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With the need to know more about him and to have something to remember him by, other than the rugged man, she asked, “What’s your name?” knowing that she probably wouldn’t see him again, especially if her father really meant to do what she’d overheard.
He searched her eyes and reaching out, traced along her trembling lips with a finger. “So soft,” he whispered and licking his lips, he added, “Mikhail Vasiliev.” His eyes briefly held sorrow before his expression went blank and he dropped his hands, stepping away.
Vasiliev…
She shook her head, trying to clear it. She’d heard that name before and not too long ago.
Konstantine Vasiliev!
“Oh God!” She hissed in shock. “Please tell me that you’re not related to that monster in there?” Her arms wrapped around her stomach as though that would protect her from this man and his . . . his . . . “Father?” Tears came to her eyes and slowly slid down her reddening cheeks. “That’s who that man is, right? He’s your father!”
Her heart pounded and her breath caught at the back of her throat. Before she could think to run, Mikhail had his strong arms wrapped around her. He took the few steps to the garden bench and shoved her down into the seat with her head pushed between her kne
es.
“Breathe India,” his rushed words were spoken with a strong Russian accent, and she felt so stupid that she hadn’t realized before now. “No matter what happens just remember that I am not my father. I’m nothing like him. I never have been. I never will be.”
What does he mean?
She pushed against his hand and he loosened the pressure, but his hand lingered as he caressed down from her neck to her lower back before he reluctantly pulled away.
Her eyes stayed on his face expecting him to say or do something more. He did nothing though. Pain crossed his face before he looked away and rested his arms on his knees. He leant forward with his head dipped and minutes later he gave her a longing and sorrowful look. “When you leave here you will have seven days before my father expects something from you.” He hid his gaze once more.
She rested her feet up on the bench and wrapped her arms around her legs, resting her cheek on the top of her drawn up knees. Her gaze focused on the back of Mikhail’s head. He had a head of thick dark hair and even knowing whom his father was, it didn’t stop her from wanting to slide her fingers through the shiny strands. He rubbed at his temples and she had the urge to massage his headache away and then move down to his shoulders to take the tension away.
“I don’t know why I’m still sitting here with you,” she mumbled, ending on a long sigh. “I should have ran back inside and locked myself in my room. Why didn’t I do that?” Her fingers twitched to touch the flowing lock of hair that fell on his brow as he finally turned to face her.
He smiled softly when he realized what her intention was, he intercepted her hand and laced his fingers with hers. Her heart pounded at his touch and her attraction to him was just as strong, if not stronger, than it was before she knew his name.
“You’re still sitting here with me,” he paused and caressed her hand with his thumb, “because you trust me not to hurt you . . . and because of this . . .” He raised her hand to his mouth and placed a kiss into the palm before he closed her fingers into a fist around the sweet kiss and placed her hand back on her lap. “You’re as attracted to me as I am you . . . there’s something about you, about us . . .” he trailed off.
Her heart filled with excitement.
“I do feel it too. I don’t want to go with your father.” She dipped her gaze. “But, I feel like I’d go anywhere with you.”
His face was alight with hope until darkness seeped into his gaze. “I don’t know what’s going to happen because my father hasn’t been like this before . . . about anyone.” He tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “We can’t let anyone know that there is an attraction between us. I can’t let my father know. It won’t be safe for you or me.” He closed his eyes tight before dropping his forehead to hers. “I can’t or they’ll know that you’re my weakness.”
With her mind working overtime, she slowly pulled back from Mikhail and searched his hooded gaze.
Mikhail held her gaze and she couldn’t look away even if she wanted to as the darkness of his gaze held hers captive.
He reached out and his fingertips felt warm against her cold cheek. “You really are so innocent,” he whispered before he quickly snatched his hand away. “Just remember what I said.” He squeezed her hand and quickly stood, moving a few feet away . . . and that’s when she realized her father and that man, Mikhail’s father, were approaching from behind.
Chapter 4
Mikhail watched as fear entered her gaze before she pulled herself together and hardened her features against her father as they drew nearer. She had every right to be angry, but her father had no idea that she was aware of his agreement with Mikhail’s father.
Watching them approach from the corner of his eyes, he paced back and forth, and moved closer to India, and hissed, “Your father can’t know that you listened at his door,” between his teeth.
Her startled blue eyes briefly met his before she looked away, swallowing back her anguish. Tears glistened on her lashes and when one slowly fell down the smooth skin of her pale cheek, he wanted nothing more than to kiss it away. Instead he stepped back and continued his pacing, stopping only when his father stood directly in front of him, a dark frown on his face.
“Hmm,” his father murmured as though he knew something. “It’s like that is it?” He tipped his head to the side, anger narrowed his eyes, and his mouth tightened into a thin line.
To others, his father’s stare could be deadly, but Mikhail had become immune, his father liked to exercise his power because he knew that he had everyone exactly where he wanted them; at his beck and call.
Everything in him tightened with the need to knock his father down. His father knew it as well. While his father tried to see inside of him, Mikhail wondered what his father had seen of his interaction with India, while he’d been approaching the rose garden. He could only see the second floor of the house so he was sure that he’d had privacy with India.
“We’ll see,” his father said from the corner of his mouth as he stepped around him.
