s not my right to know anything about his life, but you would think he would have been more subtle about it.

When we get to the apex of the stairs, there is a large door that you see right when you get to the top, in the hallway.

“This door leads to the upper level of the back patio, you’re welcome to go outside as much as you want. Down stairs there’s another entry to the lower level, where there's a pool house, and sitting area. The pool house is heated, along with the pool, I would just make sure you take all that you need to make sure you can come out dry. I don’t want you getting sick.” I roll my eyes at his assumption that I wouldn’t have the common sense to do that.

“ If you go left down the hall, there's a library, and a gym. There are no gyms you can take a taxi cab to around here, or within a good driving distance, so I don’t want to hear you sulk about having to use the home gym. Olivia will be showing you around more efficiently after dinner. There are places you have no business being in this house….and I say that with grave seriousness….” I roll my eyes again, no home gym, forbidden to roam, that meant that I am practically a prisoner again….

He gives me a dark look for a split second, but then carries on with his tour.

“And down the hall to the right is our rooms. My room is at the very end of the hall, it’s the one with the double doors. You will be using the one right next to mine, I’m sure you're tired, and in need of a shower, so do what you must. Olivia will be cooking us dinner at seven. Moscow is seven hours ahead of New York City, so it’s already almost dinner time. You can get some rest till then. If you need me I will be in my room.” And as if he can’t get away from me fast enough, he immediately departs down the hall to his room.

“Thanks so much for the grand welcome.” I say quietly to myself. I take a big breath, and go down the hall to my room with my arms folded firmly across my chest, watching the door at the end of the hall already being closed shut. How uncomfortable is it to be in a place where you're obviously only tolerated. He definitely doesn’t want me here, he just needs an escort to this stupid “gathering” or whatever it is, and I am the most convienent thing he could think of.

I finally reach the end of the hall, where Damian’s door is facing me, and two doors are on the right and left of it. He never said which one, maybe it doesn’t matter. I look between the two doors, starting to feel like an idiot. I should probably ask him, I don’t want to use a room, or go in somewhere I’m not supposed to. Maybe one is locked?

I immediately reach my hand to turn the door knob on the left but it easily turns, so I turn to the right and try that one, also not locked. I should just go in but what if someone else is staying here, I don’t want to barge in on someone…. maybe I’m just overthinking the fuck out of this….

That’s it! I’m asking him….

I quickly knock on the double doors pretty loud, and stand there with my arms crossed for a good minute before I start to get really impatient. I reached my hand down to turn the knob, and it immediately clicked open.

“Hello.” I yell before stepping inside the seemingly dark room but there is no answer. So I bravely step in, leaving the door open behind me just in case I have to run. I hug myself extremely tight, feeling really nervous, I don’t quite know how he is going to react to me just coming in his room . It's super dark, but the little light shining into the room shows me there is a large bed with a dark colored bed suite. There is no one laying in the bed, meaning at least I didn’t wake him up.

“Roman?” I say not much louder than before because I feel so uneasy.

“Yes Jamie? “ I turn around and jump ten feet landing on the perfectly made bed, that is until I jumped on it.

He steps into the sliver of the light from the door, with only a towel wrapped around his body, the water droplets in his hair, and all over his body glistening, and dripping slowly into the fold of the towel, and down his thick shoulders, and the rivets of his muscle, and abbs. Dear mother of all that is holy….I am such a perv!

“I'm so sorry….oh my god...I just didn't know which room to go in…I-I will leave now….” I say about to remove myself out of the bed, and dart out of there as fast as I can. But he’s much quicker.

He’s suddenly leaning over me, his hands on each side of me, trapping me from getting away.

“Roman what are you doing?” I ask, putting my hand on his chest hoping to keep as much distance between us as I can.

“I’m sorry….it’s just I have imagined you in my bed so many times, the only difference is you're not scared like a mouse trying to get away.” He says to me in a whisper, making me tense up, and breathe rapidly.

I can’t be doing this….I just can’t

“Roman...please...stop….” I say hesitantly, afraid to look anywhere but his eyes because there is no way that towel didn’t fall with the way he is leaning over me. He looks at me hungrily, and with a mystifying presence about him.

“Of course..” He says removing himself from atop me,, with the towel still surprisingly around his waist.

“You can go in either of the rooms. It doesn’t matter. As long as you stay close.” He seems angry with me as he turns his back . He is absolutely covered in tattoos from the shoulders and on down. His sex appeal is hypmotiszing, I honeslty would let him take me right here, if I still wasn’t so conflicted about you know who. Sex has honestly never been a a big deal to me like it is to most women. Sex feels good, and that’s all their is to it. But ever since Marcel, I have found I feel a little differently, and I hate to admit that.

“Are you angry with me?” I ask him. I don’t want him to hate me, it’s not like I haven’t taken a liking to him, I just can’t let it get any farther than that. Not because of who he is or what he does. I’ve grown past that. Just that I don’t know that anyone will ever make me feel the way he makes me feel….

“That’s the fucking problem isn’t it Jamie?” He raises his voice, coming out of the bathroom with a pair of black slacks on, and still no shirt, making me jump a little again.

“What problem?” I ask confused, wanting to run away but I know we need to have this conversation.

“The fact that I could never be mad at you! Ever!” He says storming into what looks like a closet.

“I don’t know what to say to that…” I say stupidly. He comes back out of the closet, in a dark blue dress shirt, covering up all his beautiful artwork.

“You do know that I’m nothing like him right? I’m not broken like him Jamie! I don’t have daddy issues, or mommy issues, and I would never have blamed you for what you had to do a year ago! Ever! And I can give you everything he never would ….and I won’t try to force you to do anything even though you were……” He trails off, and doesn’t finish the rest of his sentence. Before I can say anything he starts again.

“You know what….it doesn’t fucking matter...but I just want you to know that if you are, stop putting him and I in the same category. Stop putting me in comparison to him because you might be blinded by whatever he made you feel at the time, but I promise you will see soon enough that I can make you feel hundred of what he did.”

“Roman..you barely know me...I don’t understand how after a year you are all the sudden having all these feelings.”

“Jamie….you don’t fucking remember me at all…..I know it was long ago but you don’t remember even the slightest glimps of you and I when we were kids….” He says sounding desperate as he bends down in front of me. I just stare at him blankly, not having any idea what he is talking about.

He starts to pull something out of his back pocket. His wallet?

He opens it up and pulls out what seems to be a small picture hidden in one of his compartments, and hands it over to me.

I study the old wrinkled picture of a boy, and a much smaller young girl who couldn't be older than three. The boy who couldn’t be older than four or five was handing the young girl a dandelion, and she couldn’t be more enthused about it.

Wait...that's my backyard back home in Ohio….

“This is me? And you?” I ask. The strawberry blond hair, and my dark green eyes stood out way too much for it not to be.

“Jamie….I have known you your whole life…..I never left, even after your father….I was always looking after you because your father asked my father to. Your brother and you have always been well protected, and your mother……”

“So did you report back to my father that my mother went fucking nuts, and made sure to make my brother and I’s life miserable up until my brother almost died and would have if I wouldn’t have intervened by offering myself up on a silver platter to...him!” I say getting up and pushing him off of me. All I can see is red! My father acted like he didn’t know what she had done to me!

“Jamie don’t walk away from me! Let me explain first.” He says grabbing me by my elbow.

“Let go of me! Now!” I say trying to intimidate him with the way I carry my voice as if I am a threat to him at all….

“Just listen to me, and I will!” He demands of me making me want to punch him straight in his face!

“What! What could your explanation possibly be?” I say jerking free of him, and turning myself angrily around to face him to hear his piss poor excuses!

“Jamie, I left for three years! Your father didn’t know, and neither did I! What we did know about we couldn’t do anything about. You were better off with your mother than running around the country with a contract killer! I couldn’t take you with me to Russia! We thought we were protecting you….we wanted to keep you away from this world for as long as possible. Maybe it was a mistake but at the time we thought it was best! But if I would have known that you were going to come anything close to Marcel Giordano I would have never left you!”

“Just fucking stop! You are still speaking like you care for me, like you know me! You think because you stalked me from afar that means you know me! You all are fucking nuts!” I try to turn away again but he grabs me furthermore but this time by my hand.The heat coming from his hand shot straight through me like a wave. I don’t want him to let go….

He pulls me to him, my body slamming into his, our faces inches apart, his blue eyes staring straight through me like daggers, almost making me forget my anger. I am hypnotized by his mesmerizing azure gaze, it’s as if it’s turning me into ice because I am so frozen.

He brings his hands up to hold my cheeks, after having my face in his grasps for a few seconds he slowly releases but only to start stroking my cheek softly.

“Let me kiss you.” He says bringing his gaze down to my mouth, I instinctively stick my tongue out to lick my lips, as if I am inviting him to put his lips on mine, and maybe I am. In fact I think I want nothing more than for him to kiss me right now.

I think this is the first time a man has ever asked me for permission instead of just taking what they want. And just as soon as that thought surfaced in my brain, I find myself nodding my head yes.

As soon as I give him the okay he delicately but quickly places my chin in his hand, pulling my mouth to his. His lips feel so soft against mine, and so...dare I say perfect? It’s just our lips at first but by the change in his body language, and the way he removes his hands from my chin, and places them on the lowest point of my waist, as if daring himself to go lower, as he starts to deepen the kiss in desperation, I know he wants more.

Soon I feel his tongue intertwining with mine, in a delicious, and graceful tango, it gets more tense by the second as I feel his hands coming up under my shirt, and up towards my bra strap, his fingers softly graze across it sending an electric tingle down my spine. His hands start to travel all over my body, stroking my sides, and all around my stomach.

My brain tells me to stop but every part of my body is telling me to let him keep going, and my body wins.

Just as I’m about to give into him, just as I am about let him go farther….he’s the one that stops, pulling his lips from mine, his minty breath ragged, and fast.

“I do know you Jamie. I know that you don’t like to wear your hair up, I know that you’re an absolute princess sometimes when it comes to things going your way. I know that you love to drink hot tea on the back porch while it rains so you can listen to the sound. I know you will do anything to protect your family. I know who you are, and you have always belonged to me!” When he says the last part, he grabs my face in his hands once again as if to make sure the words sink in.

A year ago when I met him, he scared me, his sporadic behavior, and his what seemed to be unpredictable nature, absolutely horrified me. The way he acted versus that night at the gala, and the way he is acting now, he is not the person I thought he was.

In fact in the year I have gotten to know him he always seemed cold, and distant. Why is he telling me all this now? Is this why my father always talks about Roman to me? Did he know about Roman’s...feelings for me? I need to process all this….I have questions, so many but I’m not ready for all the answers. “I’ve got to go….i’m sorry…” I turn around but he calls my name before I’m all the way out the door.

“What?” I say eager to be free from this room.

“Why do you think I stopped?” I feel my cheeks heat at his reminder that I would have kept going, that he had to stop it before it got to far….I’m seriously a mess of a person.

I don’t answer him and quickly exit the room closing the door behind me.

I am so taken aback by what just happened in that room, and I'm even more confused about how I feel about it. Maybe it’s not that I’m confused but that I don’t want to know what I am feeling…

I don’t know, I honestly don’t but I do know one thing.

I don’t belong to anyone.