Beneath the Ice Ch. 06

"I should think not." Charlotte let out a soft laugh. She never wanted to make light of his lack of family, but he was so matter-of-fact about it all the time.

"So you'll go to dinner, and you can talk about what you've done in your life since you last saw her."

"I don't know that she'll care."

"She wouldn't have invited you to dinner if she didn't."

He had a point. Theresa had admitted herself that she hadn't known how to bridge the gap between them, all those years, the missed life events, the ignored phone calls. In all honesty, Charlotte wouldn't have known either, if their positions were reversed.

"I think it's a good thing to have family, lyubov. Zoe would benefit from having grandparents and an aunt and uncle."

"I know." Guilt pricked at Charlotte when she considered keeping her distance from Theresa or her parents. Should she have tried harder to connect with all of them, for Zoe's sake?

"And you will as well, even if you can't see it yet."

"I don't need them." She didn't mean to sound indignant, even as guilt continue to claw at her. "Not like I used to."

"Maybe, maybe not. Try to give it an honest chance though."

Charlotte huffed and settled on her back again, staring at the glowing circle of light cast by her bedside lamp on the ceiling. "When did you get so wise?"

His deep chuckle settled in her veins, warming her all the way through, even from so far away. "I don't know about wise. I only want what's best for you and Zoe."

"And you think me reconnecting with my family is what's best?"

"I don't know, not for sure. You won't know until you all talk about things, about everything. After that, you can decide if it's healthy or right to stay connected. All I'm saying is give them a chance."

"All right. I can do that." And she meant it. Maybe it would work out and they could all become a real family again and Zoe could have more than Charlotte could offer her on her own.

"What's that hockey saying?"

"What?" He sounded so confused at her non-sequitur that she giggled.

"That quote." She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to recall. "'You miss one hundred percent of the shots you don't take'."

Alexei made a noise of acknowledgment. "Wayne Gretzky."

"Yeah." Charlotte smiled. "I'll take a shot."

"Good girl."

Oh, hell. That shouldn't fill her with such sudden and instant heat as it did. She sucked in a breath and couldn't think of a single thing to say in response.

As if sensing it, Alexei let out a deep chuckle and there was more rustling, like he was shifting in bed. "Are you my good girl, lyubov?"

Charlotte swallowed hard. "Yes."

"Can you keep quiet?"

"Quiet?"

"When I tell you the things we'll do when I come home."

"Yes." She was at his mercy. Always. Especially now, when his rough, accented voice filled her head, flooding her with visions of his lips and hands on her body.

Her last thought when she drifted off to sleep later, her skin warm all over from what he'd done, what he'd told her to do to herself until he could return, was that she could live without her family, but she was long past being able to live without Alexei.