Выбрать главу

this to me!”

I forced my fingers to pick up a knight and gently put it

on its square. You see? said the logical part of my brain.

This is why you had to split up. This is why it could

never have worked. But it was overwhelmed by the

sudden, sick fear that rose up inside me.

I couldn’t stand the thought of something happening to

him. It didn’t matter that he was the enemy: we’d

already formed too much of a connection. “Isn’t there

another way?” I asked. “Can’t you make peace?”

Vasiliy almost spat. “Peace? The Italians don’t want

peace. They’re too old-fashioned, too hot-blooded. They

want a war!”

Had he always been like this? I was sure that I

remembered him being less brutal, less ruthless when it

came to expanding his empire. He’d grown colder and

more bitter around the time I started to distance myself

from the family, and I couldn’t understand why. “Maybe

they could change?” I asked in a small voice.

He sighed and shook his head. “Men like us can’t

change, Irina.”

I closed my eyes. If that was true, there was no hope at

all. “I just don’t want to see people hurt.”

His voice softened. “I’ll be careful, kotyonok.” That was

his pet name for me when I was a child—kitten. “And I’ll

keep Mikhail and Yuri and the rest of us safe, too.” He

smiled as he said it, to reassure me. “Baroni will be the

one who pays.”

I had to swallow hard—I thought I was going to throw

up. “Can’t you give a little ground? Work something

out?”

He sighed, exasperated, and waved a hand at the

apartment. “You’ve been wrapped up in your ballet for

too long. This is how it works, how it’s always worked.

We crush our enemies with strength. We can’t show

weakness. You used to know that.”

I felt as if I was being torn in two. I might try to push

them away, to deny I was a Malakov, but they were

family...and yet here I was trying to protect our enemy.

“Sorry,” I said at last, my voice tight.

He put a hand on my cheek. When I looked into his

eyes, they were full of sadness. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I

know this isn’t the life you would have chosen. But there

is no choice, here. You’re a Malakov, whether you want

to be or not, whether you choose to play a role or not.

That’s why you need someone like Mikhail to protect

you.”

My stomach twisted. This was my future: to watch this

fight escalate into war, see Angelo killed and then marry

Mikhail and be drawn right back into the gangster life

again.

I jumped up out of my chair and ran.

“Irina?” Vasiliy asked, sounding startled.

“I’m fine. Finish putting the pieces back, I’ll be there in a

minute.” I raced upstairs to my bedroom, blinking back

tears. I closed the door and then stood there in the

middle of the room, taking deep, shuddering breaths.

Don’t cry, don’t cry…. I had no way of explaining red

eyes to Vasiliy. I had to build up the layers of ice Angelo

had broken down. I had to be cold and strong and—

Something small and hard hit the glass doors that lead

onto my balcony. I walked over and threw them open,

then looked down.

“Hi,” said Angelo.

18

Irina

I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t think. As soon as I looked into

his eyes, all hopes of forgetting him, of moving on, of

being a good, loyal Malakov girl, were gone.

“I’m coming up,” said Angelo.

That spurred me to action. “What? No!” But he’d already

jumped and caught the iron bars that form the front of

the balcony. His muscles bunched under his suit jacket

and he hauled himself up. “Vasiliy is here!” I hissed.

He swung himself up over the rail and landed in front of

me, lithe and powerful as a panther. God, he’s

gorgeous. “Then you’d better keep quiet,” he told me,

“and listen to what I have to say.”

Wide-eyed, I grabbed the lapels of his coat and hauled

him inside before someone saw him, then closed the

doors to the balcony. And then we were standing

together in my bedroom. Alone. The hard, muscled bulk

of him, the presence of him...he seemed to fill the

room. The last time we’d been there, we’d very nearly

had sex. Then the night before, we’d both fantasized

about him fucking me, right there on the bed. I could

feel myself being drawn to him, the animal heat of him

melting through the layers of ice….

No! I broke up with him for a reason. This can’t work!

But it felt so good just to see him alive.

He took a step towards me. I took a step back, trying to

stay out of range of the attraction. “You have to go!” I

told him in a harsh whisper. “Vasiliy is downstairs. He

wants to kill you for what you did!”

“I’m not scared of Vasiliy.”

I knew it was true. He didn’t seem to be scared of

anyone. “Why did you come here?”

“You know why!” His voice was a low growl that I had

to pray didn’t carry through the door. “I need you. I

want you.”

My whole body seemed to sing and throb, a tuning fork

responding to that bass voice. “You barely know me!”

“That’s bullshit and you know it.” He advanced another

step, closing the distance between us. “I never met

anyone like you before.” He put his hand under my chin,

lifting it so that I was looking up into those brown and

amber eyes. He looked almost angry—angry at me for

doing this to him. “You’ve worked some fucking spell on

me, Irina. I can’t let you go.”

I looked up at him helplessly. I felt the same thing he

did, but we couldn’t. I opened my mouth to try to

explain, but I couldn’t find the words—

And then suddenly his lips were coming down on mine,

his hand lifting my chin so that he could plunder my

mouth. I let out a startled mmf! And then I was panting

up into his mouth as his hands stroked through my hair.

The heat of him poured down into me, driving away the

cold. It was like being brought back to life—I hadn’t

realized how much I needed his touch. My hands came

up of their own accord, finding his neck and the hard

muscles of his back. I gave myself up to it for long

seconds, his tongue dancing with mine, ribbons of

pleasure lashing down through my body to make my

back arch and my toes dance—

I tore myself away and staggered backward. “No!” I told

him in a harsh whisper. “We can’t do this! You’re not

just a rival, you’re our enemy! You’re heading into a war

against my uncle!”

He put his hands on my shoulders and just that simple

touch felt so good I wanted to hurl myself against him

again. “You don’t have to get involved in it.”

“I am involved! It’s my family!” I stared desperately up

into his eyes, trying to find a way to get through to him.

I could feel the tension throbbing through his body, his

hands like iron on my shoulders. That intent, utterly

focused, like no one else I’d ever met. Having me was

the most important thing in the world to him, I realized,

and that made my head spin.

And maybe it was just enough to save him.

“I told you last night,” I whispered. “We can’t do this

unless you make peace. Stop the war before it starts.” I

swallowed. “Give my uncle what he wants. Give him

your territory. No one has to die!”

He shook his head. The pain on his face was as if I’d