Maelstrom

Chapter 44: The Magic Word

His eyebrows drew together as he studied my face. "You know," he remarked. "I'm now realizing that I've never been able to really look at you in decent lighting."

That didn't sound exactly great. Instinctive panic had my emotional walls rapidly rebuilding themselves, leaping block by block back into place from the pile of rubble they'd become last night, like a film of a building's destruction played in reverse. "Hopefully you're not seeing anything too alarming," I quipped.

He ignored that. "You have the most extraordinary eyes." I lifted a pale blond eyebrow in disbelief. "I know it sounds like a line, but in your case, it's true. They're like ... ice, or aquamarines, except for those little flecks of gold around the pupil." His brow smoothed as he smiled again. "I don't think I've ever seen any like them, not in person, at least."

My god, he was dangerous. I felt stripped bare before him, in ways far more profound than being completely naked beneath his body. And as good as that felt – and it felt unbelievably, indescribably good – I had to remind myself that I was still undercover, and he was still a criminal.

"You must not know many Scandinavians," I dismissed the compliment awkwardly.

"Don't do that," he admonished me lightly. "My mother's family is from Denmark; I've seen plenty of Scandinavians in my life." He pulled a long strand of my flaxen hair through his fingers. "If you're going to be spending any amount of time with me, you're going to have to get used to me telling you how beautiful you are. Often."

I didn't know what to say to that, so I kissed him instead. From the passion with which he returned it, I guessed he was satisfied with my response.

I broke off the kiss with a light nip of his lower lip. He looked at me in amusement.

"Я думал, что ты русский (I thought you were Russian)," I said.

His eyebrows shot up almost to his hairline. "Вы говорите по-русски тоже? (You speak Russian, too?)"

I laughed at his reaction. "Not really," I admitted. "I only know how to say a few things; I just started learning."

His eyes narrowed. "Why are you learning Russian?" he asked quietly.

My heart thudded to a halt and I felt my beatific smile freeze in place. Because my lieutenant implied it might be useful in eavesdropping on you was definitely not the response I was looking for. Why did I do that? Was I trying to impress him? I felt the color rise into my face.

"I guess I was hoping one day to see that look of complete surprise on your face," I answered.

His face split into a devilish grin. He quickly kissed both of my flaming cheeks and planted another bruising kiss on my lips. "You can practice with me anytime. I hardly ever get to speak it nowadays."

He jumped up out of bed suddenly and for a moment I thought he was, perhaps, truly angry with me after all. Still, I drank in the sight of him standing gloriously naked by the bed. The thought that this might be the last time I saw him like this was too cruel. He held out a hand and pulled me up next to him. He gave me another playful kiss and a squeeze on the ass before pulling me across the room to what turned out to be the bathroom. I hesitated.

"Don't worry," he said as headed to the bedroom door. "I'll use the other one. I remember – you have a shy bladder."

That was a relief. I was already way outside my comfort zone walking around a man's apartment in nothing but a birthday suit; I definitely wasn't ready to be peeing in front of him.