“Like I said. You might like it. Giving up control isn’t as bad as you think.”
His brows descended, fingers tightening in her hair. “Careful, Izzy.”
“Oh, I’m always careful, Aleks.” She watched his attention drop to her neck, then farther down where the blue silk stretched across her breasts. “Are you going to play then? Or are you just going to pull my hair and stare at my tits?”
“You like it when I do that.”
“Yeah, I do. But that’s not all I like. I like getting to know people too. People like you.”
With unexpected gentleness, Aleks released her. “I don’t understand why you would want to, Izzy. But if that’s what you want, I can live with that.” He stepped back, turned toward the bedroom. “I’m going to have a shower. While I’m doing that, you can set up the board.”
Aleks showered on auto-pilot, his head too full of Izzy to pay attention to much else. The game suggestion of hers had been unexpected to say the least, but he wasn’t averse to the idea. A damn sight better than dinner or whatever it was that people did when they got to know one another. Chess was his element. A familiar world where he knew the rules and where he felt most in control. He could play and tell her a few facts about himself. If that’s what he had to do to get her in his bed, then that’s what he’d do.
Dressing impatiently, he went back out into the lounge area to find Izzy had taken the chess set off the coffee table and had put it on the floor. She’d grabbed a couple of cushions from the couch to sit on and now sat with her legs crossed, examining one of the chess pieces.
“These are beautiful,” she said, holding up a white pawn. “Are they handmade?”
“Yes.” He sat on the cushion on the other side of the board.
“Who made them? Did you?”
“Viktor.” Sometimes the old man had given him a chess piece instead of money so that eventually, Aleks had won the whole set. He still remembered the day he’d got the final piece—not the king but the queen. The white queen. The day he’d beaten Viktor in their first game, rather than their third or fourth.
“Wow, he must have been some craftsman.” Izzy ran a finger along the pawn’s fine grain. “Did he make them for you?”
“We need to start the game before you ask any more questions.”
She gave him an annoyed look but didn’t protest. “Okay, who plays what?”
“I play black.”
“What? I don’t get a choice?”
“No. I always play black.” Because black was more of a challenge since white started first.
Izzy frowned. After a moment, she put the pawn she’d been examining down on the board, making the first move.
The game began to unroll in his head like a tapestry, her moves, his. A thousand different possibilities, a thousand different outcomes. Analyzing the game, sometimes thinking twenty moves ahead, was as natural to him as breathing and he did it automatically.
He moved another piece, Izzy’s answering move exactly what he’d expected. Another move from him and he would checkmate her. Had she seen it? Did she know?
He glanced over at her and found her staring back at him.
“You concentrate so fiercely,” she said. “What do you see?”
“You haven’t taken one of my pieces yet so you can’t ask a question.”
“So you’re going to be a hard-ass about the rules, huh?”
“Izzy, look at the board.”
“What?” She glanced down, a puzzled expression on her face. “Shit. You can checkmate me already?”
“It’s called fool’s mate.”
“Oh great, so I’m a fool. Fantastic.” Izzy scowled. “Can I take my move back?”
“No. But in the interest of the game, I won’t checkmate you now.”
“Wow, generous. I guess—”
“I’m going to require something in return though.”
Izzy lifted her chin, gaze narrowing. “What?”
The game was the game, the rules the rules, and he didn’t like messing with either. But he could adapt when necessary. “We’ll treat it as though I’ve taken one of your pieces. Which means you have to remove an item of clothing.”
Her mouth pursed. The bangles on her wrists made a soft chiming noise as she folded her arms. “You are going to be a hard-ass about the rules.”
“The rules are there for a reason, Izzy.”
“But it’s not like this is a serious game.”
“Chess is always serious.”
“Man, you’re not kidding. No free passes for amateurs even?”
“You want me to go easy on you?”
“No, I guess not. Bugger. There goes my fun times idea then.”
“You know where the door is.”
“You think I’m going to pike out?”
“You’d better not. You okayed the rules before we started.”
“All right, fine. But I get to choose which item of clothing I take off.”
Aleks wanted to argue the point but found himself reluctant to do so. What did it matter? He’d win, that was a foregone conclusion. She wasn’t wearing enough clothes to last a whole game anyway.
“Okay,” he said finally. “But the bracelets don’t count.” He wanted her to leave them on. He wanted her naked wearing only them.
Izzy muttered a curse. Then she reached behind her head and pulled out the hair tie that held her hair back in a ponytail. White-blonde curls drifted over her shoulders in a thick cotton-candy mass. “There.” She held out the hair tie for inspection. “Happy?”
He couldn’t complain. Her hair was beautiful. “Yes.”
“Don’t forget I have to win some pieces.”
Like he could forget that. He didn’t answer, moving another pawn instead.
“Not much of a talker, are you?” Izzy shifted her bishop.
“Is that another question?”
She made a frustrated noise. “Yeah it’s a question but I guess you don’t have to answer it.”
Aleks considered his move. “I talk but only when I have something to say.”
“Which isn’t often.”
“Is that a problem?”
“No, but…” She faltered. “Makes me feel like I’m running at the mouth all the time.”
“I’ve noticed.” He shifted another pawn. “You talk a lot when you’re nervous or unsure of yourself.”
A small silence crept between them.
He looked up from the board. Izzy was staring at him, a surprised look on her face.
“What?” he asked.
“You noticed that about me?”
“I notice a lot of things about you.” It was, he realized, true. And he hadn’t been aware quite how much he noticed until now. But then it shouldn’t surprise him, should it? He paid attention to the things that interested him. And she interested him.
A stain of colour washed through her cheeks. She looked away, back down to the board. “Well,” she said. “Well… Good.”
He watched her, the play of colour on her cheeks, the way the corners of her mouth had curved slightly into a smile. She looked pleased. And for some reason that pleased him too.
“Oh,” Izzy breathed. “I think I can take your pawn.”
Aleks didn’t need to look. He knew she could because that’s the way he’d planned it. “So take it then.”
She didn’t hesitate, knocking over his piece with hers then picking up the black pawn with a look of triumph. “Ha! It’s mine now. And that means I get to ask you a question.”
A small flicker of tension went through him, but he ignored it. He’d promised her she could ask questions and he would answer them. His past was fraught, admittedly, but he had nothing to hide. Nothing to be ashamed of.
“Ask away,” he said.
Carefully Izzy placed the black pawn down beside the chessboard. Then she looked at the man sitting opposite her.
He had one leg stretched out in front of him, the other bent at the knee, his elbow propped on it. Cas
ual and relaxed. Except the intensity of his expression and the air of subtle tension about him. As if he was bracing himself for something. Her question probably. Interesting. He did seem to be very reserved. Was that a Russian thing or an Aleks thing?
She leaned back on her hands, thinking. There were a whole lot of questions in her head, but she decided to keep the first one general. He already looked like he was expecting something major so shaking up his expectations wouldn’t be a bad thing. It would have to be phrased carefully though because she already knew he’d give her exactly what he promised and no more. Him and his bloody rules.
“So, Aleks. Why chess?”
He lifted one black brow. “What do you mean ‘why chess’?”
“You’re a professional chess player, or so you told me. Pretty unusual. I want to know why you do it.”
“Because I’m good at it.”
“That’s it? Because you’re good at it?”
“What more were you expecting?”
Dear God but the man was annoying. “A little bit more than ‘I’m good at it’. C’mon. Why chess player and not, say, policeman? Or truckdriver? Or President of the USA?”
“That’s more than one question.”
Izzy glared at him. “No more clothes are coming off until you give me a decent answer.”
Aleks said nothing for a long moment. “I play chess professionally because I’m good at it. Because I enjoy playing.” The slightest of hesitations. “And because I don’t have any qualifications for anything else. I never went to school.”
Carefully Izzy pushed herself off her hands. “Never went to school? Why not?”
“That can be your next question.”
Damn him. His rules were stupid. But then she’d agreed to them, hadn’t she?
She glared harder, but he didn’t seem to notice, reaching out and moving up a bishop to take one of her pawns instead. He picked up the white piece, turning it over in his long, clever fingers, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes.
Her annoyance faded at that glint. Being the object of his satisfaction was a rush. “I guess you’re going to be asking me to take something off, huh?”
“Yes.” The glint in his eyes deepened. “Whenever you’re ready.”
Izzy grinned. Then with great ceremony took off one of her sandals. “Don’t tell me, that wasn’t what you had in mind?”
“Not exactly.”
“Good things come to those who wait.”
His gaze dropped over her body for an instant. “Who said I need to wait? Only another five pieces and you’ll be naked.” His eyes met hers. “Assuming you’re wearing underwear.”
“I’m wearing some underwear.” She hadn’t bothered with the bra today.
“Good. Then it’s only four pieces.”
“I need more questions answered before the nakedness happens. Just so you know.”
“Make your move then.”
She leaned forward, studying the board. He would let her have the pieces, she knew that. There was no way she could beat him. But it didn’t matter. He would let her have her way with the questions and that was enough.
Izzy moved her bishop again, trying to threaten his knight. He moved it out of the way but in the process left her threatening another pawn. Engineered, of course, but she’d take it where she could get it. She took the pawn.
“You want to know why I didn’t go to school?” he asked.
She gave him a measuring look, noting his rather complacent air. Predictable, was she? Well, she couldn’t have that. “Hmmm. Maybe. Or maybe not. Maybe I have a better question for you.”
“Ask it then.”
Izzy put the black pawn down beside the first. “You hesitated before, when you called Viktor your friend. Why?”
A curious blankness came over his face. “Because I wasn’t sure if friend was the right term.”
“Why not?”
“That’s not—”
“Then give me a proper answer, Aleks.”
Something hard glittered in his eyes. “You didn’t specify what constitutes a proper answer, Izzy.”
“I told you about my sister. I’ve never told anyone that. Not since she died.” She paused, letting that settle in the silence between them. Then added, “So are you seriously telling me you won’t answer this one question?”
“You didn’t have to tell me about your sister.”
A little pulse of anger went through her. “Hey. You asked me, remember?” She leaned forward. “What are you afraid of?”
“I’m not afraid.”
“Then why are you avoiding answering the question?”
He’d tensed, his posture suddenly way less relaxed than it had been a moment ago. “Viktor taught me how to play chess. And he was more like a mentor than a friend.”
The answer was what she wanted and yet she still sensed more to it than that. Aleks seemed so guarded. So cold. And yet she’d seen his grief the day before. Sensed his hurt. It was there. But it looked to her as if he wanted to hold it close. Protect it. Hide it.
Deny it.
“You loved him,” Izzy said. “Didn’t you?”
Raw anguish flared briefly across his face then vanished, his expression so cold and hard it may as well have been carved from ice. Black lashes veiled his gaze as he looked down at the board. “My turn.”
Denial then. Though, was it the fact that Aleks had loved this mentor of his or the fact that he grieved for him that he was denying?
“Losing someone you love is hard, Aleks. There’s no shame in grief.”
He didn’t say a word, moving his queen and taking her bishop. Only then did he look at her. “Take off your top.”
“But I get to say—”
“I said, take off your top, Izzy.”
His face may have been expressionless, but she could feel anger pouring off him like heat from the sun. “What’s wrong? What did I say?”
“No.” A harsh note in his voice. “No more questions. Just do as you’re damn well told.”
She stared at him. This anger stemmed from pain. She knew it. Recognised it. Because it was the same anger and grief she felt herself about Angie. Yes, Aleks had loved this Viktor and he grieved. So intensely the pressure of his emotions almost filled the room.
Izzy wanted to touch him then. Wanted to show him she understood. That she knew how grief could suffocate you. How it could bleed you dry so that there was nothing left of you.
But that touch would turn into something else and that would leave them in exactly the same place they were now. And that wasn’t what she wanted.
Slowly she reached for the knot that tied the silk around her chest. Undid it.
Giving in now would mean she could push later. And she would push. This man was hurting and she wanted to help him. Comfort him. Because no one had ever done that for her when she’d been grieving, everyone had been too wrapped up in their own pain to give her the shoulder she’d needed to cry on.
His gaze darkened further as she began to unwind the silk from around her body. She said nothing as she did so and neither did he, his eyes never leaving her, as if her body was a lifeline he had to hold on to.
Eventually the silk slipped free. Goose bumps rose over her skin as she pulled the material away from her breasts, baring them. Aleks’s gaze followed her curves, lingering over every inch. He didn’t bother to hide the desire glittering in his eyes.
Okay, so he had a problem with love and grief but apparently no issue with lust.
Izzy felt her own arousal rise. God, she loved the way he looked at her. Loved it so much.
She leaned back on her hands, letting him look. “My turn, I believe.”
Chapter Eight
Izzy was beautiful. Every inch of her. Like a delicate figurine carved out of ivory. A white queen.
Aleks let himself look at her, let himself feel the need for her. Because that was easier to deal with than the anger that fizzed and spat inside him like a pan of boiling oil.
You loved him.
No, he didn’t love Viktor. Love wasn’t allowed. Love had never been allowed. Not since a glass vase had smashed against a wall and the person who was supposed to love him had sent him away.
Izzy shifted on her cushion, moving a knight to threaten his queen.
He barely looked at the board. He didn’t need to see it since it was all in his head and besides, she was a view better than any chess game. Her bare breasts helped keep him on track. Reminded him why she was here. Sex and nothing more.
He moved a bishop and ruthlessly took her knight. “Take off your trousers.”
Izzy lifted an eyebrow at his tone. Then she put her hands on her knees. “No.”
“Take them off, Izzy.”
“I already said no once. How many more times do I have to say it?”
“We had rules.”
“Yeah, and now I’m breaking them.”
A hard knot of emotion gathered in his chest. He wanted to hurl the chessboard away and grab her. Drag her over into his lap and put his hands on her. Forget this feeling. The one that reminded him of the house in Santa Monica the day after he’d flung the vase at the wall and everything had turned to shit. When he didn’t know what he’d done, only that his anger had scared his new mom, had hurt her. For days afterwards he’d tried to keep it locked up inside him and the whole world had suddenly become like glass, where one false move might shatter it. And then it had shattered. And he’d been cut to pieces by the shards.
Aleks stared into Izzy’s calm blue eyes. She would leave if he insisted. She would get up and walk away from him. “Why?” He forced himself to stay where he was. Get some control. Get a handle on what was burning him up inside. “I thought we agreed what the rules were.”
“We did. But now I want to change them.”
“There will be no change.”
“Au contraire. You have one hell of an advantage, Mr. Grandmaster. So if you want this…” and she arched her back a little, making it clear exactly what she meant by this, “…you’re going to have to give something back to me.”
An obvious choice. Either he gave in to her will or he went without her in his bed.
Aleks shifted, the tightness of his jeans making him well aware that his body would not be happy with her leaving. And yet the pain elsewhere, in his chest, made the other choice, submitting to her questions, even more difficult.
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