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I pull him in for a tight hug, ruffling his hair. “Goodnight, Ilya.”
He hops down the steps after Nikita, but Cyrille stops in the doorway. “Are you okay?” I ask her as she lingers, twisting uncomfortably in place.
She nods. “Yeah, I’m fine. It was just… surprisingly emotional for me to sit at that table today. Not so long ago, Maksim and I were in your places.”
I knew something was bothering her tonight, but I didn’t even think of that.
“Oh, Cyrille. I’m so—”
“Don’t apologize,” she says quickly. “I didn’t tell you that to make you feel guilty. You have nothing to feel guilty about. It’s just…”
“You miss him,” I fill in softly. “I know. For what it’s worth, I think Misha was feeling a lot of the same things you were feeling tonight.”
“I noticed that, too.” She looks back into the house, her gaze straying to the same place my heart is tugging me. “What are you going to do?”
I take a deep breath. “I’m going to go after him.”
15
PAIGE
Misha may be a big man, but he’s surprisingly stealthy when he wants to be. I wander the dark paths of the back lawn and gardens for fifteen minutes before I find him sitting behind the greenhouse.
He’s in a rock garden that edges a burbling stream. It winds around the greenhouse and through the flower beds before it pools out into the fishpond.
I move as silently as I can, creeping up from behind him. I don’t want to scare him, but I’m not ready for the dismissal I know is coming.
“You should be in bed.”
Dammit.So much for my ninja aspirations.
I sigh and relax as I approach him. “I’m not tired.”
He turns to look at me sidelong. “You seemed tired at dinner.”
“Is that a chivalrous way of saying I look like shit?” I stop in front of him. “Need I remind you I’m five months’ pregnant with twins?”
His mouth twitches, but it’s a far cry away from being a smile. “You look beautiful. You always do. I meant it in the most literal sense.”
I’m not sure what to say to that. I wasn’t fishing for a compliment. Even if I was, I wouldn’t have expected him to offer one.
“Dinner was tense,” I say, changing the topic.
He grimaces and leans forward, elbows on his knees. “You can thank my mother for that.”
“Don’t blame Nessa. She just wants her family back.”
“Her family is not coming back. Not the way she knew it, anyway.”
“Maybe if you stopped fighting it so hard—”
Misha turns his silver eyes on me, and I lose my train of thought. Even with half his face covered in shadow, those eyes shine as brightly as the stars hanging above us.
“I’m fighting against Petyr Ivanov,” Misha says coldly. “He’s the only person I’m at war with.”
Ya coulda fooled me,I want to say.
But I saw the way he reacted when his mom pushed. It’s the reason we’re having this conversation in the backyard instead of at the table.
