His Ward

by Lena Matthews

  “So you’re saying you didn’t fire him.”

  “Yes. I didn’t fire him.” Misha turned back and faced her. He eyed her over the crystal glass as he took a small drink of the amber ale.

  “Really?”

  “Really. He quit.”

  Of course there was a catch. “Semantics.” Irritated, Tionne crossed her arms over her breasts. “Really, Misha? You’re going to try and win this argument on semantics.”

  “I’m not trying to win anything,” he said, remaining stubbornly nonchalant. “I’m just answering your questions. I didn’t fire him. He quit.”

  “And he just came to that conclusion all on his own.”

  Misha shrugged. “I might have been the one to bring it up, but in the end he agreed it was best for both parties and his health if he sought employment elsewhere.”

  Tionne didn’t believe that for a minute. “Was it before or after you hit him?”

  He paused for a second and wrinkled his brow, as if he were seriously giving her question some thought. “After, I believe. I could be wrong, though.”

  The blunt way he answered her question without a trace of compunction in his tone infuriated her. Tionne dropped her arms back to her sides and stared at him in disbelief. “Have you no shame?”

  “I’ve done nothing to be ashamed of,” Misha said coolly. “In fact, I think I did the world a favor by explaining to him exactly what the word ‘no’ means, because the next woman he dates might not have family as understanding as I am.”

  “You shouldn’t have been there in the first place. You promised, Misha.” Tionne couldn’t help the hurt that crept into her voice. “You promised, and then you went back on your word.”

  He walked back over to where she was and set his drink on the desk. “I kept my word.”

  “The hell you did.”

  Misha went perfectly still. “Watch your language.”

  That was the last straw. Deliberately, Tionne rose on her tiptoes so her face was closer to his own. “Fuck. You.” She enunciated the words and was rewarded by the instant look of fury that filled Misha’s eyes.

  “This conversation is over.” His words were as cold as the look on his face, but Tionne refused to back down on this.

  “The hell it is.” This wasn’t going to be over until she decided it was.

  “You’re acting like a child,” he snapped, his legendary cool absent in the face of her rebellion.

  She took several steps away from him and shook her head. “No, you’re treating me like one, and it ends now.”

  Misha snorted. “Because this tantrum you’re throwing is the exact way to show me you’re an adult.”

  “This is not a tantrum. This is me”—Tionne pointed to herself, then to him—“telling you how I feel, and, as usual, you’re not listening.”

  “I assure you, I’ve heard every word you’ve said.”

  “Then how could you go there after promising me you wouldn’t?”

  “I never promised I wouldn’t handle things,” he said with a stubborn tilt of his chin.

  “Yes, you did.” Had the entire world gone mad or just her half of it?

  “No, I didn’t. I said I wouldn’t do it in your father’s name.”

  “But you did.”

  Misha shook his head. “No, I hurt him because I wanted to,” he said with far too much pleasure for her peace of mind. “It had nothing to do with your father.”

  “Are you really going to split hairs about this?”

  “I kept my word to you and took care of the situation all at the same time. I really don’t see what the problem is.”

  Tionne stared at him blankly for several seconds. “Are you serious?”

  “Utterly.”

  “My personal life is not a situation you need to handle, Misha. I can take care of myself.”

  “And is the other night proof of that?”

  His dismissive words made her want to pick up the stapler on his desk and bang him in the head. “No, the other night is proof that you’ll do anything, say anything, to get what you want.”

  “Yes,” he agreed without hesitation. “I would.”

  “You admit it.”

  “Of course I do.” He sounded disgusted that she would think otherwise. “You know me, Tionne. My moral compass doesn’t always point north. I didn’t lose any sleep over hitting him, and it was extremely satisfying to see him bleed. The truth of the matter is, he’s lucky I didn’t kill him for what he did to you because, trust me, I wanted to. Hell, I still do.”

  “Are you crazy? He could have you arrested. He could sue you. He could—”

  “Try,” he said with a cold smile. “I welcome it.”

  Over the years, Tionne had heard countless stories about this side of Misha, but she’d never experienced it firsthand. And it left her not only dazed but also slightly scared. She knew he would never purposely hurt her, but realizing the ends to which he would go for her was a rude awakening. “Misha. You can’t fight my battles. God, this wasn’t even a battle. It was an accident.”

  “One I assure you he’ll never have again.” His mouth tightened, and his eyes clouded over with unsuppressed rage.

  “You can’t do this.” Frustrated, she took a step closer. “You can’t just beat up anyone who’s mean to me.”

  “Watch me,” he said, matching her step with one of his own until they were just inches part. “As long as I draw breath, I will go to any means, do anything to protect you, even if it’s from yourself.”

  “Did I come at a bad time?”

  The sound of Nicholi’s voice brought an end to their stare down, but not to their battle.

  “Yes,” Misha said at the exact same moment Tionne said, “No.”

  “Okay,” Nicholi said warily. “What’s going on?”

  Tionne turned on him. “Don’t pretend like you don’t know. That you weren’t Beavis to his Butthead.”

  Nicholi’s eyebrows shot up. “I think I’ll come back so you two can finish talking.”

  “No, really.” Tionne looked at Misha, who was as rigid as a statue, then back to Nicholi, who just looked uncomfortable. “I’m going to go. You stay and talk to him. Lord knows I can’t.”

  And for the first time in her life, she didn’t even want to try. Without another word to either man, Tionne stormed from the room. She was beyond done.

  Chapter Five

  “I have to say I expected you to have at least a two-day leeway before the shit hit the fan. My math skills must be getting rusty.”

  Misha wasn’t appreciative of Nicholi’s attempt at humor. Irritated, he grabbed his tumbler off the desk and downed the rest of the amber liquor in one shot. The whiskey burned going down, but it was nothing compared to the hollow pain he felt in his chest. “I’m glad you’re amused.”

  “I’m not, but I’m also not surprised. I told you this was going to happen.”

  “Do I look as if I’m in the mood for an I told you so?” He set the empty glass back on the desk, then dropped into the chair and leaned back, closing his eyes briefly.

  “Nope,” Nicholi said as he rounded the desk and came to his cousin’s side. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to give you one anyway. I’m your older cousin. It’s my job to make your life as difficult as possible. Look, for the record, I’m not saying Troy didn’t deserve it either. We both know he got off lightly. You weren’t the only one who wanted a piece of him for what he did to Little Bit. I would have loved a minute alone with him as well.”

  “Then what’s your problem?”

  “Your lack of communication skills, for starters.” Nicholi rested against the desk and crossed his arms over his chest. “You are one of the smartest, most levelheaded men I know, but when it comes to Tionne, you lose all semblance of rationality. She’s your Achilles’ heel, man. Your kryptonite. Your—”

  “I get your point,” Misha interrupted drily before his cousin could get anymore cliché. “I care very much for her. Everyone knows this.”
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  “You more than care for her. You love her.”

  Misha tried to keep his face blank, no easy task since he was simmering on the inside. “Of course I do. We both do.”

  “That’s not what I mean, and you know it. You’re in love with her. In a way I’ll never be. And we both know it.”

  Misha stilled. “Watch yourself, Nicholi. You’re pushing me.”

  “So.” Nicholi snorted, clearly not impressed with Misha’s threat. “Whatcha going to do, little cousin. Fire me? Try to beat me up too?”

  “Try?” Misha arched an eyebrow. Did everyone question his fighting skills? First Tionne and now Nicholi. If they kept it up, Misha was liable to get a complex.

  “Yeah, I said it.” Nicholi nodded. “You can fight the world if you have to, but it doesn’t change anything anymore than your attempt to ignore what you really feel for her.”

  “You’re mistaken. I love her like a little si—”

  Nicholi held his hand up. “If you say sister, I’m going to throw up, because I’m your cousin, and I sure in hell hope you don’t look at me the same way you look at her when you think no one is paying attention.”

  “I don’t like what you’re implying.” Nicholi was seeing too deeply into something Misha himself wasn’t ready to admit to aloud.

  “Why? Because it makes you human?”

  “No, because it would make me a pervert,” he snapped. “I’ve known her since she was four. I lived in her house, for God’s sake.”

  “For what…two years? Big deal. You’re not related to her. You didn’t grow up fighting over toys or chores.”

  That didn’t matter, and for the life of him, Misha couldn’t understand why his cousin didn’t see it. “When her father died…”

  “You did the right thing, but she’s an adult now, Misha. You don’t have to keep protecting her. Especially not from the way you feel about her.”

  “What do you think her father would think of what you’re suggesting? Or Tionne? She would hate me.”

  “First, her father’s dead. So who gives a fuck what he would think? But let’s just say for shits and giggles he was still around. Do you really believe he would look at the man you are and not see how you would be a wonderful catch for his daughter? And Tionne,” Nicholi scoffed. “Her hating you is just laughable.”

  Amusement was the last emotion Misha felt at the very thought. “You find something funny about her hating me?”

  “No, it’s funny how clueless you are when it comes to her.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Nicholi sighed. “Exactly.”

  “You’re giving me a headache.” Misha rubbed his hand over his brow.

  “Please, you’re giving yourself—”

  Before Nicholi could finish speaking, the intercom on the phone dinged. “Misha.”

  Misha turned his chair so he was facing his desk, then leaned forward and pressed the button on his phone. “Yes.”

  “Mr. Perrot from the logistics department is on line two, sir.”

  Misha frowned. What in the world did Tionne’s boss want? Misha really hoped Perrot wasn’t calling about Tionne missing work because in his current mood, Misha was liable to tear the other man a new one. “And…”

  There was a slight hesitation, before Alba spoke again. “He said Tionne quit. No explanation, no warning. She just walked into his office and quit.”

  Shock robbed him of speech for a few seconds. The same couldn’t be said of Nicholi, who let out a low deep curse. “I see,” Misha said calmly once he was able to form words again.

  “I have him on the line if you want to speak with him, but Mr. Abbasi and the other shareholders of PARACO are on Skype for the conference call. Which would you like me to put you through to?”

  Neither. The only person he wanted to talk to right now was Tionne, but that would have to wait. “Tell Perrot I’ll call him later. When you’re done with that, connect me to the conference and then come in and take notes.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Misha,” Nicholi said as soon as the line clicked.

  “We are not going to discuss this right now.” Misha picked up his remote and pivoted his chair completely around so he was facing the back wall. He clicked a button on the remote, which caused the wall to slide apart and reveal a large screen. “We have work to do. Everything else can wait until later.” When work wasn’t pressing and he was a hell of a lot calmer. Tionne was getting a reprieve…be it ever so brief.

  * * * *

  Several hours and two tense phone calls later, Misha stood outside Tionne’s condo doing something he hadn’t done ever since she’d lived there. He was knocking at her door and doing his best to wait patiently for her to answer. The key was practically burning a hole in his pocket, mocking him for not using it, but Misha hadn’t come to fight. He wanted to talk, and even though it went against his baser urges, he waited the two minutes it took for her to finally open the door.

  When she did, it wasn’t all the way, just enough so he could see her, but not enough for him to come all the way in. Despite it being only a little past nine, she was dressed as if she were ready for bed, in lime-green shorts covered with coffee cups and polka dots paired with a coordinating hot-pink tank top with the same coffee cup design. If it weren’t for the pissed-off look on her face, Misha would say she looked downright adorable.

  “Wow.” Tionne clasped her hands together. “I suddenly feel the need to pray.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Because the world must be coming to an end. You didn’t barge in.”

  “If quitting was your way of trying to get my attention, it worked.”

  She placed one hand on her hip and the other on the doorknob. “That wasn’t the point, but I’m not going to say I’m sad about the outcome.”

  “Are you going to invite me in, or do you really want to do this in the hallway?”

  Tionne stepped back. “Of course you can come in. You do own it, after all.”

  The bitterness she used to fling his words from the previous night back at him hit their mark dead-on. “If ownership is the only reason you’re allowing me to enter, it might be best if I stay out here.”

  Tionne released her hold on the door and turned around and began to walk farther into the room. “If you want to come in, come in. It doesn’t really matter one way or the other to me.”

  Misha bit back a curse as he came in the room. If this was a sign of what he would have to deal with for the next hour or so, it was safe to say it wasn’t going to be a pleasant conversation. Irritated, he shut the door behind him but didn’t lock it. With his guards stationed in the hall, he knew they’d be fine, but he shut it so he and Tionne could have some privacy. He followed her into the living room, where she took a seat on the couch. He watched as she picked up the remote control and pointed it at the TV. For a second, he thought she was going to turn up the program she’d been watching in an attempt to tune him out, but to his surprise, she turned it off instead, then set the remote next to her and looked over at him with clear disdain in her eyes. “Well?”

  Misha had been prepared to deal with a yelling Tionne or a pouting one, not this cool person in front of him. It threw him off a bit. “You want to tell me why you quit?”

  “I thought it was pretty obvious. I don’t want to work for you anymore.”

  “That part was obvious,” he agreed as he slipped off his suit jacket and folded it in half. He laid it over the back of her armless slipper chair, then placed his hands in his pockets as he faced her. “But I want to know why.”

  The look she shot him was scathing. “Because you’re a liar, and I don’t want to work for a liar.”

  “Then that leaves every job in the free world out.” Misha held his temper in check, but just barely. “Planning on opening your own business now?”

  “Is everything a joke to you?”

  “Do I look amused?”

  “No, you look like an asshole.”


  Misha ran his hand through his hair to keep himself from wrapping it around her pretty little neck. She was purposely testing his patience, but he would not give her what she wanted, which was for him to blow up just so she could prove he was the bad guy. It was unnecessary. He knew already what type of man he was, which was just one more reason he needed to keep a wall between them. “You know, I’m getting real tired of your mouth.”

  “And I’m getting real tired of your controlling ways. So I guess that makes us even.”

  Misha clenched his jaw so tight, pain shot up to his temple. “I don’t try to control you.”

  “That’s because you don’t have to try. You’ve perfected it to an art. I mean you’re so damn good, I didn’t even realize just how wrapped up in you I was.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Are you kidding me? Misha, you control every aspect of my life, from where I work, to where I live, to my bank accounts. The one part of my life that was just mine, that belonged solely to me, was my personal life, and bam, you just steamrolled right over that as well.”

  “He. Hurt. You,” Misha bit the words out. “Or did you somehow manage to forget that? Better question, why are you so quick to forgive him, someone you barely know, but not me, someone you’ve known for practically your entire life?”

  “Because he doesn’t matter to me. You do, and what you did hurt me, far worse than he ever could.”

  Her words stunned him into silence for a moment. If she’d wanted him to feel like shit, she’d succeeded, which was a miracle because he still didn’t think he was in the wrong for doing what he did to Troy, but now he was questioning the way he went about it. And that was something he wasn’t happy about. Misha wasn’t one to deal in what-ifs. “Tionne…”

  “No, look, my eyes have always been wide open where you’re concerned, and while I knew you weren’t a saint, I never thought you were a liar. At least not to me.”

  “I could not sit back and do nothing,” he said huskily. “Do you want me to say I’m sorry?”

  “No, because that would be another lie,” she said simply.

  “No, it wouldn’t be, because I’m truly sorry I hurt you.”