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Allie could never know. It would break her. And if she found out the terrible facts of what’d really happened on the night of the fire, she’d never allow me to touch her again.
I had to keep an eye on her now that I knew the Ivanovs were interested in her. She’d claimed that they knew nothing about her reckless investigation into the case against my family, but I didn’t believe her.
Watching her from a distance but not allowing myself close enough to touch her was going to be pure torture, but I would protect her, no matter what it cost me.
And she would never learn what I’d found out tonight.
Chapter 15
Allie
I’m as crazy as Max. I had to be, because I’d kissed my stalker. I’d kissed the man who was intent on blackmailing my dad.
I’d barely slept last night, unable to get comfortable. That strange heat persisted low in my belly, but my skin had been icy. Ever since Max had abruptly pushed me away, I’d been on the verge of tears whenever I thought about him.
And I couldn’t stop thinking about him. About our kiss. The best kiss of my life.
Not that there had been many, but nothing that’d happened with other boys even began to compare the madness that’d overtaken me when Max’s lips touched mine.
But he’d shoved me away and barked at me to go inside. Then he’d disappeared into the night so quickly that I questioned my sanity. Had he been there at all? It seemed surreal now: Max waiting at my door with a bottle of wine; our argument over Niko while I huddled in his jacket; my intense, mindless reaction to his kiss.
I rubbed at the persistent ache in the center of my chest and leaned back on the padded seat of the cab with a sigh. Today had been miserable. This morning, I’d barely gotten through Saturday brunch with my dad without bursting into tears. He’d been able to tell something was wrong with me, and I’d had to lie. I’d babbled about work stress or something. I couldn’t quite remember. The entire day had been a blur, and I couldn’t wait to get home.
My heart leapt for a moment. What if Max was waiting for me on my front porch?
I wanted to talk to him so badly. And I never wanted to see him again. My emotions were a tangled mess when it came to Max Ferrara.
For the dozenth time today, I yanked my fingers away from my lips. I kept tracing them, struggling to ease the phantom tingle that his kiss seemed to have branded into my flesh.
It was absolutely insane to think that I’d kissed the man who’d kidnapped me and tied me to a chair in his basement. No matter if he’d saved my life when that car had been rushing right at me. No matter if he’d tried to protect me from Niko because of his misguided belief that the Russian was somehow dangerous. No matter if the pain in his eyes when he said he was a monster made my heart tug toward him.
I rubbed my chest again, pressing my palm tight against my sternum to alleviate the ache.
I felt raw, my nerves ragged and painfully exposed. Tonight, I’d barely been able to withstand Gavin’s snide remarks at our networking event. It’d taken all my willpower to drag myself to the meeting of the Legal Networking Group, and my bully had made it every bit as miserable as I’d feared. Every time I’d turned around, he’d seemed to be lurking close by, waiting to get in a snide insult or passive aggressive remark. By then end of the night, he’d been visibly inebriated, and he’d become even more persistent in his efforts to rattle me, that nasty smile tainting his otherwise handsome features.
I was rattled enough without Gavin’s torment. I had much bigger issues than my childhood bully to cope with.
Some of the tension eased from my muscles when the cab turned onto my street. Almost home. I could hardly wait to cuddle up beneath my fuzzy pink blanket with a book and a glass of pinot.
The memory of the wine Max had brought me flashed through my mind, drawing a shiver to the surface of my skin. He’d known what kind I liked because he’d broken into my home and rifled through my belongings. That violation still shook me to my core, even if I’d come to understand him better since then.
When I’d stepped outside this morning, the bottle hadn’t been where I’d abandoned it on the front step. I wasn’t sure if Max had taken it with him or if someone else had cleaned it up. Last night, I’d been too desperate to scramble away from his dark mood to even think about the wine.
