“There was no planning. It was impulsive. Foolish. I gambled with life, but it wasn’t mine that I lost.”
“You aren’t a gambling man, Makhail. I’ll bet the only time you ever set foot in a casino was to drag me out of it.”
He looked at her, at her sweet, caring smile. So much emotion. So much more than he could ever hope to give back. “Perhaps it wasn’t gambling. But I led with my heart, not my head. I’ll never do it again.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
EVA couldn’t sleep. After Mak’s revelations in the cable car today, her mind was too filled with thoughts of him. Of what he’d suffered. And not only that, all the things he’d endured, only to come out the other side a man so strong it seemed there was no force on earth that could break him.
She slid open the door that led out to the terrace just outside her room. She flipped a switch and fired up the large, freestanding heaters placed at intervals along the length of the terrace. They brought heat, cast shimmering waves of it that floated across her field of vision, distorting the stars, shining brightly in the deep blue of the sky.
She was used to hearing the crashing of the waves, used to thick, salt-laden air that clung to her throat when she breathed in. Here, it was pure silence, the air thin and cold, drying.
She folded her arms across her chest and looked out at the black expanse of trees.
“What are you doing?”
She turned and saw Mak, standing in the doorway. “I couldn’t sleep,” she said. It was honest, anyway. “So you decided to go outside at night. In this kind of cold?”
“The heaters make it bearable. What are you doing in my room?” She secretly hoped he’d come for her. That he would cross the terrace in an easy stride and pull her into his arms. That he would bring her in from the cold and blanket her in his heat.
“I heard noise, so I thought I should check. I am here to protect you, after all.”
“Valiant of you.” The still night air swallowed her words, made them seem muted.
“Don’t assign adjectives to me that I don’t deserve,” he said, his voice rough. “You imagine me to be some sort of white knight, but I assure you, I’m as far from that as they come.”
“So you say,” she said. “And yet … and yet you cared for Marina. And you won’t touch me. You want to, I know you do. But you won’t.” Her words hung between them, made her feel naked.
He took a step toward her and the moon illuminated his face, revealed the feral glow in his eyes. “But, Eva, I have touched you. Or have you forgotten so easily?”
“I haven’t forgotten.”
“And in my dreams … in my mind … I have done so much more. Tell me, where is the honor in that?”
“Thoughts and actions aren’t the same,” she said, her voice trembling, and it had nothing to do with the cold. He was admitting to the thing she’d hoped was true. Admitting to wanting her. As she wanted him.
“Actions begin in our thoughts, Eva.”
“So not even your mind belongs to you? Even that you’ve given over to honor?”
He began to advance on her, his movements sleek and smooth. The movements of a predator. He came near to her, then stopped, turning and pacing in front of her. The tiger in a cage.
Her throat dried.
“I have tried,” he said. “But I have not succeeded.” Eva wanted to move to him. To touch him. To close the distance between them, a distance that wasn’t just physical. She wanted to wrap her arms around him, to hold him, wanted to so badly her entire being ached with it. She took a step to him.
“Don’t,” he ground out. “Not unless you want to find out just what sort of thing a man desires.”
She paused, her expression unreadable in the dim light.
Mak knew he should stop talking. That he should never have come out here in the first place. Eva was in no danger and he had never truly believed that she was. But when he’d heard her door open he’d been compelled to go to her. To see her. To take another chance. To test his honor.
He knew deep down he was hoping it would fail. Hoping his control would come to nothing.
“I have thought of you,” he said, speaking what he knew he should not. In the hopes of seeing desire in her eyes. In the hopes of knowing she wanted him as he wanted her. “Of touching you. Tasting you. I have thought of you in ways I have thought of no other woman. I was a boy when I married, and I knew lust, knew what it was to want in a very basic way. I did not know what it was to need more than simple satisfaction. To want the taste of a woman on my lips. To want to feel her desire coating my fingers. Do you know how much I want that?” The words came from deep in him, from a place he had denied all of his life. Finally, free rein given to the needs he had so long suppressed.
Eva did not back away. She did not flinch. She simply looked at him, her eyes fixed on his, her lips parted. She did not look frightened. She looked eager. Damn her.
“I would take you,” he said. “I would make you mine.”
Her breasts rose and fell on a sharp breath. “Take me, then.”
Her words stabbed him, a pang of lust assaulting him, breaking at the bonds of his control, stretching them to their limit.
“I cannot,” he said. And he was the one to retreat. To step back.
“Why? Will you be a servant all of your life? Held down by your desire to do what you think is right? What has it ever given back to you, Mak?”
“We are all slaves,” he said. “Whether it’s to our desires or to a code of honor, we all serve a master, Eva. And a man cannot serve two. I can’t serve myself and do what is right.”
“Is it so wrong to want me?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said, the word bitter to speak. “I have promised to protect you. I gave my word.”
“You would show greater loyalty to my father than to me? You won’t give any consideration to what I want?”
He shook his head. “I cannot, Eva.”
She took a step to him, put her hand on his chest. He caught her wrist and pulled it away, holding her. “Don’t,” he bit out. “Do not tempt me. No more.”
She pulled her hand away. “Good night, Mak.”
Regret, as bitter as grief, rolled over him like a wave. “Good night, Eva.”
He turned and walked away, out of her room, closing the door behind him. He would go down to the weight room and he would exhaust himself. It was the only option he could live with.
He started to walk down the hall and then paused, closing his eyes against the sudden wave of rage that assaulted him, his hands tightening into fists. God help him but he didn’t have the strength to fight anymore.
More than that, he wasn’t sure he had the desire to fight any longer.
With any other woman, any other desire, it might have been possible. He had proven it was possible. But Eva was unlike anyone he had ever met, and what she made him feel far surpassed his previous understanding of sexual need.
He warred with himself, a cold sweat beading on his skin. He released a growl and stalked down the hall, heading to the weight room.
He would not break tonight. But tomorrow held no guarantees.
Eva didn’t know what she’d expected. She was twenty-one, she wasn’t a completely new person. But she’d sort of thought maybe a birthday would bring insight. Far from it, she felt more confused than ever.
Eva rolled over in her big, empty bed and slid out from beneath the covers, padding over to the closet and rummaging around for clothes. She decided on a pair of skinny jeans and a sweater. It wasn’t very birthdayish. Normally, there would be a big party with a bunch of people she didn’t really know or care about and she would wear a gown.
She snorted as she tugged the sweater over her head. This would probably be an improvement. Another day with Mak.
Or maybe not.
She wasn’t entirely certain the moments of unguarded honesty that had taken place between them had been such a great idea, but they had happened. But, something had shifted between them. Something even more profound than the change that had occurred after the kiss.
All that sharing and hand-holding he was so opposed to. And those dark admissions on the terrace. She tried to breathe, but her stomach felt too tight. She shook her head and headed out of her room and down the stairs.
Mak was standing at the base of the staircase. “I was ready to come and check on you,” he said. His tone was so much easier than it had been the night before. The darkness in him held back. For now. It was clear he was going with the ‘ignore’ tactic. Something she found herself comfortable with.
“I am not escaping into the snow, Makhail,” she said, using his full name. “I would freeze.”
“I know, but it’s late enough that I was starting to wonder. And I wasn’t looking forward to dragging you back in this kind of cold.”
“Even still, I have no doubt that you would.”
His lips curved upward. “It seems we understand each other. And after last night, I would not blame you.”
So he wouldn’t pretend it hadn’t happened. She didn’t know whether she felt satisfied by that or not. “I’m undamaged by last night.”
“I said things I shouldn’t have.”
She lowered her eyes, looked at his throat. So much easier than meeting his gaze. “We all do that sometimes.” She certainly had. She’d all but begged him to sleep with her. The really sad part was, she didn’t feel very remorseful about it. She only regretted not getting her way. “What time is it?” She was opting for a subject change. For now.