Drake Sisters 03 - Oceans of Fire

every fiber of his being, every emotion in his heart. Anger and lust and mostly love, all mixed together so he couldn’t separate them. Abigail Drake had given him his soul and then she’d walked out of his life and taken it with her.
    “Oh, my,” Inez Nelson said. “Don’t look, ladies. These young people have no sense of decorum anymore.”
    Abigail pulled back, trying to flatten herself against the wall, her gaze jumping to Aleksandr’s. She tried to make herself smaller in the hopes no one would recognize her. A chorus of giggles followed Inez’s declaration.
    “Abbey! The ceremony is working!” Carol shouted gaily and waved.

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    Color crept up Abigail’s neck into her cheeks. She didn’t look away from Aleksandr, even when she knew she looked guilty. “It certainly is, Aunt Carol,” she replied and was mortified when she heard whispers and another chorus of laughter, which meant her aunt had explained just what the ceremony was all about.
    “What ceremony?” Aleksandr asked.
    “You don’t want to know,” Abigail said. “Do we absolutely need to go in there? You have no idea how bad those ladies can get.”
    He smoothed back her hair. “I think I’ll have to hear all about this ceremony that has you so worried.
    Come on, let’s go in before things really get out of hand.”
    “Were things getting out of hand?” Abigail was acutely aware of Aleksandr’s palm burning through the thin material of her tank top as they walked up the ramp to the wraparound deck leading to the bar entrance. Her lips were swollen from his kisses, her skin tender from his five o’clock shadow. Her body burned, every nerve ending alive. The red panty ceremony was a killer and she was planning on blaming her response to him entirely on that. “I thought things were moving along nicely.” With no responsibility she could be as bad as she wanted to be. And she wanted to be very bad.
    She went through the door as if in a dream, greeting so many familiar faces, waving at old friends, hugging a couple of the older women, a smile on her face, and all the time fear was creeping into her mind, drowning out lust. She could live with lust. She could live with his kisses and his body and be perfectly happy if she could walk away unscathed, but as she weaved her way through the crowd with Aleksandr so close, she realized she was standing on the edge of a great precipice. One wrong step and she would be lost forever.
    She had never stopped loving Aleksandr Volstov. Not ever, even when she hated him and was so angry she lay awake night after night in her bed with her fists clenched, thinking up endless tortures for him. She had known all along if she were alone with him she’d be kissing him, wanting to see his gaze grow hot, feel the heat of his skin. She had thought she was so angry she could wrap it around her like armor and be protected, but her love welled up unwanted and scared her to death.
    “Is something wrong?” He worked his way through the crowd, protecting her from the crush with his larger body as they made their way toward the smaller, more intimate tables at the back of the room.
    It was impossible not to remember how he did that, the small things, making her feel so safe. So loved.
    Abigail turned her face away from him, wanting to weep with the memories of what she’d lost.
    “Abbey.” He curved his arm around her waist. “Tell me.“
    “I’m too afraid to love you again, Sasha.” She made the confession in a low voice. The lump in her throat nearly choked her. “I can’t lose you a second time. I can’t lose myself a second time. I’m just not that strong.” It hurt so much she couldn’t explain, couldn’t find words to describe the razor sharp cuts still so raw in her heart.
    Aleksandr drew her closer, moved onto the dance floor where he could safely hold her. He kept to the shadows. The tears shimmering in her eyes broke his heart. She fit so perfectly, her body moving with the rhythm of his, her face buried in his shirt.

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    “Let the past go, baushki-bau , you have to let it go or we’ll both lose. My life is better with you in it.
    Your life is better with me in it.” His chin nuzzled the top of her head as his arms enfolded her close. “If you reach out to me, just a little, Abbey, we can make it.”
    She shook her head, denying