Jaded (32 page)

Lilya stared down at the ring, stunned. “What did you say?” She reached out and touched the box, thinking maybe she was imagining it. But, no, it was sturdy under her fingertips.

“I love you and I want to spend my life with you.”

She glanced outside at the retreating carriage and imagined the happy family within. Pressing her lips together at the stab of pain in her chest and stomach at what would never be hers, she looked up at him. “I can’t have children, Alek. Remember? I can’t give you what you want.” Unless they adopted. That was always a possibility.

He gripped her chin, staring down at her fiercely. “I know that, Lilya.” He paused. “I love you. I want to be with you no matter what. Children or no children. Anyway, we can always adopt.” There could never have been a more perfect response.

She dropped her gaze to the ring, smiling. It was the first one she’d ever seen that she wanted to accept. Her finger ached to wear it. She took the box from him carefully, her smile fading. “I love you too,” she whispered. “But you’re not the only one I love.” She looked up into his face to gauge his reaction. “It wouldn’t be fair to you if I accepted this ring with the weight of Byron still on my heart.”

“I know that. He loves you too.”

Something sparked inside her chest, then went cold. Her face twisted and she blinked away sudden tears. “Then why did he let me go?”

“He’s afraid.” Alek closed his eyes for a moment and let out a long, deep breath. “I was afraid too. Did you just say you loved me?”

She smiled. “Yes.” Reaching up, she cupped his cheek. “I love you, Alek.” Gently, she pressed her lips to his.

He offered the ring to her again. “So, do you accept?”

Her smile faded and she backed away.

He snapped the box closed. Despair clouded his face. “Lilya?”

“You must understand. Being that I also love Byron, this is complicated, Alek.”

“Not for me. Byron is my best friend and I love him as the closest thing I will ever have to a brother. You love him, as he loves you. You also love me, as I love you. We all love each other.” He motioned at the door through which Evangeline, Anatol, and Gregorio had just exited. “We wouldn’t be the first to join in such a relationship.” He shook his head. “It’s not complicated.”

She turned and walked into the living room. Alek followed. She went to the window and looked out. “But he’s not here, Alek.
You’re
the one who came. I need
him
to come to me, tell me what’s in his heart. I need to look into his eyes and see it’s the truth.”

Alek pulled her against his body and she tucked her head beneath his chin. “He loves you so much that your rejection would tear him apart. He didn’t want to end up another ring box in your drawer. You have to admit, he had cause to suspect he’d become one.”

“What made you so brave?”

He didn’t answer her for several moments. Then finally he said, “Evianna.”

She pulled away from him, looking into his face with concern. Of course going through what he’d gone through with Evianna would make him brave. She guessed that once you faced the sudden death of someone you loved there wasn’t much left to fear.

“I don’t run from love because of Evianna. On the contrary, once I found it again, with you, I ran toward it since I know how precious, rare, and short-lived it can be. It would be a sin to push it away instead of embracing it. I understand that, but Byron doesn’t.”

“I’m glad you didn’t run from me.”

He touched her face. “I’ve never seen Byron this way, Lilya. He loves you very much.”

“Where is he?”

“I don’t know. He couldn’t stand to be in his house without you there. We fought when I told him I was coming here to ask you to marry me and then he left.”

“I was afraid too. I should have told him how I felt, but I never imagined he might feel the same way.” She pressed her lips together. “I need to go find him, Alek.”

He shook his head. “I’ll go find him. He needs to come to you, not the other way around.”

“Do you have any idea where to look?”

He nodded. “I think I know exactly where he’s gone. Now, can we stop talking about Byron?” He still had the ring box in his hand. “Let’s talk about you and me instead.”

Smiling, wanting to savor this moment, she took his hand led him over to sit next to her on the couch. “I want this piece of jewelry, Alek. I want it with all my heart.” She took the box into her hands and opened it, admiring the way the light glinted on the shiny gems. “It’s the first ring I’ve ever been given that I desire to wear.”

He took the ring from the box and slipped it on her finger. It looked very good there. Then he touched the ring finger of her other hand. “Once we find Byron, you’ll have one to go here too.”

She stared at it. Could it be that her wish was coming true? She couldn’t even imagine.... “Maybe.”

He tipped her chin to force her eyes to his.
“Definitely.”

His mouth found hers and she wrapped her arms around him, pressing her lips up against his and closing her eyes. He pulled her onto his lap and kissed her harder, his mouth possessing hers.

She finally broke the kiss. “But don’t leave until tomorrow morning, all right? I want to spend some time with you.”

His lips curved into a smile. “Tonight you’re all mine,
just
mine.”

“Would it bother you to share me?”

“Sometimes. Our relationships won’t be jealousy-free, but I think we can make it work.”

She looked into her lap where her fingers were intertwined with his. “I think so too.”

He eased his hand to the nape of her neck and compelled her mouth to his. He kissed her until her knees felt weak. Gently, she pushed away from him. Standing, she went to the curtains and drew them against anyone on the street peering in, then lit the elusian crystal lamp on a nearby table.

“What are you doing, love?” Alek asked from his place on the couch.

Smiling wickedly, she stood on the rug before the couch and began to unbutton the bodice of her dress very slowly, revealing the top bulge of her breasts and the lacy bra that cupped them.

Alek moved from the couch, as if to come to her, and she held up a hand. “Sit and watch,” she ordered him. He slid back into his place.

She unbuttoned her gown to her waist, revealing her skimpy brassiere made of lace, silk, and pink ribbons. Catching his gaze, she slid her finger over the plump of one breast and then swirled it around her nipple. A shiver of pleasure went through her that made her catch her breath. Alek shifted on the couch, as if already becoming aroused by the game.

She continued with the buttons, releasing enough of them that her gown fell past her hips to become a pool of silk and satin at her feet. Today she wore black stockings, held up by a black silk garter belt and clipped with tiny black ribbons. Her panties were nearly nonexistent, a silk so thin he could clearly see the mound of her dark hair covering her sex.

Slowly, she ran her hand down her abdomen and under the elastic band of her panties to her cunt. She found her clit and worked it between her fingers, her head falling back on a moan as another ripple of pleasure went through her. Her panties were becoming damp.

“Lilya.” The word came out hoarse and needy, clearly an entreaty to let him off the couch.

She gave a slight head shake. Then she reached around and undid her bra, throwing it to the side. Alek groaned as she cupped her breasts in her hands and teased her nipples.

A full-length mirror near the doorway reflected her image and she studied herself for a moment. Her face was flushed with passion, her lips slightly parted, and her eyes shiny with arousal. She barely recognized herself from the tightly controlled courtesan she used to be. Before sex was always for someone else, never herself.

This,
this
was for her as much as it was for Alek. A shared experience wherein they gave each other pleasure. It was totally new for her and she could see how healthy it was by just looking in the mirror.

Giving Alek a playful smile, she turned and bent at the waist, spreading her legs so he could see her breasts hanging through the space. Then she hooked her fingers through the waistband of her panties and shimmied them very slowly down her legs. She slid them down as far as the garters would allow and treated Alek to a full view of her pouting sex.

Alek lunged from the couch, pulling her up and around to face him. He reached down and ripped her flimsy little silk panties off her. She gasped and opened her mouth to protest.

“I’ll buy you new ones,” he growled. “I’ll buy you a whole drawer full of them. Now, on the floor.”

She sank to the carpet while he undid his trousers. Soon he was covering her body with his, roughly pushing her thighs apart with his knee and sliding inside her. The reflection showed their coupling. Her spread pale thighs against his slightly darker, hairy legs.

With fascination, she watched the way his thigh and rear muscles flexed as he thrust inside her. He came down over her and kissed her long and hard, the width of his cock tunneling in and out her.

“You made me crazy,” he murmured against her lips.

She smiled. “That was the idea.”

He took her that way for a while, then turned her to all fours and came behind her, his hand teasing her clit while he thrust.

Finally she fell apart under the force of her climax, back arching and body convulsing. He came too, then pulled her down to the carpet with him to cuddle before the fire.

T
hey spent the rest of the day together and went out to dinner that evening. In the morning she saw him off as he left to go find Byron.

She pulled her shawl around her shoulders and waved as the carriage lurched off toward the steam transport station. Alek thought he might have gone to Middentown, where they had several good friends from their time at the university.

Turning to go back into her house, a building that was feeling more like home every day, she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. A tall man turned the corner. She glanced at him, smiling. She was in a fine mood this morning. He wore a dark, very expensive suit and a fancy hat. His face was narrow, handsome, his hair—

“Ivan.” She stilled in complete and perfect shock, one hand on the door of her home. A violent shudder ran through her as recognition of the man slammed into her.

“Hello, Lilya.”

His voice washed through her like a wave of arctic water, breaking her astonishment. She lunged up the last stair and past the threshold, turning and slamming the door shut. But it wouldn’t close. She looked down to see Ivan’s boot—he always wore heavy boots, good for kicking, never normal shoes—wedged between the door and the frame.

Through the colored glass of the window, she saw a huge man walk up beside Ivan. With massive hands, he pushed the door open. Knowing she had no hope of winning a physical contest with either of them, she whirled and ran down the hall, through the kitchen, and to the back door. She threw it open only to find another one of Ivan’s thugs on the other side.

“You really shouldn’t be so predictable, Lilya.”

She closed her eyes, shuddering at the sound of Ivan’s voice behind her. It was as if the last six-plus years had disappeared. Now here she was, confused and hurting—prey to Ivan all over again. Taking deep breaths, she fisted her hands until they hurt, trying to gain control.

She wasn’t that woman anymore.

She wasn’t vulnerable, or hurting.

She was strong enough to face this.

She was
.

And she had a life to fight for now. A good life, one filled with love, laughter, and happiness.

Opening her eyes, she spied the knife she and Alek had used to cut up a melon for dessert the night before. They’d never got around to washing it . . . or eating the melon for that matter. She dashed to the side, grabbed the knife, and held it between herself and Ivan and his thugs. She still had the knife tucked into her bodice too. Every morning since the break-in at Byron’s she’d made it a part of her wardrobe. That made two weapons she possessed.

“Get out of here, Ivan. Right now.” Her voice came out sounding ten times stronger than she felt.

“Look at Lilya with the knife.” Ivan seemed more fascinated than frightened. He took a step toward her. “You’ve changed.”

She waved the knife. “If you think I won’t use this,
think again
.”

Ivan motioned at one of the goons with a finger. “Let’s test that out, shall we?”

The thug moved without hesitation. Either he was really stupid, really under Ivan’s control, or confident that the woman wielding the knife wouldn’t actually use it.

If it was the latter, he was wrong.

Her heart pounding and adrenaline rushing through her ears like the ocean, she slammed the knife deep into the man’s upper chest as soon as he got near enough. He fell back against the counter, screaming in pain, and then collapsed to the floor, whimpering and staring in alarm at the protruding handle of the knife.