“If you’ll give me one too. I do need to learn to be more patient, just like you said.”

He eased closer. “I know I’m not right. But if you help me, I can be better. That’s what I want. Natalie, understand me: I’m . . . asking.”

I was already reaching for him. When he swung me over to straddle his lap, I wrapped my arms around his neck. Against me, his body shuddered as if a weight had been lifted from him—like an overworked muscle finally allowed to rest.

I whispered, “You let me in.”

He could only nod.

“Please don’t shut me out again. As long as you talk to me, I’ll never leave you.”

“I’ll do whatever it takes.”

For what might have been hours, he held me like this. “Sevastyan, what happens now?”

In a voice hoarse with emotion, he said, “Now we go home.”

Epilogue

The Moskva River was almost frozen.

From the pavilion, I watched otters frolicking on blocks of ice. I’d seen a stoat, several hares, and a snowy owl. They were all thriving in these bitter temperatures—a damp cold even more biting than I’d known in Nebraska.

The pavilion was one of my favorite places on the property. I would come here whenever Sevastyan was working.

All around me, Berezka was covered in snow, pristine. Which helped me to forget the fight to the death by the boathouse, the war for control that had raged over these grounds.

Paxán’s untimely death.

Seamless white reminded me that wounds heal.

Though Paxán’s grave site was beautiful—a clearing atop a hill, surrounded by birch trees—I felt closer to him here.

His funeral had been somber, attended by so many who’d loved him. In front of others, Sevastyan hadn’t allowed himself to show grief. Later that night, in front of me, two tears had slid down his face, which might as well have been a thousand for a hardened man like him.

Every day that passed we could think of Paxán with less pain. I was thankful that I’d gotten to spend even that short amount of time with him. In just weeks, he’d changed my fate forever.

His dying wish had been fulfilled: my life was better because he’d been in it.

I glanced over and saw Sevastyan striding toward me, his long charcoal coat whipping about his legs; my heart sped up at the sight of him. I knew that it always would.

The winter sun caught his face as he neared. To look at him now, I would say he’d found some measure of peace. He appeared younger, that weariness I’d first sensed in him lifted. He smiled more often, and I could even make him laugh on occasion.

“Ready to go in?” He offered his arm for the walk back to the main house. We’d redone my wing for the two of us, moving his things from his house on the property.

“All set.” I took his arm with a gloved hand, glancing up at his flushed cheeks and brightened gaze. Sigh.

Over the last month since we’d returned, Sevastyan had been able to disentangle Paxán’s legacy from mafiya concerns; then he’d taken over as vor, though in a scaled-back capacity. Now he focused on protection for Paxán’s territory and people.

And, damn, did the job of protector suit Sevastyan.

“Your gifts for your mother and Jessica arrived from Buccellati today.” Boxes of extravagant jewelry.

Okay, okay, so the money was growing on me.

For Christmas, Sevastyan and I planned to visit Nebraska. I could only imagine what my family and friends would think about my ex-enforcer.

“Thanks for letting me know about the presents,” I told him with a grin. I was pretty sure he sometimes talked just to make some kind of mental “word quota.” I razzed him about that all the time. “Have you thought any more about your brothers?” I’d floated the idea of Sevastyan calling them on Christmas, a tentative start toward something more.

“I . . . haven’t ruled out anything. Though Maksim might think I’m leaning toward his proposal.”

“You have a point.” While I was angling for a mere holiday call, Maksim was angling to unite his might with Sevastyan’s and take over, well, Russia.

Sevastyan hadn’t agreed to anything, but his rivals had caught wind of the potential alliance and backed off considerably. Which meant he didn’t have to work so much.

Maybe he could leave his post this spring and take me around the world?

Or perhaps I’d enroll in school over here. No surprise: I hadn’t decided yet.

One thing I was certain of? I was determined to make this winter different for him, to have him associate it with our warm bed, our wicked lovemaking, and our hopes for the future.

“Oh, before I forget, Jess has kind of called dibs on your old place. She wants to fly back with us after the holidays.” And she might’ve vowed never to leave. As she’d put it: “If I get to live in my own mini palace, Imma be one borscht-eating bitch.”

“Then it’s hers,” Sevastyan said, surprising me. “As long as I get you to myself during the nights.”

“You’ve got yourself a deal, Siberian.” For the first time in his life, he was enjoying the long nights. We swam together, read together, and played chess by the fire. Or we tried to. Last night, we’d scattered the pieces when he’d tossed me atop the board to have his way with me.

Never had a queen been so happy to be taken.

Often, we talked into the night as he shared more of his burdens. With each one, I marveled at the loving and honorable man he’d become. He’d also been telling me all about Paxán, and I could see the kindly clockmaker’s hand in guiding him.