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She stepped into the large glass shower and sighed at the sight of the ocean through the chest-high window. So often when she had been in that dark chamber in Vadym’s office she’d wanted to be anywhere else, even in the middle of the ocean with no chance of seeing land ever again.

Elena placed her palms against the shower wall and let the hot water cascade down her body. This was land. She was safe. No more endless darkness, no more suffocation, starvation, no more drowning in her own head.

It was a long while later when she turned the water off and left the shower. She toweled dry her hair and braided it over one shoulder before she changed into jeans and a light sweater. It was wonderfully warm in California, even in the winter. After the wintry climate of Moscow, she could almost wear shorts, but she had packed only winter outfits for her time in Russia. Her parents had cleaned out her dorm at Pepperdine after she’d gone missing, and all of her summer clothes were now back in Maine. She would have to go shopping, but first, she had to figure out if she could live with a stranger under the same roof.

She found Dimitri in the kitchen, setting plates and silverware on an informal, small dining table that overlooked the patio and the sea. The lightly tanned golden skin on his forearms showed a hint of veins in the defined muscles. Many men didn’t look good in shorts, but Dimitri’s sculpted calves with just a light dusting of hair were well suited for them. Everything about him was athletic, a honed physical perfection that no woman could easily ignore.

“Did you have a good shower, kiska?” he asked. Heavenly smells wafted toward her from the stove and the oven.

“Yes. Why do you keep calling me kiska? It means kitten, doesn’t it?”

His full lips curved into a soft smile that only enhanced the natural seduction of his features. “Yes. It is a common endearment in Russia. Does it offend you?”

She hadn’t expected that question. “No, but you don’t know me enough to have an endearment for me.”

“I know that something has happened to you, something that has left you hurt and afraid. I admit, I am overly protective by nature. Your pain . . .” He paused as though choosing his words carefully. “It calls to me. I want to protect you, as I did on the plane.”

“I . . .” Elena didn’t know what to say at first. “I don’t need protection.”

Again that soft smile confused and frustrated her. “You don’t need anyone, kiska. You’re strong, so very strong. But I’m here if you ever want me.” He nodded at one of the chairs at the table he’d set for dinner.

Elena didn’t move at first. Why did this stranger think he could come into her life and just tell her all this? What she needed was to be left alone. She finally sat, and he returned to the kitchen and prepared two plates, setting one down in front of her.

She stared at the meat, potatoes, and carrots. “Pot roast?”

“You are too thin,” was his only reply before he sat down across from her.

She couldn’t argue with that. Her clothes were almost hanging off her. She had lost so much weight when Vadym had begun starving her. She’d gone down three sizes, and it hadn’t been healthy. Starvation could rob a person of their hair, their healthy immune system, and their muscle. Fat was the last thing to go. During her captivity, she’d been weak, barely able to walk some days, which only gave Vadym an excuse to beat her more.

She’d been free from her prison for more than a week now, and she’d realized that putting weight back on wasn’t going to be easy because she’d lost her appetite as well. It would take time to reach her healthy weight again. Now, though, her stomach felt like an empty pit, and smelling the pot roast caused her stomach to grumble.

“Please, eat,” Dimitri encouraged.

She dug in, finishing all that he had put on her plate.

“Would you like some more?” He stood and took her plate before she could argue and filled it with a second serving.

When she was halfway through that, he finally spoke. “On the plane, you said you were terrified that we wouldn’t leave Moscow. Why was that?”

She froze, her fork halfway to her mouth. She’d forgotten she’d said that. “Uh . . . I was there to study at Moscow State University for a semester and really didn’t want to stay.”

He took a sip of water, and his eyes fixed on her. It wasn’t a threatening look, but there was something more to it than just curiosity. He knew something terrible had happened to her, not that she had any idea how he could know.

Her hand trembled as she reached for her glass of water. “I’m sorry, but I just don’t want to talk about it, okay?”

He nodded. “I understand, kiska. But sometimes when you put words to your pain, it can help you overcome it. We are always more afraid of what we do not speak of than what we face directly.” He stood and carried his plate into the kitchen to wash it.

She expected him to come back to the table and pressure her with more questions. He didn’t. And that made her feel lonelier than she ever had in her life.

3

Dimitri paused just inside his bedchamber, his eyes fixated on the sea just a short way away from the house. He needed to clear his head, get some air, so he changed into a swimsuit. Elena’s pain was strong enough that it threatened to strangle him. As long as she bottled it up, she would never be free of its weight. In the end, it would drown her. Frustration made his hands twitch. This wasn’t something he could fight with his hands. It was something he had to confront with gentleness. It was the opposite of everything he

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