A/N:

All of you blew me away with the feedback from last chapter. I am amazed that you guys enjoy this story so much! THANK YOU! :-)

I got a few questions regarding when Dimitri and Rose are going to get together. I am not going to tell you when, because there is no fun in that, so you'll all just have to wait and see. ;-)

Enjoy!

****Disclaimer: I do not, in any way, profit from this story and all creative rights to the characters belong to Richelle Mead.****

I sat on the black leather couch beside Adrian, sipping a cup of freshly brewed hazel nut coffee, courtesy of Adrian. The sweet smell wafted around me, causing my senses to come out of their sleepy haze.

Adrian's carpet had been replaced, with a vibrant teal color. I would have thought the color was bizarre and tacky in any other house, but Adrian somehow made it look tasteful, expensive. And I'm sure it was.

"So, please tell us once again, Adrian," Christian yawned. "Why it was so important for you to wake us up at this Godly hour?"

"Hey, it's not that bad. I have to meet Dimitri for morning practice in fifteen minutes," I chuckled, taking a sip of my mug. "Consider yourself lucky you don't have to do this everyday."

Adrian frowned at me.

"Oh, well yes…the coffee that Adrian brings me every morning has made my days a lot more…" I paused, groping for the right word to say. "Enjoyable."

He smiled at me.

I smiled sweetly back. "Thanks, Douche bag."

"Guys, just shut up," Lissa clapped her hands annoyed. "Tell us about this reoccurring dream you've been having, Adrian."

"It's about Rose—"

"Of course she would be the mistress of your dreams," Christian snorted.

"I am the mistress of every mans dreams." I winked.

"Behave you two and be quiet." Lissa snapped.

"I'm sorry, babe," Christian leaned up from his spot in her lap to press a kiss to the side of her pale neck, just below her ear. Lissa smiled and ran her fingers through his jet-black hair.

"Forgive me?" Christian stuck out his bottom lip, like a sad puppy.

"I forgive you," She giggled, reaching down to pull his lip between her teeth and bit down gently.

"Come on, you guys!" I gagged and covered my eyes. "Save it for the bedroom."

"Love has no limits, Rose," Christian said."And I refuse—for your sake, or anyone else's for that matter, to limit my love for Lissa to our bedroom. There's just so much to give, why should we deprive you of it?"

"You just think you're soooo clever, don't you?" I scowled.

Christian smiled cheekily and nodded.

"Anyway, after that intelligent conversation…" Lissa trailed off irritably. "Please, everyone, no interruptions—Adrian go on."

"Yes, well," he cleared his throat. "I want you all to keep an open mind here…"

"That's impossible," I muttered.

All three of them glared at me. I made a zipping motion over my lips and pretended to toss it away.

Adrian continued, "I believe that I have inherited my aunts' powers."

"Powers?" I asked.

"Psychic, clairvoyant, spiritual sensor…that type of thing."

"And here I was thinking you had a cool power," I shrugged, "Like X-ray vision, force fields, super strength…maybe even some sharp claws."

Adrian sighed and decided to ignore me, "I have been having these peculiar dreams lately. They're about Rose and this man, at least that's what I think it is."

He squinted, deep in thought. "It's hard to describe it because I am unable to get a very good view—usually my dreams are clearer and easily understood."

"What is Rose doing in the dreams?"

"This better not be anything R rated," I teased.

"Rose, just shut up for a second and take this serious." Adrian snapped, running his fingers through his bronze hair in frustration. He looked tired, aged, irritated. The dark circles under his eyes didn't look good on his nearly flawless face.

"In my dreams…" Adrian looked at me cautiously. "Rose is naked."

I bit my tongue to keep from releasing a comment. Lissa's jade green eyes widened.

"Continue…" Christian said.

"It's not what you guys think; it has nothing to do with sex." Adrian shook his head. "Rose is on a hospital bed, naked. She doesn't move at all, just makes little sounds like moans. And then this man comes up in a surgical uniform, you know, with the blue scrubs, mask, gloves…all of that. It's hard to tell because everything is so bright and blurry."

My heart dropped into my stomach.

Lissa's forehead creased, forming a line. "Is…is that it?"

Adrian shook his head, "No." he paused, "The man keeps talking to Rose, but I am unable to make out his words."

"Hello, my dear…everything is going to be alright. Just take a deep breath and relax."

"He pulls out a syringe and some sort of clear liquid in a vile, and then," Adrian swallowed inaudibly. "He sticks it in her arm. Rose moans…but that's it, she doesn't move. It's almost like she's paralyzed."

I felt a pinch in the fold of my arm. The needle.

A second later, I felt a burning sensation as he injected the contents into my blood stream.

I screamed in agony. The sound seemed to be a little louder than the others. But it still wasn't enough. I couldn't move. I couldn't talk. I could feel pain.

I was useless.

"The doctor slices her with one of those knife things…what is it called, Lissa?"

"A scalpel,"

I felt it cut deep into my skin. A horrible, stinging sensation. A crimson color reflected in his green eyes. My blood, my life line seeping out of me…

"And then there's blood, Rose's blood….everywhere. There's so much of it," Adrian's eyes went unfocused for a moment, reliving the memory. "And then I wake up, covered in sweat and breathing heavily. It's happened every night this week. The same dream over and over again."

I decided not to tell anyone that I'd had a dream that was nearly identical to Adrian's just over a month ago. The only difference we shared was that I could feel everything in my dream: The needle, the scalpel, the foggy haze, the feeling of being trapped in my own body.

"This is crazy," I shook my head. "It was just a stupid dream."

"Many of my dreams have come true before," Adrian said. "That is where my psychic powers sing to me, that is when I am able to tap into my energy— my subconscious mind."

"How can we be sure you're not lying?" Christian asked.

"I dreamed about Meredith before she was murdered." Adrian spoke softly. "Her dream was nearly identical to the one I've been having about Rose—except, it's far more gruesome and I don't wake up until it's over."

A shudder ran through his body, I put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "It's going to be okay, Adrian. I am going to be okay. I'm the kick ass Little cadet, remember?"

He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "I know, Little cadet. You're like a ninja warrior, you could probably beat my pretty face into a pulp if you wanted to. But that doesn't change the fact that I am still concerned about you. At the end of the day, you are still a woman—and although you're stronger than most, you can still be easily over-powered."

"That's true, Rose," Lissa said, jade green eyes burning with concern and a little bit of fear.

"Baby, look at me," Christian grabbed her chin between his thumb and index finger, she stared into his ice-blue eyes. "Rose is going to be fine, she can handle her own. Besides, she's always with Belikov….do you really think he would let anything happen to her?"

Lissa thought about it for a moment, before shaking her head and smiling, the relief clear on her face. "No, he wouldn't."

"Exactly," Christian trailed his lean fingers across her cheekbone and tucked a stray piece of platinum blonde hair behind her ear. "So don't worry about it, everything is going to be fine once they catch this lunatic."

"That's true," I nodded. "They have extra guards stationed outside the gates….and we all know about the change in curfew."

Our curfew here at St. Augustine's used to be nine, but now it was seven. So most students were back in their dorms before it was even fully dusk outside.

I glanced at the clock on the wall and gasped. "Gotta go! My Russian jailer's waiting for me."

"I'm sure he is, I'm sure he is," Adrian muttered. I smacked the back of his head.

"Ow!"

He launched a couch pillow at me, but it didn't make contact. I was already out the door.

I saw Dimitri out on the track, his back facing me. Figuring this was the only chance I'd get at catching him off guard, I took the opportunity.

I tip-toed until I was appreciatively five feet away from him, and then, silently as I possibly could, took the last few steps separating our bodies.

"I wouldn't do that, Rose," Dimitri chided; I could hear the underlying playfulness to his voice.

"Damn it!" I cursed under my breath. "I thought I had you."

"No, you don't have me," Dimitri turned around, that predatory smile curved his sensuous lips. "But I've got you."

And then he grabbed for me.

I turned on my heel and booked it as fast as I possibly could, just barely dodging his long arms from snatching me up—not that I'd complain, the thought of being in Dimitri's arms sounded like heaven, or what I imagined it to be.

Unfortunately, thanks to his long and lean legs, I only got about three feet before being captured.

Dimitri grabbed me by the waist from behind, his arms encircling around them and restraining me from going anywhere. I was pulled roughly into his body and slammed against his rock hard chest and stomach.

"Be still, Rose," His breath moved my hair, right above my ear. I shivered, and I'm sure he felt it.

I gave up on squirming. Being locked in Dimitri's arms was like being tied in a straight jacket, I wasn't going anywhere until he released me.

"Now, that is why I call you my Russian Jailer." I murmured.

He chuckled whole-heartedly. "And that is why I call you my pain in the ass."

I bit back an inappropriate comment about his ass, didn't want to antagonize him.

"I find that Rude," I said.

"What do you find rude, Ms. Hathaway?" I could hear the smile in his voice.

"You calling me your pain in the ass," I said. "I prefer to be called the apple of your eye, your star pupil, your best student ever…something along the lines of that."

This got an outright laugh. "That's not going to happen anytime soon. Definitely not in my lifetime."

"Well," I snickered. "I guess I shouldn't have to wait too long."

"And why is that?"

"Because you're old," I grinned and shifted in his arms so I could face him, he allowed me to by loosening his grip a bit.

Bad idea.

I nearly melted into a puddle of goo. Being in such close proximity with Dimitri did bad things to my libido.

The smell of aftershave mingled with sweat invaded my senses. His dark, bottomless eyes were on fire gazing at me, like melting pools of chocolate.

"Where is this from?" I somehow managed to find my voice. I trailed two fingers along a scar the stretched from his right eyebrow to the corner of his eye. I had never seen it before.

"My father," Dimitri's voice was raspy, husky, and sexy. His Russian accent so pronounced I found it difficult to understand him. But God, was it a beautiful sound.

Strands of shoulder length brown hair got tossed around from the wind and blew into my face, tickling my cheek.

"Your father did this to you?" I put the hand that was touching his face, onto his chest.

Dimitri nodded.

"Why?"

"Because he hit my mother," His jaw clenched.

"And he hit you too?" I felt a spark of anger towards a man I'd never met before.

"Only because I hit him first," The smallest smile twitched his mouth.

"You beat him up?"

"Yes,"

"Shut up," I punched his chest. "You beat up your father because he hit Olena?"

"First of all, I will not shut up," he paused, "And second of all, yes, I did beat up my father. He should know better than to lay his hands on a woman, and he needed to be taught a lesson."

"And you taught him a lesson…"

"Yes," he nodded, the smile becoming more prominent. "I taught him a lesson he'd never forget."

"Wow," I gaped in wonder and a bit of amazement. "You're a badass. The stories are true...you really are a God."

"A God?" he arched an eyebrow.

"Well, to be more specific," I paused. "A Russian God."

He chuckled, "That's what my students call me?"

I nodded, "All of them. They practically worship you, but they're also terrified of you."

"Why?" Dimitri's face suddenly became solemn.

"You're not exactly the most lenient, permissive, or merciful guy in the world," I shrugged. "It wouldn't kill ya to be a little nicer to the cadets."

I was distantly aware of being tucked away tightly in his arms, our position extremely intimate with all of his body parts being pressed against mine. For right now, it was just Dimitri and I, the rest of the world simply faded away.

"It's my job as the General to be strict," he said softly, "It is better for a leader to be feared than loved."

"Dimitri, why are you so guarded?" I shook my head. "You're so lonely; I can see it in those beautiful brown eyes. You have all these walls built around you, and you never let anyone past them."

"I've let you in," he whispered.

"No, you haven't. Not entirely," I said, "We could change that though."

I kissed the triangle of bare skin at the top of his black V neck. The skin was warm, soft…wonderful. I never wanted my lips to leave his body.

"Rose, what are you doing?" Dimitri shoved me back, I stumbled.

"Wow," I gasped, catching my footing. "I've never had rejection to that level of extreme."

"Are you crazy?" He demanded. "I am your instructor! This type of behavior will not be tolerated."

"Welcome back, General Belikov," I smiled bitterly. "I knew you'd render your ugly head soon or later. Tell me, Dimitri, have you ever been checked for multiple personality disorder?"

Christian, Mason, and I were all seated in the cafeteria, having a healthy competition of the game we'd made up just five minutes ago, 'Who could annoy people the most?'

I was currently in the lead.

I purposely dropped my orange on the ground, and waited for someone to kindly pick it up for me.

Andy, a senior in two of my classes, picked up the bait. Once he realized I wasn't planning on picking it up—or maybe he thought I hadn't noticed I'd dropped it, he stood up and strode over. Like a true gentleman, he reached down to pick it up.

"THAT'S MINE!" I screamed.

Andy's eyebrows raised, he looked at me strangely, before tossing the orange onto my table. "Geeze, lady. Just trying to help."

"Make like horse shit and hit the dusty trail!" I exclaimed.

"One more point for psycho bitch," Christian muttered, scribbling down marks on our tally chart.

"Looks like you won the game, Hathaway." Mason declared.

"This day just keeps getting better and better," I rubbed my hands together.

"Rose, Rose!" Lissa ran up to our table, wearing a cute pink sweat outfit and white sneakers.

"Well don't you look beautiful today," I complimented.

"She always looks beautiful," Christian added.

"Come on, let's go!" she jumped up and down.

"Where?"

"Shopping, at the mall. Go change now. We're leaving."

"Whoa slow down there, girly girl," I said. "I can't leave, I'm a cadet at this school and a minor."

"That is true," she grinned mischievously. "But I begged General Belikov to cut you some slack. He told me as long as him and Stan come along to supervise, it's fine. We just have to make sure we're all back by curfew."

"Ugh," I groaned. "Why couldn't you and I go alone? You're a staff here and over 18…I'm sure you could supervise me."

"I asked that," she bobbed her head up and down like a Parakeet. "But with all the strange occurrences going on lately at St. Augustine's, the last thing the General wants is to have a couple of girls out on their own. He's not taking any chances."

"Fine," I sighed. "I will go."

Lissa squealed, "Come on! Come on! Let's go get you dressed."

I grabbed my tray and stood up to follow her.

"Hey wait!" Christian frowned, "Don't I get any sugar?"

I rolled my eyes.

"Of course," Lissa giggled, running up to him and planting a sweet kiss to his lips. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to forget you."

Christian yanked her down into his lap, trying to prolong the kiss.

"Oh, my God!" I grabbed Lissa's arm. "Can you two just stop?"

"That's for forgetting about your honey," Christian winked at Lissa. "I'll make sure to get the rest later."

I gagged and dragged Lissa out of the cafeteria, dumping my tray in the trashcan on my way out.

I slipped into a pair or comfortable jeans and a black t-shirt with a picture of a ninja on the front. I shoved my feet into a pair of black Nikes, ran a brush through the tangles of my dark hair, and headed out the door with Lissa in tow.

Lissa lead me towards the front gates where a black van was parked. I spotted Dimitri and Stan leaning against it, looking like badass bodyguards—well, Dimitri did. He was wearing black jeans, matching shirt, leather boots, and his brown duster. Shoulder length brown hair tied at the nape of his neck.

My God, he was beautiful.

"I want you to meet someone, come on." Lissa smiled.

This helped me to snap out of my Russian God ogling. A condition I had picked up since moving here to St. Augustine's.

We reached the van.

"General Belikov," I nodded politely. "Bus-Driver Alto."

Stan glared at me. "It's Mr. Alto."

Lissa ushered me towards a man, he looked to be in his late 40's or early 50's with dark hair and jade green eyes that were identical to Lissa's.

Lissa gave him a friendly hug. He returned it just as eagerly.

"It's always nice to see you again, Vasilisa," he said. "It's been too long, we must do this more often."

"I want you to meet my best friend, Rosemarie Hathaway." She pulled back from the hug and gestured towards me.

"Call me Rose," I shot out my hand.

"I am Victor Dashkov," he smiled pleasantly, "It is always a pleasure to meet one of Vasilisa's close friends."

Victor shook my hand, it was a firm handshake. It radiated confidence. His palms were warm and scratchy. I glanced down to see what looked to be small cuts all over his hands. Most were healed.

"Are you okay?" I pointed at his hands. "It looks like your hands took a substantial amount of beating. You don't peg me as the construction type."

Victor glanced down his hands, the friendly smile never leaving his face.

"Oh, yes. I assure you I am fine," he laughed and shook his head, "You'll have to excuse my cat Bruce, he is quite the playful one. Always scratching and attacking my feet."

Lissa smiled. "I wish I could meet the little rascal."

"Perhaps you can come visit my home one day," Victor said. "You can play with Bruce all you want, I'm sure he'd be absolutely delighted to have someone keep him company. It's been quite lonely for him ever since MaryAnne has fallen ill; I have not the time of day for him."

I cocked my head to the side. Lissa nodded sympathetically.

Was she really buying into this guys crap? Viktor was practically throwing up lies. I could see it in his green eyes.

Lissa was a vulnerable caring person, she fell victim to anyone's sob stories. I wasn't so fooled.

Sure, I did believe he had a sick wife and a pain-in-the-ass cat, but there was something off about his character. Something not right.

I sniffed it from the moment I saw him.

"Alright, we have to get going so we can be back before dusk." Dimitri spoke from behind me.

"What are we hiding from? Vampires?" I grinned.

"It is a precaution, Ms. Hathaway." Stan said.

"I like Vampires," Lissa added.

"Christian has told me it is your…fetish." I winked. She giggled and blushed.

We all loaded into the car. Lissa and Viktor were in the back of the van, chatting one another's ears off. While Dimitri and Stan were seated in the front. Stan in passenger seat, Dimitri in drivers. I decided to sit behind him.

"Hey, Comrade," I tapped his shoulder.

"Address me by my appropriate tile, Ms Hathaway," Dimitri said blankly. "As I have respectively addressed you."

"Sorry, General Belikov," I paused. "Do you like my shirt?"

Dimitri's dark eyes flickered to the rearview mirror; he glanced down at the ninja on my shirt. He raised a dark eyebrow. I huffed.

Figuring Dimitri and Stan weren't going to be the chattiest fellows; I decided to head back and hang with Lissa and Viktor for a bit. Just to keep a watchful eye on them.

The entire ride there—an hour and forty five minutes—Viktor spoke nonstop about his wife, MaryAnne. He explained of how MaryAnne had been diagnosed with Sandovsky's Syndrome just four years back. It was a chronic disease that was slowly killing her and ultimately preventing MaryAnne from living the life she always dreamed of.

Viktor had also gone on to explain that his wife was basically a vegetable, and her condition continued to rapidly deteriorate. MaryAnne had been put through hell in recent years, going through all sorts of tests and rough therapy. She'd also volunteered to become a human lab-rat, and allowed the doctors to experiment on her. They still hadn't found a cure for the disease, and they were losing hope that they ever would.

I had to admit, by the time Viktor was done talking, I had become a little teary eyed. Lissa had silent tears streaming down her face. I felt bad for pegging Viktor as someone sketchy and up-to-no-good so quickly. I didn't know him. Don't judge a book by its cover, was the saying.

Viktor was a really nice person, just a lonely guy experiencing heart ache and endlessly hoping his wife would somehow get better. I decided to give him a chance. Be polite. I had no reason not to.

All too son, we were pulling up to the Missoula mall.

I hopped out, along with Viktor, Lissa, Dimitri, and Stan.

Lissa squealed excitedly, running over, she crushed me into a hug.

"Shopping! Shopping! Shopping!" In her burst of energy and excitement, Lissa attempted to pick me up.

I outweighed her by at least 15 pounds, and after a few embarrassed grunts and failed attempts, she let go of my waist and stepped back.

"Gee, Liss," I put my hand on my hip. "You make me feel like a cow."

She shrugged. "It's not you; it's these darn tiny arms of mine."

I laughed.

Dimitri and Stan ushered us inside the mall.

"Are we done yet, Lissa?" I asked irritably. We'd been in the mall for three hours already and in our seventh clothing store.

My stomach grumbled and cramped. "Need food, now."

"Once we find you a dress for Thanksgiving dinner, we'll be out of here, I promise." Lissa piled more clothes and shoes into her arms.

"What's so important about this dinner anyway?" I groaned.

"I want you to meet my parents and brother," she smiled.

"Is your brother hot?" I asked.

Lissa shrugged. "He resembles me in a lot of ways."

"He's hot." I stated. She chuckled softly.

Dimitri and Stan sat in the food court with Viktor—just outside the store Lissa and I were in—keeping a watchful eye on the two of us.

Viktor had tried to keep up with us—and he'd done a damn good job—but after awhile, he grew tired. After apologizing profusely, he went to go have a seat and relax in the food court. I watched with envy as all three of the men munched in on Chinese food. Maybe I could sneak out of here and Lissa wouldn't notice me gone…

No such luck.

"I found it!" she squealed, holding up a blood-red dress. The fabric was satin with thin spaghetti straps and a sweetheart neckline.

"Are you sure that's appropriate for meeting your parents?" I asked. "It looks like it'd manage some major clinging action around the butt and breasts…if ya know what I mean. And I think you do."

"Oh, it's fine," Lissa made a dismissive motion. "My parents are going to love you in it. You're going to love yourself in it. Now get in that dressing room now, young lady! Or so help me I will do something bad."

I was shoved into the dressing room.

After slipping on the dress, I was pleased with my reflection in the mirror. I showcased it for Lissa.

"Wow," she gaped. "You look smokin' hot."

I heard a low whistle. I glanced over at the doorway where Vikor stood, Dimitri and Stan behind him as giant shadows.

"Exquisite and delicate, my dear," Viktor smiled. "You look wonderful."

"Thanks, Viktor," I smiled politely.

"Please," he waved his hand in the air. "You are practically part of the family now. Call me Uncle."

"Thanks, Uncle Victor." My smile was more sincere this time, my heart warmed at his words.

How could I have been so cold to judge him the way I did earlier?

I looked past Viktor, where Dimitri stood. His face was blank and guarded. But his eyes told a whole different tale. They were dark. Hungry. Appreciative. Dimitri just stared at me. And stared and stared. I felt like the most desirable woman in the world under that penetrating gaze. My insides ignited in flames.

"Are we ready to leave yet, ladies?" Victor asked.

"Yes." Lissa and I sung in unison.

"Rose, change back in your clothes. I'll go pay for everything. And then we're out of here." Lissa said.

"Thank you," I shuffled towards the dressing room. "My feet are killing me."

Later that night, after taking a shower and getting dressed in my favorite PJ's, I was tucked neatly in bed when I spotted a looming shadow.

I gasped in fear and shot up in my bed.

"Roza, relax, it's just me." Dimitri stood in my doorway.

"What are you doing here?" I slammed a hand to my heaving chest. "You scared the hell out of me. I thought you were the killer."

"I came by to give you a new door," he smiled. Dimitri disappeared into the hallway; a moment later he came back, holding a shiny oak door in his arms.

"Why am I getting my door back?" I asked dumbfounded. "Have I been on good behavior?"

"It's definitely not that," he grinned. I glared. "I came to give you a door so you can have some privacy. Also, with the murders—"

I cringed.

"—it is not safe to be out in the open. When I know you're locked safely away in your room at night, it gives me peace at mind, that way I am able to catch some sleep. I haven't gotten much lately, knowing anyone could walk into your dorm at anytime."

Dimitri shook his head, as if to clear the bad thoughts.

Without another word, he pulled out a screwdriver and began hooking my privacy and protection up.

Twenty minutes later, my brand new door was in place. Equipped with two deadbolts and a chain Dimitri had installed.

"Do the rest of the cadets have these?" I gestured to the locks.

"No," Dimitri said. "I installed those only in your room."

"Why?" My forehead creased in confusion.

"For extra protection." He answered. "Better to be safe, than sorry."

"Don't all of the other cadets need extra protection too?"

"I am not concerned with them as of right now," Dimitri shrugged. "My only focus is keeping you safe, and that is what I plan to do."

I smiled. "Thanks, Comrade."

He nodded sharply.

I snuggled back into the covers. Dimitri stood there, glancing around my room. That's when he spotted my blood-red dress draped over the chair beside my desk.

"Aren't you going to hang it up?" he jerked his head in that direction.

"The dress?"

He nodded.

"Naw," I shook my head. "As long as it's not lying on the floor, it's fine with me."

"It will get wrinkles and creases," he noted. "It is difficult to iron satin, it burns easily if you are not careful."

"Were you a dry cleaner before you became a General?" I asked sardonically.

"I have three sisters," Dimitri explained. "I picked up a trick or two over the years."

"Oh."

"Well," He gazed back at me. "It is a nice dress and I would hate to see it get ruined because you're simply too lazy to hang it up."

Dimitri hung up the dress for me in my closet.

I smiled gratefully. "Do you like it?"

"Like what?"

I pointed towards the closet.

"The dress?"

"Yes," I said. "The dress."

"I have already said it's nice."

"I know, I know," I waved my hand impatiently in the air. "But do you like it on me?"

Dimitri visibly swallowed, and it looked like it hurt. His voice was tight as he spoke, "Yes, Rose. You look nice in it."

"Nice?" My face scrunched up. "Don't you think that term is a little bland when describing me? You can do better than that."

His gaze narrowed. "What do you expect me to say, Ms. Hathaway?"

"Something besides nice," I said. "Say something you mean. Something you are feeling…something from your heart."

Dimitri's dark eyes softened, his mouth forming a small frown. He looked sad, vulnerable, pained.

"You're beautiful, Roza," he breathed, staring at the ground. His tone indicated he was talking more to himself than me. "You're so beautiful, it hurts me sometimes."

Dimitri spared me one last glance before turning and reaching for the door handle.

"Make sure you lock this."

And then he closed the door shut behind him, leaving me speechless from what he'd confessed tonight.