Her Rogue Russian(16)

 

"It's not so bad," Savannah murmured finally. "It'll be a reminder, at least. Of how seriously I take my work."

 

Somehow, Maxim didn't think the appended remark was what she had intended to say. "Yeah? What's so forgettable about this job that you need reminding?" he asked, trying to keep his voice light, but his face as he watched her felt too tense.

 

"Maybe next time I won't allow myself to get in this deep," Savannah replied.

 

His knuckles were still poised at her neck. It would be so easy to lean in, to capture those lips under the cover of darkness and prove to the woman she was still treading in the shallows. She thought she was in deep now? He could carry her down further and show her just how pleasurable a fall could be … 

 

A pair of headlights cut a blinding swath in the darkness. Maxim blinked and turned, and Savannah lifted a hand to shield her eyes from the onslaught. "Looks like my cab's here," she mentioned as she started down the drive. He wanted to put a hand out to stop her, to reel her back. He wanted to tell her to forget riding with anyone else. He wanted to pick up his thought process where he had last left off and make it a reality.

 

Instead he stated the obvious. "You could ride with me. You know it would look better if we left together."

 

His invitation gave Savannah pause, and she turned back to him with an arched eyebrow. "Really?" She didn't sound as if she quite believed him. She fastened a hand on one cocked hip as she considered him. "You're always offering me rides home now, Karev, where before you couldn't spare so much as a single ounce of gas on me. What gives?"

 

"Maybe you're not the only one getting in too deep," Maxim replied as he slipped his hands into his pockets.

 

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" she challenged, a small smile tugging at the edge of her lips.

 

"I know a way you could easily find out."

 

Savannah chuckled. "Good night, lover. Get some rest. We'll reconvene later this week."

 

She flipped him a wave, and Maxim watched her stride off into the night. Reconvene had to be the least sexy word he had ever heard in his life, and he was positive she had intended it that way.

 

Still, the platonic terms she insisted on using to shape their relationship had less of an effect on him than she might have hoped. As Maxim mounted his bike, he entertained the idea of mounting something else-that is, someone else-in his imagination. He had a mind to mix his business with pleasure, and he was starting to think Savannah might not be as impervious to his charms as she hoped. A little tumble between the sheets might help clear up a few things between them, and help them move forward without all this unresolved sexual tension getting in the way.

 

 

 

        

          

        

         

 

After all, Maxim mused as the night wind rushed by him-the woman was only responsible for investigating the murder of his father.

 

What could possibly go wrong?

 

 

 

 

 

4

 

 

 

 

 

Savannah

 

 

 

 

 

"How are you healing up?" Rebecca asked her.

 

It had already been a week since she got her new ink, and Savannah figured it was now or never. She reached behind her head and began to slowly peel the bandage away from her tattoo. Rebecca leaned across the reception desk to get a better look. "Ohhh," Rebecca breathed reverently as Savannah stripped the last of the tape from her tender skin, "that's really beautiful, I like it. Clean, simple. Adrian does great work, doesn't he?"

 

"You tell me," Savannah said with some amusement. "I'm not going to be able to see this thing for myself. I'll have to trust in the opinions of others."

 

"I'll do you one better," Rebecca offered. She slipped her phone out of her pocket and snapped a photo as Savannah modeled the back of her neck. The two women then crowded around the screen to get a good look.

 

Savannah had to admit that the black-and-white sword looked pretty badass. Few people would know about its existence at first glance, and she was certain even fewer would find occasion to remark on it. It suited her, certainly better than the butterfly tramp stamp she had kept a secret for the last several years. She wondered how that particular trip to Daytona Beach might have turned out differently, had Maxim been there with her in the parlor to advise her then … 

 

"What does Max think about it?" Rebecca asked.

 

Savannah shook her head, trying to dispel thoughts of spring breaks long past. "He chose it for me, actually."