“It’s okay,” she said softly as he swore, covering his hand with her own. “It’s not a race, Aleks. I’m not going anywhere.”
At that he went utterly still, and she knew as soon as she’d said that she’d touched something raw and painful for him. Was he afraid she would leave again? Is that what this desperation was about?
Her heart broke a little in recognition. She’d left him. Just like all the other people in his life had left him. Just as she had been left.
“Aleks,” she said, “I’m not going to leave. I’m staying until you tell me to go. Understand?”
He stood so close, his hands on her hips, his head bent. And she thought he might deny it, ask what she was talking about, but he didn’t. All he did was nod and continue with what he was doing. But this time his hands were slower as if his desperation had eased.
Izzy began to help, setting the pace for him so that sliding her clothes off became not so much a desperate necessity but part of the foreplay. She shivered as his fingers brushed her bare skin, easing down her underwear so she could step naked out of the confining fabric.
But this wasn’t about her now. This was about him.
As he straightened, standing over her, she looked up into his taut, fierce face. Had anyone ever taken their time over him? Had a woman ever touched him because she loved him and not because she wanted him inside her? Had he ever been held?
But she knew the answer to that.
“I want to undress you, Aleks,” she said softly.
His hands were already at the hem of his T-shirt in preparation for taking it off over his head. “I can’t wait, Izzy. Later.”
She stepped forward and grabbed his wrists. Looked into his eyes. “No. Now.”
For half a second he looked like he was going to argue. So she began to do it anyway, undoing the laces on the sneakers he wore, taking them off one by one. Pushing his T-shirt up, rising on tiptoes to pull it off over his head, letting her hands slide over his chest and down to the buttons on his jeans. She heard his breath catch. His fingers gripped her wrists as if to stop her, but she shook him off and eventually his hands dropped to his sides. He was still tense, yet that simple gesture made the tears start in her eyes.
Yes, he did trust her. Yes, he did want this. Somewhere behind his denials, he wanted this.
Izzy undid the button on his fly then drew down the zipper, taking her time.
“Hurry,” he ordered in a thick, rough voice.
“No.” She looked up at him. “I’m not doing fast. I’m not doing desperate. Not this time. I’m going to go slow and take my time, and you want to know why, Aleks? Because you’re worth it, okay? You’re worth taking the time over.”
Something flared in his eyes. A hot, bright spark. “I—”
“Don’t speak. Just accept it.” She slid her hands under the waistband of his jeans then began to ease them down.
Aleks said nothing, but she could hear his breathing. The harsh rush of it as she drew his boxers down along with his jeans. The catch as she knelt at his feet, handling him the way he’d handled her the night before, lifting each foot out of the tangle of fabric.
When he was naked, she rose. “Lie on the bed.”
This wasn’t him handing her the control like last night. This was her taking it from him.
Because now she knew exactly what she was going to do. She knew exactly how to show him just how very worth it he was.
“What are you going to do, Izzy?” His voice sounded even rougher.
“I’m going to tie you up, Aleks.”
He’d never done that before, given someone full control. And every defensive mechanism he had screamed a warning. Bad idea. Especially when the person in charge was Izzy. Because if anyone could get under his guard, it was her.
Hasn’t she got under your guard already?
Aleks tried not to think about that. Tried to tell himself it was okay. Because he knew if he refused her, she would leave. He knew it like he knew the sky was blue.
“Don’t be afraid,” Izzy said into the quiet of the room. She didn’t add that she wouldn’t hurt him, because it wasn’t pain he was afraid of. As she well knew.
His heart raced. She stood naked in front of him, and he wanted her so badly he could barely think. Like he had a constant scream in his head and touching her was the only thing that could quiet it.
But the thought of giving her control made his muscles tight. Made the fight or flight reflex kick in with a vengeance. Those slender fingers of hers would open him up, take him apart. And then he’d be…vulnerable.
His return to Moscow had created a political shitstorm about the adoption of Russian kids by foreigners, especially Americans. The media had pounced on him for interviews, asking him all sorts of questions including whether he’d cried when he left. “Yes,” he’d said. He’d only been seven. “Men don’t cry,” the journalist had told him. So he hadn’t. Not ever again.
“Trust me, Aleks,” Izzy said.
Trust her. Did he? Her eyes held his, the look on her face so determined and yet full of fearful hope. She wanted him to trust her.
He could do this, couldn’t he? It didn’t need to be such a big deal.
“Okay.” His voice didn’t sound like his own. “I trust you.”
The lines around her mouth eased, and she smiled in the way he was becoming addicted to. “Then do as you’re told and go lie on the bed, Mr. Grandmaster.”
It took a minute or two for her to find the scarves he’d used on her before. And then another couple for her to tie them securely around his wrists. He had to tell her how to tie them, but she did a good job, making sure they were tight. He didn’t leave himself an escape clause. The material of the scarves was so thin he could rip them without too much effort.
At least that’s what he told himself.
Izzy left the room for a few moments and then came back with the long blue piece of silk she’d been wearing as a sarong. The blindfold.
Fear curled low in his gut at the sight of it, but he forced it away. Told himself it was irrational. And yet when she gently put the fabric over his eyes, he wanted to pull it away, wanted to rip away the scarves that tied his wrists together over his head and get out.
Suffocation slid long fingers around his throat, gripping on tight. Cutting off his air.
He didn’t want to be vulnerable. To be at someone else’s mercy. Not again.
Then just when he thought he couldn’t bear it, he felt her touch. A light finger trailing along his chest, stroking gently.
“You’re beautiful, Aleks,” she murmured. “Did you know that?”
Her palms were on his chest now and the warmth of her touch began to settle down through him, easing his tight muscles, the sense of suffocation that had been gripping him.
“But you’re not only beautiful.” A hand settled above his heart. “You’re passionate too. Oh, you hide it so very well, but I can see it when you look at me.” Her palm moved, stroking him. “Do you know how that makes me feel? God, I can’t even begin to describe it, but it’s pretty much the best thing in the world. You make me feel beautiful and sexy. And special. I think that’s what I like most, that feeling special.” Her mouth brushed the spot where her hand had rested, a soft kiss. “And you’re protective too. I liked when we were on Patpong Road and you put yourself between me and those aggressive touts. That made me feel special too.”
Aleks closed his eyes behind his blindfold, his chest tight, a pain gathering behind his breastbone. “Izzy…no. You’re just seeing what you want to see.”
“I’m not, Aleks. I’m not stupid, you know.” A hand slid down his leg, her palm against his skin, and back up again. Stroking him. “I’m talking about the man you are behind all your defenses and don’t try to tell me that man isn’t there. A man who didn’t care, who couldn’t love, wouldn’t have bought me a bracelet. Or run me a bath. With freaking bubbles.”
Another touch, on the other side of him now, her mouth pressing o
n his shoulder, fingers trailing up his arm, stroking his biceps. “That man wouldn’t be grieving the death of a friend, Aleks.”
He shut his eyes tighter, pressure building inside him. A terrible, crushing pressure. Because none of that was true. None of it. “Izzy…” The breath got stuck in his throat. “Stop…” Stop touching me. Stop making me…feel.
But she didn’t stop. “I love you, Aleks.” And then he felt the satin warmth of her skin against his, her body so close. A finger stroking along his collarbone. “I want to show you that you’re precious to me.” A kiss against his throat. “I want to make you feel as good as you make me feel. I want you to feel what it’s like to be loved.”
No one had ever touched him this way. With love and with reverence. Like he was cherished. Like he was special.
“Izzy…” The pressure became so intense it felt like he was breaking apart. “Don’t…don’t…”
She kissed him. His mouth. His throat. His chest. Her hands on his stomach, sliding along his hips, down his thighs, over his cock.
“Let me love you, Aleks. Please.”
His muscles strained with the need to rip everything away. To take it all off and to run. Run as far away as he could get from her. But now she was on him, touching him, and he couldn’t because he would hurt her and he didn’t want to hurt her.
The warm scent of her hair so close, silken strands of it brushing his face where it wasn’t covered by the cloth. Fingers sliding around his cock, squeezing gently, making all thoughts of running get lost in a sudden rush of need.
She touched him, stroked him, pleasure exploding in his brain like a firework. A groan escaped him. It was so good. But he didn’t deserve it. Didn’t deserve any of it. He was just a fucked-up, orphaned kid who’d blown the one chance he’d had at a home. He tried to tell her, but the words scrambled up inside his head as he felt her roll a condom down over him, slowly, so slowly, driving the pleasure even higher.
And then the long, liquid slide of her body taking him inside her.
He arched on the bed as she settled down onto him, the warm weight of her so good and yet an exquisite torture. Her palms pressed down on his chest as she steadied herself. Then she pulled the blindfold off him.
All he could see was her. Flushed and beautiful. Her soul in her vivid eyes.
She began to move slowly and deeply, and he told her she was beautiful in Russian because he couldn’t remember the words in English. A whole language lost because of her. Because of how she made him feel.
It became harder and harder to speak, the tension pulling so tight he shook.
And then, just before it all broke him apart, she said, “I love you, Aleks. And I don’t care if you think you’re not capable of returning it. I don’t care if you think you’re not worthy of it. I love you anyway.”
No one had ever said those words to him before. No one had ever made him believe them.
Aleks felt something erupt in his chest. Something he’d buried so far down he’d thought it gone forever. It flooded through him, an emotion intense and raw and centred completely on the woman who’d brought it to life.
He cried out as the climax shattered him, as naked emotion tore through him, and abruptly he wrenched his wrists apart, tearing the fine silk of the scarves. Pushing himself upright, he wrapped his arms around Izzy, and buried his face against her neck. Inhaling her scent. Drawing her into him as she’d taken him into her.
He couldn’t speak. Couldn’t utter a single word. So he didn’t. He just held her.
And wept.
Izzy closed her eyes and laid her cheek against the black silk of his hair. He held her so tight she could barely breathe, and yet she didn’t care. She felt his powerful body shaking, the tearing sounds of his breathing loud in her ear.
Tears filled her eyes, her heart aching for him. She held on to him for a long, long time until his breathing slowed and the sounds of his grief and sorrow and anger had faded.
Then he let her go, pushing her gently off him and sliding off the bed.
Cold slid over her skin as he moved toward the bathroom and shut the door behind him. So that was it? She’d given him everything, and he responded with his close-up and retreat thing again?
But just as devastation began to bite, the door opened again and he came out, moving over to the bed.
“Aleks?”
He didn’t answer, merely climbed back onto the bed and turned her onto her side and sliding his arms around her, pulling her in close to his body, her spine pressed to his chest. The cold feeling eased and for a long time neither of them said anything.
“I’m afraid, Izzy,” Aleks said at last, so quietly she almost didn’t hear.
He didn’t add to it at first, but then he didn’t need to. She knew what he was talking about. His arms tightened. “I’m afraid you’ll leave. You’ll send me away.”
“I won’t.” She put her hands over the arms wrapped around her. “Not unless you want me to.” She took a little breath. “You know that, right?”
“I tried,” he said after a moment. “With my mom. I tried so hard to be good. To do the right things. To do what she told me. But I was so young and life in Russia was so different to life in the States. I thought I was doing everything right. I thought I was her son, a good son. But I wasn’t. I got angry. I hurt her and she sent me away.” A soft breath against the back of her neck. “I don’t want to make the same mistake, Izzy. Not with you.”
Her heart broke for him, cracked straight down the middle. She turned in his arms, looked into his dark face. Saw the fear and the pain. “You won’t. But it’s okay to be scared. Hey…” She gave him a watery smile. “I’m scared shitless too.”
Silver eyes searched her face. “What scares you?”
“You leaving me like Angie left me. You changing your mind and deciding you don’t want me after all. Me not being what you want. A thousand different things.”
“And yet you came back.”
“Yeah, I did.” She pushed his hair back from his forehead, a gentle touch she couldn’t help.
“Why?”
“Because I know what it’s like to feel like you’ve been abandoned. To feel that no one cares about you. Everyone that mattered in your life has left you, Aleks. And I didn’t want to be one more.”
He stared at her. As if he’d never seen anything like her in all his life. “But Izzy… This is going to be hard for me. I don’t know if I can have a relationship with anyone. I don’t know if I can say the words you want to hear. Be the person you need.”
She smiled. “See, that’s where you’re wrong. You don’t need to be anyone. You are the person I need. Just the way you are right now.”
Emotion crossed his face, anguish and denial. “I don’t know if I can accept that.”
“That’ll take time.” She touched his cheek. “All you need to know now is that I know you care. I can see it in your eyes when you look at me. And I can feel it when you hold me.” Her fingers drifted to his mouth. “That’s enough for me right now.”
“I…don’t deserve this.”
“Yeah, you do, Aleks. Everyone deserves love.”
There was a long silence as he looked at her, studying her. And under his gaze she felt like the most beautiful, fascinating creature on earth.
“Are you going to stay?” he asked very softly.
“Well, I did just check out of my hostel so…” She grinned. “I’m going to need somewhere to stay the night.”
“Good.” He released her, slipping out of bed.
Izzy frowned. “Where are you going?”
“Wait there.”
He went out of the bedroom, coming back a couple of seconds later with something in his hand. “Here,” he said, holding something out to her.
She blinked, looking down at the thing resting in his palm. A chess piece, beautifully carved.
“What’s this?”
“The white queen. Viktor carved her for me. She’s the last piece I won off hi
m. She completed my set.”
“She’s beautiful.”
“She’s for you.”
Her throat constricted. She looked up at him. “What?”
“I want you to have her.”
The constriction in her throat tightened even further. She knew what that set must mean to him. And for him to give her a piece… “Why?”
“Because…” He stopped, as if trying to find the words, then went on. “Because the queen is the most powerful piece on the board. The strongest. The most important. And that’s how I see you. That’s what you mean to me.” He took her hand, placed the queen in her palm and closed her fingers over it. “You’ve always been a queen, Izzy. My white queen. I think I knew it from the moment I saw you.”
She didn’t expect “I love you” from him, not when he barely even knew what love was. But this…this was pretty close.
Tears filled her eyes, but she blinked them back and gripped the chess piece tightly in her palm instead. “I’m going to have to go home at some point, Aleks. Back to Auckland. I need to see my parents.”
He nodded. “But not tomorrow.”
Izzy gripped the queen tighter. “Why not tomorrow?”
“Because I have a tournament to play in.” A slow-burning smile curved his mouth. A smile that took her breath away. “And I can’t come with you until after the tournament.”
She swallowed. “You want to come with me? Back home?”
“Of course.” He reached out, touched her face. “I’m not letting you go, Izzy. Once I take a piece, it’s mine.”
A small knot inside her heart unravelled. “You’ve taken me, have you? In that case you should have given me the black knight because now you’re mine too.”
His smile deepened. “I’m a knight not a king?”
“A king? Who can only move one square at a time? No way. Of course you’re a knight. You’re strong, protective. Deadly.” She slid her arms around his waist and grinned. “And you’ve got a slight kink in your move.”
Aleks laughed.
It was the best sound she’d heard all year.
Epilogue
Aleks looked around the lounge of his Santa Monica house and frowned. In the three months since he’d left it, he’d had a caretaker come in to mow the lawn and air the whole place out once a week but even so, the house felt unlived in. Actually, no, it felt more like a hotel room. Somewhere to stay not to live. How odd. He’d never noticed that before.
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