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But there was something else in his voice. Something soft and nauseating. Something that sounded suspiciously like pity. The day I stuck around to see that on his face was the day I’d willingly roll around in my own self-loathing.
“I guess I shall have to let you know.” I watched her fingers wrap around Christian’s arm.
“Kak moya,” I said, smoothing the gloss on my lips and watching her in the mirror. “What does it mean?” She stopped at the door, assessing me with a look. “It means, like mine.”
“You’ve been ignoring me.” I shook my head. He followed me as I walked backward, his tone demanding a response. “Tell me why.” “You like me,” I breathed.
“You like me . . . like me.” I didn’t know how I could have been so stupid for so long—maybe I was in denial—but it was all clear to me now. He might hate himself for it, but Christian Allister was still into me. Really into me. Enough to kiss me. Enough to think I tasted like his.
“I’ve thought about you so much you’re mine now.” It was a growl that lowered into a threat. “You’re lucky you didn’t let him touch you, Gianna, because I really don’t like it when people touch my things.” I swallowed. “Who touches me is none of your business.” “It’s always been my business.”
“Moya zvezdochka.” He murmured the two rough words against my lips. I stilled. Those words . . . I’d heard them before. More than once. And then the memory dropped into place. “You,” I breathed, eyes wide. “You were at my wedding.”
“I’ll make him love me, you’ll see.” A thumb skimmed across my cheek. “If anyone can do it, it would be you . . .” His voice was soft and rough. “Moya zvezdochka.”
I swallowed, confused at the feeling that stopped me in my tracks. A feeling that bloomed like hope and, at the same time, wilted like despair. Somewhere between the ages of twenty and twenty-eight, I’d forgotten what longing felt like.
“Aren’t you going to kiss me first?” I blinked at him. My heart burned when he actually did it.
His eyes narrowed on me before he reached for his suit jacket resting on the back of an island chair. “You been listening to gossip?”
“I’m coming with you Saturday.” I couldn’t even protest because I was still wide-eyed and shaken from the moment before. “We’ll leave at nine,” he told me. And then he shut the door behind him.
“And what would you like to see me in, Your Highness?” My bed, spread-eagled and naked.
The woman had no idea. She thought I liked her. I’d gone out of my way and followed her around for goddamn years just to look at her. I’d insulted her just to hear her smoky voice and witty response. And now, after my move to Seattle, it was hard to believe she was here in front of me. That I could reach out and touch her.
She did her makeup in the mirror on the way to the airstrip, while I pretended my blood didn’t thrum in approval at having her in my space, even doing such mundane, non-dick-related things like applying mascara.
“Voy kak volk, malyshka.” Howl like a wolf. Her soft eyes flicked to me. They burned a small hole in my chest. “Voy kak volk,” she whispered. She’d said it right. And I suddenly knew I was going to keep her.
Gianna was internally shaken but was hiding it well. Her anger? Not so much. “Gianna—” She left me standing there. As much as it pissed me off that she’d jumped so fast to think the worst of me, I let her have her anger, because it was what she needed right now.
“I’ll take my chances.” When I passed his underboss, a single pop ricocheted off the walls as I pulled out my .45 and shot him in the arm. He hissed in pain and slid down the wall.
“That’s because you touched her.” I put my gun away and opened the door. “Every time you touch something that belongs to me, I’ll fuck up something of yours.”
“It’s cute that you wear it.” He smacked my ass hard enough to sting. “Almost”—I gasped as he sucked on the sensitive spot behind my ear—“romantic.”
I lifted a leg and rested my heel on his bare stomach. He undid the strap around my ankle and set the stiletto on the floor. But, before reaching for the next foot, he kissed my instep. I didn’t know if that was an erogenous zone, but my body lit up like it was.
This was where I would usually have something witty to say, but, in truth, I felt . . . shy?
“I love your hair, malyshka. It’s the first part of you I saw—the back of your head at your wedding. And then you turned around and looked right at me. But you weren’t looking at me—you were looking past me, toward your new husband, with this infatuated glow in your eyes. The first woman I wanted to look at me was too busy staring at another man. That was when I started to hate him—and I still do, even though he is dead”—his voice roughened with a slight accent—“because he got that look from you, and I never have.”
“Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to, malyshka.” It was one. And it was me.
“There won’t be any more drama, Gianna. This is exclusive now.” It wasn’t lost on me that I’d just told him I was ending this relationship and he’d countered with making it more serious. I blinked. “Exclusive, just sex?” He shook his head, something sardonic passing through his eyes. “Whatever you want it to be, malyshka.”
“I’m moving back to New York.” My heart dropped. “What? Why?” His gaze touched mine as he said, “I missed the city.” Oh. “You called me flighty,” I breathed. “I meant perfect.”
I asked him if he kissed all his neighbors or just me. He looked me in the eye and said, “You’re the only woman I’ve ever kissed, malyshka.”
I’d lost my cool when I found Gianna laughing with some Abelli who had his hand in her hair. How could I say every strand was mine any clearer than washing it every goddamn night?
“Make her fall for me before I fuck it all up. Then, she won’t leave.” “Sounds a little Stockholmy to me, but I like it. I’ll figure something out with Sergei.”
“You have a sexy voice.” She yawned. A smile pulled on my lips. She was always so honest.
“What are you doing?” she asked, as I got into bed with her and pulled her back against my chest. “Sleeping.” “Here?” She sounded terrified. “Yes. Now, be quiet. I’m tired.” I’d never done this in my life. Wouldn’t be able to sleep a fucking wink. “Fine.”
When you’re obsessed with something for so long and finally obtain it? It feels like coming home to God. And nobody gives up their fucking spot in Heaven.
There was a man in my room. In my bed. Panic bled into my veins, and my eyes shot open. “Go back to sleep, malyshka.” My heart began to beat again.
You’re lucky I can even pencil you in.” On his way out of the room, he grabbed my ankle and dragged me down the bed toward him. His voice was rough as he pulled my face up to his. “Move shit around if you have to and pencil me in for tonight.” Then, he kissed me, placing a sharp nip on my bottom lip.
I tried to stop it, but I couldn’t. A stupid smile overtook my face.
“You have never looked more beautiful than you do right now, malyshka.” I flushed, my heart growing ridiculously warm. “I’m trying to be annoyed with you, if you can’t tell.” He smiled. “Ah, my mistake.”
“It’s delicious, malyshka. Thank you for making it for me.”
“No, malyshka, I like it.” He ran a thumb across my cheek. “This is just new to me.” He paused, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “And I haven’t figured out how to deal with it yet.” “With what?” “You.”
I was stuck in a room full of feds, I was out of my element, and my date wouldn’t even look at me. The walls seemed to be closing in. My chest felt tight.
“I promise, I won’t ever say anything like that to you again.” I sighed. “It’s more than that, Christian, and you know it.” “We’ll figure the rest out. But I’m not letting you go.” His jaw clenched, eyes fierce. “I can’t.”
“There are plenty of women who could make you happier, Christian.” “You’re the only one I want.”
Then, he held my face and kissed me softly on the lips. “Thank you for dinner, malyshka.” That was when I knew I loved his soft side. I sat on his lap, his hand playing with my hair, while we watched some political debate on CNN.
“God, I want you,” I breathed into his mouth. He made a tortured noise in his throat and pulled back. A thumb ran across my cheek, his eyes conflicted. “Say it again.” I rocked my hips against him, desperation coating my words. “I want you so badly.” “Why?” he asked, his voice hoarse. “Because . . .” I sighed, searching for the reason and then just letting my first thought escape. “Because it’s always been you.”
I ran my hands down his chest, flashing him my new sparkly crimson nails. “What do you think?” “I love them, malyshka.” He grabbed my hand and kissed it.
“I’ve been waiting for you to get home all day.” He made a noise of contentment. “What are you doing to me?” His voice was serious and slightly accented.
As the next week passed, each day, I fell in love with something else.
“Would you visit my grave if I died?” His eyes grew dark. “I’d die before you were ever in a grave, malyshka.” I loved his possessive side. And I loved his dark side, too.
“You’re not even Catholic!” “I’m whatever you are.”
“I’ll be outside, malyshka,” he said in my ear. And then he turned my face and kissed me on the lips. It was short and sweet but possessive, letting everyone know Christian Allister was screwing me nine ways to Sunday.
“Honey,” she laughed. “I’m sure you’ve just been blinded by the incredibly beautiful man he is, but I’m here to tell you, he has never wanted just sex from you. All anyone has to do is look at him when you’re in the room to know he’s obsessed with you.” I frowned. “What do you mean?” “I mean, he’s obviously tricked you into a relationship.”
