Chapter Twenty-Seven
“That smells amazing.” Clasping the soft gray sheet, Lily dragged herself upright until she was sitting against the headboard, stomach rumbling.
Alexi had taken her to his apartment last night. A gorgeous, two-story penthouse right on the park with soaring views, steel and glass as far as the eye could see, and not a single unnecessary knickknack to mar the uncluttered landscape. No personal pictures, either.
Not that she’d gotten to explore much. She’d made it two steps inside—mouth dropping open at a place that made her expensive apartment seem like a hovel—before being swept into impatient arms by a scowling man who told her she was taking too long.
They’d made it to his bedroom and ridiculously giant bed two seconds later. Where they’d burnt a ridiculous number of calories last night and earlier this morning.
And she couldn’t regret it.
Even with the small voice in her head shrieking she’d crossed the point of no return.
“Omelets and coffee.” Smile warm and wide, and far less shadowed than the night before, Alexi sauntered shirtless toward the bed with the breakfast tray in hand, his boxers riding low on his hips, revealing the very carved, mouthwatering ridge of his abdomen and the V at his hips.
That familiar tug of need swelled in her belly.
Even now she was desperate for him all over again.
“I like it when you look at me like that.” His voice was a low, husky growl.
Her cheeks flamed. The man had a big enough head—in every sense—she really didn’t need to be making it worse. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
His eyes lit up at the challenge. “No, huh?” He swaggered closer—and then stilled, his expression shifting to one of frustration. “Damn it.” His hold on the tray tightened. “I really want to dump this tray and touch you like I want.” He blew out a breath. “But we need to talk.” He shook his head, muttering. “Now I’m one of those guys who says we need to talk.” His narrowed gaze found hers. “You really are Armageddon.”
She would have been amused by his outrage if her heartbeat wasn’t beating a million miles an hour, the prospect of talking as terrifying to her as it was to him.
But the fact was they’d put this off long enough.
“You’re right.” Tucking the sheet around her, she braced herself. “Let’s talk.”
Heat-filled eyes bore into hers. “Last night changed things. Again.”
“I know.” But to what? Clutching the sheet, she sat up straighter and decided it was time to stop shying away from the most difficult truth. “Tell me why you have a look in your eyes that says no matter how much last night changed things or how much you don’t want to hurt me, you’re going to do it. Even if it means hurting yourself, too.”
He swallowed hard. “I always knew you were too perceptive.”
The silence stretched.
He took the time to put the tray down.
“I have to go back a bit.” There was an edge to his voice that hadn’t been there before. “To Anastasia.”
“I suspected as much.”
He moved to the window, the muscles of his back bunching as he gripped the back of his head and stared down at the street below. “I fell hard for her, but looking back, it’s clear the major thing that drew us together was shared pain. I had a violent bastard for a sperm donor and hers was a ruthless American con artist who’d seduced her mother, stole her family company, and refused to acknowledge her as his.”
Lily drew in a sharp breath. Hearing it aloud was harder than she thought it would be.
“It’s because of him she’s dead.”
“What?” Sugar biscuits. That bombshell sent her lurching upright. “No. Russell might have been many things, but he wasn’t a killer.”
After all, it took one to know one.
Turning around, Alexi pinned her with a bitter stare. “He killed her with indifference, with years of casual rejection and contempt, with message after message that a string of clients and resort properties and two American sons mattered more to him than one illegitimate daughter.”
Her heart ached for Anastasia. And for the man standing in front of her who’d clearly loved Russell’s daughter very much.
“I’m so sorry.” She knew what it was to feel unloved. To have no place or person who would fight for you. But, then again, Anastasia hadn’t been exactly like her. “But she had you. Better than any worthless father.”
For a long while, the faint blare of traffic horns was the only sound.
Until, finally, Alexi spoke, his wide shoulders framed by the blue sky in the window beyond, as if he carried the weight of the world on them. “I wasn’t enough.”
The admission was simple. Spoken in a casual voice. But the tone didn’t fool her.
Here was the crux of Alexi Kazankov.
The missing piece that, true or false, drove him to be ruthless and single-minded in all he did. A small splinter of pain that had embedded in his chest when he was a young man and, despite being coated over by a hard shell of arrogance and ruthless control, had burrowed deeper and deeper over time.
He believed he hadn’t measured up.
No wonder he was determined now to succeed at everything he did.
Unable to hold back any longer, she tumbled head over heels. Her whole self plunging straight into the abyss, smacking straight over the edge into love.
Because in that moment, she gleaned what she hadn’t before. He might not know it, but Alexi Kazankov needed her as much as she needed him. Not just for a night. Or to lose himself in lust. But for the long term.
“You’re more than enough,” she insisted.
“Not for Anastasia. Not for Lena, either. I couldn’t save Lena’s daughter for her. I couldn’t keep her from getting sick herself. I couldn’t replace the life or the respect or the legitimacy or the family she lost. The only thing I can do for the woman who took me in as if I was her own is give her the only piece of family legacy left—the company that was her birthright.”
Lily’s heart slammed against her ribs, her love for him expanding until she couldn’t breathe.
Closing her eyes, she tried to find some sense of where to go from here. To find a way past the terrible irony that the very reason she loved him was the reason he could never choose her.
“And you’re telling me this now, why?” she asked. “Because you’re hoping this information will affect my plans, right? Make me want to give you the company—and ensure you don’t have to trample me underfoot yourself.”
“Yes.” He didn’t even hesitate.
“Another form of ruthlessness?” Bitterness laced her voice.
“Look at me. This isn’t a game.” Big hands closed around her shoulders and pulled her to the edge of the bed, straight into his arms. “It’s not about tactics or maneuvers. I’ve never brought anyone to my place before, Lily. This is different. You and me…it’s different. I’m hoping you trust me, trust what’s happening between us, to realize this isn’t about winning at all.”
“I do.” But it still didn’t erase the thin thread of unreasonable anger that pulsed inside at the notion that even without his saying it aloud she was being made to choose. That falling in love might mean the woman she’d scratched and clawed to become was swallowed up once again.
His gaze bore into her. “That company birthright is all Lena has left of her family, of the legacy she wanted for Anastasia, but it’s not as simple for me as it once was. I still want it for her. But not if it destroys you. The last thing I want is to be the instrument of your destruction. You need to trust me on that.”
Could she?
If she sold Alexi the company, she’d be breaking not only a promise, but one of the main stipulations of Russell’s will. She’d be out. She’d have failed.
But to go on as she had…to do nothing to right a potential wrong and continue to capitalize on an injustice was unacceptable as well. Even more so when it came at the cost of hurting Alexi and those he cared about.
Either way, it felt like she would lose. Big time.
As if he sensed her fear, Alexi pulled her close, his cheek resting against her hair. “Fight with me, solnyshko. Don’t give up now.”
For the first time in a long while, Lily wasn’t sure fighting was the answer. But giving in and giving up didn’t sound good, either.
Lord, she loved him. Loved his strength and his arrogance and the very intensity that was threatening her well-laid plans.
“Okay.” She took a breath. Squeezed him back. “Where do you think we go from here?”
He blew out a shuddered breath. As if he’d been holding it this whole time. “Meet Lena.” He squeezed her hand. “Judge for yourself. Make the choice yourself. Maybe together the three of us can find a way out of this mess. It comes down to trust.”
Terror mixed with hope. Trust wasn’t her forte. Trust hadn’t worked out for her in the past.
But she’d leaped already, straight over the edge. All that was left was to see where she’d land.
“Let’s do this.” She cradled his jaw in her hands. “I would be honored to meet the woman who took such good care of you all those years.”
The look in his eyes removed the last of her wariness. “You won’t be sorry.”
Maybe. Maybe not.
He wanted her. No question. Cared for her, too. But enough? She had no idea.
Then his mouth slanted over hers and everything else but his taste and touch was forgotten.
Even the breakfast tray.