by Kathy Love
“I come from a very large family. But the ones I’m close to are my father, who, while I don’t see him much, plays a big role in who I am. I occasionally see my twin brothers, Pasha and Andrey. And I was…am very close to my half-sister, Ellina.”
Maksim’s phrasing about his sister instantly caught Jo’s notice, tugging at her. “You said was? Did something happen to your sister?”
Maksim waited to answer as the waiter in crisp white and black came to the table to take drink orders. Jo stuck with just ice water, while Maksim ordered wine.
When the waiter left, Maksim continued, “My sister disappeared about six months ago. I don’t believe she’s dead. I don’t want to believe that—but all leads have gone nowhere. It’s like she just vanished.”
Jo’s heart went out to him, understanding the quiet despair in his voice better than most. But along with her sympathy was the apprehension she’d been feeling, seeing, for the past two days.
“Have the police offered you any suggestions? Are they still looking?”
Maksim’s lips thinned, making his beautiful features appear grim even a little harsh. “They haven’t been any help.”
“So what are you doing now?”
He shook his head. “Following any lead I can find. Waiting.”
Jo nodded, understanding that feeling, too. Waiting, and waiting. Before she realized what she was going to say, it was out. “I had a sister, too. She died when she was ten. I was thirteen.”
Maksim met her eyes, his own darkening to a verdant green. “I’m sorry. That must have been hard.”
“It was.”
The waiter reappeared with a bottle of wine and two glasses. He placed one in front of each of them, then turned to Maksim and uncorked the bottle. The waiter made a big show of pouring the red wine for Maksim’s approval.
Maksim nearly grabbed the wineglass from his hand, his impatience not hidden. He took a sip.
“Fine.”
The waiter filled his glass, then turned to Jo. “For you?”
Jo held up a hand. “No, thank you.”
The waiter set the bottle on the table and hurried away, finally sense—from Maksim stern glare, no doubt—when he wasn’t wanted.
“How did your sister die?” Maksim asked, finally getting to continue this conversation.
Jo hesitated, momentarily wishing for the waiter to return. “She drowned.”
Maksim shook his head. “That must have been awful.”
“It was. It was really awful.” And all those horrible feelings were back in full force. The strange hallucinations, last night’s dream, they had brought all that terror and all the pain of the event right back to the foreground. And she’d spent a lifetime trying to forget, trying to stay ahead of her memories.
“Were you there?”
Jo knew Maksim was just asking out of concern, but she heard censure that wasn’t there. Not from him. But she still heard it, felt it. Just as she did every time she thought about Kara. Every time someone mentioned her. She had been there. She should have saved Kara.
“Yes.” That was all she could manage.
“That must have been frightening and traumatic.”
Jo nodded. It still was. The events of her childhood were never far from her—and closer than ever of late.
“Yes, I always blamed myself for her death. For not saving her.”
“But how could you? You were just a kid yourself.”
Jo nodded, having heard and told herself that very thing dozens and dozens of times.
“It’s just…” She couldn’t believe she was even thinking about going there. She’d never told anyone what she’d nearly admitted to this man. Why? Maybe because he’d lost a sister and understood helplessness. Or maybe because of the strange events of the past few days.
Maybe because she was just cracking up.
“It’s just what?”
Jo started to shake her head, to keep her secret where she always had. Close to her chest. Unknown by anyone else. Even Maggie and Erika didn’t know. But then the words just blurted out as if she couldn’t contain them any longer. Her guilt, her shame, her confusion had finally, after all these years, boiled over.
“I knew she was going to die.”
CHAPTER 13
Maksim stared at her. He hadn’t expected that. “You knew? How?”
She shook her head, and he didn’t think she was going to continue.
The waiter, who looked more than a little tentative, edged up to the table. Maksim almost sent him away, but Jo informed him she was ready to order.
She asked for the salmon. Maksim ordered the filet mignon. The waiter scurried away, obviously uncomfortable with Maksim and his impatience. Maksim didn’t care.
“How did you know?” Maksim asked Jo softly, not willing to let this get brushed aside. She’d started to tell him, and he got the feeling she needed to talk about it.
Jo shook her head again, fixing her attention on straightening and restraightening the cloth napkin on her lap.
Finally when he thought he was just going to have to drop the subject totally—and struggle to find something innocuous to get her to interact, period, she met his eyes.
“I saw it happen. I–I had a premonition.”
Her eyes looked pained, as if she was already preparing for his disbelief, his ridicule.
“That must have scared you.”
She studied him, her gaze roaming his face, still trying to decide if he was being sincere.
“Yes.”
“How did you see it?”
She frowned. “I just saw it. Like a vision, I guess.”
“Well, I get that, but was it like you were seeing it, and you were there, too, and you could have stopped it. Or was it like you just watching it like a show on television? Removed from it.”
“Is there really a difference? I saw it. I could have stopped it.”
Maksim shook his head, even before she finished speaking. “No. That isn’t true. Some premonitions are designed to prepare us for the inevitable. While there are few premonitions that are shown to us so we can stop the events before they unfold.”
Jo frowned, puzzled. “I still don’t see the difference.”
“Well there is. Like I said, if you saw the event with you in it, then maybe, and only maybe,” he added, because premonitions were always dicey at best, and she had to know that for her own piece of mind, “you could have helped.”
She was silent for a moment. “I don’t know. But I know that I didn’t tell anyone. I didn’t tell my parents. I didn’t tell Kara. And that might have saved her.”
“Maybe. But there could have been a reason you didn’t tell anyone.”
Jo laughed at that, the sound sharp and bitter. “Yeah. Because I didn’t take it seriously. I didn’t believe it.”
“Or you were just a kid and it scared the crap out of you.”
Jo stared at him, then shrugged. “I don’t know. But I should have done something.”
“And who’s to say anyone would have believed you, anyway?”
Jo nodded, but still looked as if she didn’t believe him. She straightened her napkin again.
“Just like no one would believe me now,” she muttered.
“What?”
She shook her head and waved her hand as if to brush the murmured words away. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”
A strange sense of disappointment filled his chest. He wanted her to tell him things that worried her. Things that made her happy. Things that just needed to be said.
Then he promptly told himself those feelings were ridiculous, and not what he was actually feeling. He was horny and mistaking a major case of lust for something more. He had been the whole time.
But he couldn’t help himself from asking again, “What are you talking about, Jo?”
She shook her head again, waving off what she’d said as if the words had never passed her lips. Instead she asked him, “How do you know so much about premonitions?”
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He considered pressuring her further, but then decided against it. Pushing didn’t seem to work well with Jo, and he could understand that.
So he let the line of questioning go, setting his attention back to the food the waiter placed before him. He cut into his filet, noting how juicy and tender the meat was. He took a bite, fully preparing to enjoy the expensive cut of meat, but the flavor didn’t satisfy as it should.
He glanced at Jo. She toyed with her salmon, flaking bits off with her fork. Not eating any of it.
Determined not to care—she was a big girl after all—he cut another piece of his steak. But still, even though the seasoning and preparation was perfect, the taste didn’t appease him. Didn’t distract him from his feelings of concern and helplessness.
He put down his fork and regarded Jo.
Again her skin was pallid, making the dark circles under her eyes stand out.
“You’ve got to eat,” he said softly.
She glanced up, seeming almost startled that he was there. For a brief moment, he wanted to jump in her head and see what was happening behind those sad eyes. What was scaring her? What was the secret she was hiding?
But he couldn’t do that. She was clearly having enough problems, and just because he hadn’t seen her thoughts last time, it didn’t mean he wasn’t part of what was going on with her now. He could have affected her somehow.
And she’d affected him somehow, too.
Jo didn’t respond to his gently stated recommendation. She just continued to pick at her food, so he leaned forward and speared a piece of her salmon. Then while she watched him with surprised eyes, he popped the fish in his mouth.
“What are you doing?” she finally managed to sputter, her astonished look causing him to smile.
He reached over and stabbed another piece. He ate it with great relish before answering.
“Well, that’s a pricey meal you’ve got there,” he said, holding back his smile. “So I’m not going to let you just shred it into pieces.”
He started to lance another piece, when she trapped his fork with her own against the plate. He raised an eyebrow, giving her a questioning look.
She cocked her own eyebrow in response, then released his utensil, tapping it away a few times, the metal clinking.
“I get your point,” she muttered grumpily, but Maksim saw a hint of a smile before she dug into her fish.
Maksim watched her for a moment, then began eating his own meal again, the filet suddenly tasting absolutely delicious.
“Thank you for a great dinner,” Jo said as they exited Laforesterie.
Maksim smiled over at her as they walked, and despite herself, her body reacted. He was so handsome, utterly and breathtakingly handsome. His dark hair was sexily disheveled, a slight, wonderful breeze ruffling it. His green eyes twinkling with a naughty little spark. His smile crooked and charming.
And while her body was definitely reacting to his looks, she was also reacting to his behavior tonight. He’d been there when she’d been truly panicked. He’d talked to her, made her laugh. He listened to her talk about her sister. He’d listened to her admission of the premonition—and he hadn’t mocked her, doubted her, or judged her.
And he’d made her eat. Which she had to admit had made her feel so much better. Much less fragile and strung out. It was very, very stupid for her to not eat. She had to remember that. Her blood sugar was touchy at the best of times, but now…
Well, she just appreciated him being there tonight. Against her better judgment. But maybe she could let judgment go, better or otherwise. Just for tonight.
They strolled quietly back toward Esplanade. The streets were pretty quiet as they opted to travel down Royal Street rather than heading toward the busier and wilder Bourbon Street.
“Are you still working at the bar?”
He shook his head. “Once in a while. It’s really not my thing.”
“What, were the scads of adoring women too much for you?” she teased.
“Jealous much?” He winked at her, buffering his teasing.
She pulled a face at him, enjoying that she could be relaxed and playful with this man. Which she hadn’t expected. Again she wondered if she’d been too quick to judge him, just because of Jackson and his failings.
Still lost in her thoughts, it took her a few moments to realize she was back in Esplanade and only a few houses from her rental.
“It’s right up this way,” she said, then realized it was unnecessary. She also thought of something she hadn’t last night in her surprise at finding him at her door. “But you know that. How did you know where I lived last night?”
“I have my ways,” he said with a wiggle of his eyebrows. Then he asked, “Why didn’t you move into Ren’s apartment building? He has some vacant apartments, doesn’t he?”
Jo nodded. “I didn’t want to invade the little love nest they have going on over there.”
“Ah, yeah, I can see that.”
“Don’t get me wrong,” Jo said as she rifled around in her oversized purse for her keys. “I’m very happy for them. I think they are wonderful matches. But well, it’s just—”
“A bit much?”
“Yes,” she said with a pained smile. “Does that make me an awful friend?”
“Not in my book. Love is often an overrated emotion.”
“Hear, hear.” Jo found her keys and unlocked the front door. She paused, the key still in the door.
“Would you like to come up?” She wasn’t sure what had prompted the question. She’d like to blame it on her nerves still getting the better of her. But she knew that wasn’t the case. Not at the moment, anyway. Her mind was too occupied with Maksim.
“I’d love to,” he said, emphasizing the word “love,” which made her laugh.
She opened the door and he followed her up the stairs to her second-floor apartment. Once inside, she asked him if he’d like something to drink.
“I have coffee—it’s decaf, though. And tea—also decaf,” she told him.
He grimaced. “You actually like decaffeinated tea?”
She smiled, not surprised that he had no use for anything that supported moderation—even with caffeine.
“You’d be surprised. It grows on you.” She went to her cupboard, stretching up on her tiptoes to get down a new box of decaf English Breakfast.
Warmth encompassed her as she felt rather than saw Maksim come up behind her. Then his chest pressed against her back as he reached over her to get the tea. He set the box on the counter, then he braced his hands on the worn Formica, caging her in.
She remained still, her breath growing shallow, as her body reacted instantly to his large, powerful body surrounding her.
“Am I growing on you, too?” he murmured, his mouth right beside her ear.
CHAPTER 14
She closed her eyes as a shiver of pure need vibrated through her limbs at the rough velvety reverberation of his voice. Her nipples tightened, the lace of her bra abrading the swollen points.
He nuzzled her, his cheek against hers, his spicy, earthy scent filling her nose, his lips pressing moist fire along the sensitive column of her neck. With a shuddering breath, her head fell back against his shoulder, offering him better access. He kissed down her neck to her collarbone, while her fingers dug into the counter just beside his.
“What are you doing?” But the question was lost before she could even wonder at the answer. Before she could even care if there was an answer.
The hands beside hers left the counter, moving to hold her waist, sliding around her, until she was enfolded in his strong arms, her body still trapped between the counter and his large body. She gave into his prison, to his delicious torture as he nipped the skin of her neck, of her shoulder.
His hands slid up her from her waist, up over her ribcage, to the swell of her breasts. He skimmed over them, his thumbs, his fingers just grazing her hardened nipples.
She groaned, arching into his touch. He cupped her ful
ly, squeezing, shaping the sensitive flesh in her broad palms.
“I’ve thought about this,” he whispered to her. “Imagined touching you. Everywhere.”
She whimpered, because whether she wanted to admit it or not, she’d imagined it, too. She had.
“Will you let me do that? Touch you, everywhere?”
She turned in his arms, her response to wrap her arms around his neck and kiss him.
It was his turn to groan, a low, guttural sound that reverberated deep in his chest, sending a hungry tremble through her body.
He lifted his head, his eyes roaming over her face. “I’m taking your response as a yes.”
She nodded, even as a lucid, practical part of her brain tried to reason with her. But that portion of her brain might as well be trying to reach her by using two cans and some string. Because she could barely hear it. And she didn’t want to hear it. She just wanted to feel.
“I want this,” she whispered.
Maksim smiled, and then she found herself scooped up against his broad chest.
She laughed, surprised by the sudden shift of her world.
“Where is your room?”
She pointed toward the hallway, and he strode in that direction. Once there, he eased her down on her bed, following her down. But he just leaned over her, studying her, his handsome face cast in shadows.
“You’re sure?”
She gazed back up at him, understanding his hesitation. She knew this was a huge change in attitude. But she needed to let go, even if just for this one night. She needed to feel safe, and as unlikely as it seemed, Maksim did make her feel safe.
Maksim could make her forget. She wanted that.
“You don’t want this to be anything more than fun, right?” she asked, reaching up to touch his face, the sharp cut of his jawline, the hint of stubble on his cheeks.
“Just fun,” he agreed.
“No commitments. No strings. No ‘L-word. “
He regarded her for a moment, and she couldn’t quite read his expression. Then he nodded.
“That’s what I want, too.”
He leaned down and kissed her, the touch gentle and sweet and filled with a tenderness that seemed strangely at odds with the idea of just using each other for physical release.
