fault. But I could feel that seed throbbing and burning
inside me, growing steadily bigger and bigger.
I drew in a long breath...and called her.
9
Irina
I was up on the flat roof of Fenbrook Academy, lying on
my back in the snow. It’s not as crazy as it sounds: my
coat was thick enough to insulate me from the cold and
long enough to cover me down to my thighs, so my ass
didn’t get wet. And there wasn’t much wind. Just big,
soft flakes of snow fluttering straight down, invisible
against the white sky until they were almost touching
my face. Gazing straight up, nothing but the sky was
visible. I could have been anywhere in the world. I could
have been in Moscow.
For the first time since I arrived in New York, I really
wanted to go home.
When Angelo had walked out, it had felt like a slap in
the face. It was a million times worse because of
everything I thought I’d seen in his eyes that evening:
not just raw, hot lust but a hint of a deeper need.
But all of that had become irrelevant as soon as he’d
found out who I was.
Bastard!
I knew it was unfair. Everyone was scared of Vasiliy.
Angelo was some sort of banker and what banker in
their right mind would want to get mixed up with the
Malakov family? There’s a reason that all the suitors I’d
met were criminals themselves. Who else would want
me?
And anyway, this was for the best. It was my own fault.
I should never have gone to dinner with him. I’d known
it couldn’t go anywhere.
If he hadn’t seen the photo, we would have slept
together. Maybe we would have managed a few more
dates but, sooner or later, he would have found out
about Vasiliy or Vasiliy would have found out about him
and we would have been torn apart. This way, at least
we hadn’t had time to get to know each other.
So why did it hurt so much?
My phone rang. I very nearly didn’t answer. Whatever
excuses he made would only make it worse. And yet…
And yet, when I closed my eyes and felt the snowflakes
landing on my cheeks, all I could think about were those
brown eyes burning into me, the feel of his lips on
mine….
Without opening my eyes, I answered and put the
phone to my ear. “Hello?”
Silence for several seconds. I could hear the tension in
his breathing, imagined his big hands clenching and
unclenching. “I’m sorry,” he said at last.
Hearing him say it should have helped, but somehow it
made the pain real. “It’s okay,” I lied.
And then I could hear it coming: an intake of breath as
he braced himself for what had to be said. I screwed my
eyes closed. I didn’t want to hear the words. I didn’t
want to hear: I think it’s best if we don’t see each other
again. I didn’t want to be reminded that, however far I
ran from Moscow, I could never, ever escape who I
was.
“I want to see you again,” he said.
I was braced so hard that it took a few seconds to sink
in. My eyes slowly opened. “What?”
He sounded as surprised as I was. But he repeated it
and his voice grew more determined with every word. “I
want to see you again, Irina. I need to see you again.”
I just breathed for a while, processing it. Then, “Why?
So you can do this in person?” My voice went cold. “So
you can let me down gently?!”
“No!” I heard him rub his face with his hand. “I want to
see you. I want to keep seeing you. I’m sorry I...left. I
was just...you caught me off-guard.”
“And now you’re okay with it?” I didn’t allow my voice to
warm up. “You’re okay with me being a Malakov?”
Another long silence, as if a battle was going on inside
him. “Yes.”
A tiny flame flared into life inside me, barely enough to
push back the cold. Hope. I wanted it to be true. But I
couldn’t let that hope build until tonight or tomorrow,
only to have it snuffed out again. I had to know. I had
to see him in person, now.
There was a metallic creak as the door to the stairwell
opened. I sat up and saw Rachel standing there. “Irina!”
she called. “Move your ass! Break was over five minutes
ago. Miss Kay’s about to go freaking nuclear!”
Our ballet teacher’s rants are legendary. “I can meet
you in front of Fenbrook in a half hour, when this class
ends,” I told Angelo.
“I’ll be there,” he said immediately. And the tiny flame
flared a little brighter.
I ended the call and ran for the stairs. Rachel held the
door for me and gave a long-suffering sigh, ruffling my
hair affectionately as I passed. As we raced down the
stairs to class, all I could think about was Angelo. In a
half hour, I’d find out if this thing was real or not.
I wanted it to be real so bad it scared me.
10
Angelo
I grabbed my coat and pulled it on. My mind was
whirling: I had no idea what I was going to do about
her being Vasiliy’s flesh and blood and every logical part
of my brain was screaming that this was a bad idea. But
that wasn’t enough to stop me. I had to see her, and
fuck the consequences.
Jesus, what’s this woman done to me?
Rico was waiting outside when I opened the door. “I’m
going out,” I told him before he could speak.
“Now? What about the Russians?”
Just the mention of Vasiliy and his crew made my
stomach knot. “They’ll still be there when I get back,” I
said.
“But we need to hit back! Show them we’re not going to
be—”
I rounded on him. “Goddammit, Rico! Later!”
He backed off, shocked more than scared. “Okay, sure,”
he said, a trace of hurt in his voice.
I took a long, deep breath. What the hell’s the matter
with me? Rico was like a brother. I couldn’t even
remember the last time we’d argued. I laid a hand on
his shoulder. “There’s just something I need to take care
of. Okay?”
He nodded, but I could see the confusion in his eyes.
Normally, nothing came before business, especially
when it concerned the Russians. “You want some
backup?” he asked.
I fucking loved this guy. Always there for me, even
when I was behaving like an asshole. Again, I
considered telling him about Irina...but I couldn’t.
Knowing Rico, he’d talk sense into me. I squeezed his
shoulder. “Not this time,” I told him. I turned away
quickly, shoved open the door to the parking lot and
stalked outside—
And stopped. I stood there blinking in amazement as
the door swung shut behind me.
It had been snowing. It must have started right after I
arrived at the bar that morning because everything was
covered with a thick white carpet, untouched and
perfect. After the dim interior of the bar, the sunlight on
all that bright white was blinding.
The whole world looked different. New. And...I’d never
seen snow as anything other than a pain in the ass,
before, something that slowed traffic and had to be
shoveled out of the way but now…..
Maybe it was because snow made me think of Russia
and Irina but it looked goddamn beautiful.
I glanced back at the bar. Inside, the other guys didn’t
even know it had been snowing out here. I wouldn’t
have, if I hadn’t called Irina. I’d still be in there,
worrying about the ugly, brutal reality of the job.
I looked ahead of me, at the unbroken snow. And took