Soldier Mine (Sons of War #2)(28)
The hearth beside the tree combines with the soaring ceilings and wooden beams, the windows lining one wall and the plush, comfortable looking furniture to create a home within a home. This one is friendlier than the formal rooms we passed on the first floor. There are signs of wear on the faded leather couch in front of the television and a stack of games on the coffee table. The common area is divided into four distinct sections necessitated by its sheer size: the television watching area, a section for conversation or maybe naps on long couches, the Christmas tree and fireplace section, and a portion including three desks with computers and various other electronics.
I feel myself smile. I like it here. I can definitely see a family spending snowed in days in the area four times the size of my apartment sandwiched between the two wings of the mansion.
“You like it.” Petr’s gaze is on me.
“Yeah.”
He leads me to the hearth. The fire counters the chill emanating from the bank of windows facing the snowy lawns behind the mansion.
“You just need a blanket and cup of tea, and it’s perfect,” I murmur, sitting on the couch.
Releasing my hand, he sits close enough for our thighs to touch and drapes an arm over the backside of the couch behind me. Propping his feet up on a fat ottoman, he relaxes.
I’m tense, not sure what to expect from him or what he might expect from me. The crackling fire is magical, soothing my fear and warming my skin while Petr’s nearness warms me from the inside.
Petr’s attention is on the fire, and he’s still, as if he understands I’m fighting an internal battle. He’s giving me space to do so, and I sense he won’t be offended if I get up and sit on the chair instead of beside him.
I probably should. But attraction to his muscular frame, mixed with the knowledge he genuinely likes me, causes me to experience the ache again, the yearning to be normal or at least, to believe this temporary moment might be less fleeting than my usual relationships with people.
A few minutes of peace can’t hurt. I can do this.
Heart pounding, I take a deep breath and lean back beside him, shifting to put my feet up on the ottoman with his. Our bodies are in contact, and he wraps his arm around my shoulders briefly to position me against him better. His arm then returns to the back of the couch.
We sit in silence, which I desperately need right now. I’m fighting the impulse to flee. Not that I want to. I’m comfortable around Petr, but this scares me more than if I weren’t. Comfortable means letting down my guard, and that terrifies me.
He’s warm, his sweater soft. His woodsy cologne combines with the scent of the fireplace to remind me of being around a bonfire in the forest. My panic gradually wears off, in part because I’m so full, the dancing fire is making me drowsy. Sliding down a little farther to rest my head against the back of the couch, I sigh.
“You okay?” he asks when I settle.
I’m not sure how he knows about my struggle or whether I should be embarrassed it’s noticeable or grateful for his patience. “I think so. Are you?”
“Yeah. Rough day yesterday.”
I twist my head over my shoulder to gaze at him and rest my cheek against the couch. My turmoil is one thing, but I can’t bear the thought of him being likewise troubled. “Why?” I ask before censoring myself and then rush on. “Sorry. None of my business.”
“No worries.” He mirrors my position. Our faces are close enough for me to see the fine lines around his eyes when he smiles. “This time of year is rough. It’s the second Christmas without my brother. In twenty-nine years, we had never been out of contact longer than a month or two.” The shadow is back in his gaze, a sorrow so profound, my throat tightens in empathy.
“I can’t imagine losing Todd,” I whisper. “Everything I do is to protect him.”
“You have to remember to live for you, too.”
“It doesn’t feel possible.”
“Believe me – I know. But it is.”
“I wouldn’t know how.” I give an uncomfortable laugh and look away.
“You started this morning,” he points out.
“Maybe.” I won’t tell him I’m not sure what I’m doing here. “How can you help so many people when I know you’re hurting?”
“Misery loves company.”
I laugh. “No, really. My first reaction is to run.”
He shrugs. “I always run towards the battle. I try to do things that would make Mikael proud. He gave his life for mine, and I will honor his sacrifice by being the best person I can be and helping improve the lives of those around me.”
He makes it sound so simple, and I sense for him, it is. Helping others, running towards the burning building, never retreating from a challenge … these are instincts I don’t have. My focus has been self-preservation and the safety of my brother.
“I wish I could be more like you,” I murmur.
“You’re beautiful the way you are, Claudia. A little damaged, a whole lot scared, but beautiful.”
How he manages to hold up a mirror to my flaws, and I still have the need to stay right here, close to him …
It begins to sink in that Petr is like no one I’ve ever met before, that I might already be in deeper than I thought possible.
“Okay, good,” he says softly. “I didn’t scare you off this time.”