If only I had been around. Maybe I could have stopped what happened that night. Kept Lilia and Anika safe, kept the Pakhan whole. But the past is the past, and I don’t fix things.
I break them.
The chandeliers flicker three times. We both tense, eyeing each other with suspicion.
A spotlight hits the stage at the far end of the ballroom while the rest of the illumination remains low. A smiling man in a dark tuxedo steps into the circle wielding a microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the live auction portion of our evening.”
The auction. Right.
Conversations taper off, and bodies reorient toward the stage. Most people meander to the rows of chairs arranged in front of the platform, settling in to watch the show. Some remain standing in small clusters with glasses in hand, their focus split between the auctioneer and the free food and drinks.
The room’s edges fall into shadow. Taking advantage of the low visibility, I stride away from Nika. I know she won’t leave, because she wants the necklace. Right now, I’m the center of her gravity.
I intend to use that.
While most people cluster around the stage, I head for the less-crowded bar and request two fresh glasses of champagne.
With drinks in hand, I pivot and scan the space.
Anika hovers near a pillar, partially obscured by shadow, her attention on the stage. Her white hair glows almost silver, contrasting with her pale skin and black dress.
The auctioneer’s rapid-fire delivery provides cover as I draw near. “Here’s a magnificent piece, ladies and gentlemen. Oil on canvas, authenticated provenance. Starting the bid at fifteen thousand. Do I hear fifteen? Fifteen from the gentleman in the back. Thank you, sir. Now twenty. Who’ll give me twenty?”
I slide in directly behind her.
She doesn’t turn, but I catch the subtle stiffening of her spine. She knows I’m here.
I lift one of the champagne flutes over her shoulder, into her peripheral vision.
She shakes her head.
I bend down so that my chest nearly grazes her back and my breath ruffles the fine hairs at the nape of her neck. “Come on, Nika. You know you want a taste. Open up. I promise you’ll like it.”
The double meaning hangs in the air between us. Heavy. Undeniable.
She tenses and sways closer to me. A shiver rolls through her, starting at her shoulders and rippling down her spine. Her back skims against me, a gentle Morse code exposing her body’s betrayal.
My blood heats at the minute contact.
I set one drink on a cocktail table and press my chest against her back, holding the other flute just above the swell of her breasts. Even with her heels, I’m taller, so I have to tip my head down a little. The angle puts my mouth near her ear.
“You only have one thing I want, you asshole,” she grits out.
The auctioneer’s voice rises, building to a crescendo. “Twenty-five…do I hear twenty-five? Twenty-five from the lady in red. Excellent. Now thirty. Thirty, anyone? Thirty for this magnificent…”
“Tsk,tsk, Nika. After all we’ve been through, we’re not going to start lying to each other now, are we?” A low laugh rumbles through my chest, causing her to shiver. “Unless you forgot about that necklace you’ve been killing for.”
She tilts her head just enough to peer at me from over her shoulder. Our faces loom mere inches apart, and I register the pink blush dusting her cheeks.
She swallows. “I’m telling the truth.”
Lifting my hand, I drag my thumb along her bottom lip. “Oh, but you are.”
She exhales a heavy breath.
I rock my hips, brushing my stiffening length against her ass. “But the body never lies.” Dropping my arm from her shoulder,I lightly stroke her breast, grazing her hard nipple with my forearm. “Neither does this.”
A ragged gasp bursts from her lips. Under my touch, her muscles coil, every instinct no doubt screaming at her to move, fight, or distance herself.
