Black Knight, White Queen (17 page)

A surge of adrenaline went through him as a feeling coiled in his gut. Raw and desperate and violent. An intensely physical feeling. “I’m not wrong.”

“Yes, you are. You’ve just never had anyone who can prove it to you.” Her eyes glittered. “But I can.”

Chapter Eleven

She could see the desire in his eyes, a hot, burning thing. Desire for her. Desire for understanding. And perhaps he didn’t recognise it but she knew it was also a desire for what she could give him. A desire for love.

“Prove it to me?” he asked blankly. “How?”

Izzy reached for his hand. “Not here. Down in your suite.”

He stared at her for a long moment then down at where their hands were joined. “Sex?”

She could hear the surprise in his voice. The doubt. But that’s because sex for him, she suspected, had never been an emotional experience. Only physical.

“No, not sex.” She leaned forward to murmur it quietly. “Making love.” Because that’s how she would show him. How she would prove to him just how much he was capable of. Sex had always been where their guards had been lowered with each other.

“It’s the same thing—”

“It’s not, Aleks. And I think you know that too.”

His fingers tightened around hers but all he said was, “Okay, fine. Prove it to me then.”

He didn’t understand, she knew that. Not yet at least. But he would. She would make him.

Downstairs in the suite, she dumped her massive backpack on the floor and when she turned, she found him right behind her, reaching for her, pulling her into his arms. Already he had one hand fisted in her hair, gripping her tightly as he tugged her head back. She could feel his desperation, knew it stemmed not just from physical desire but from an emotional one too. Knew that whether he was aware of it or not, he wanted this connection between them. That he needed it. The look on his face as she’d turned around up on the rooftop had been enough to show her that.

I looked everywhere for you. All the hostels in the city…

“Aleks,” she said softly, placing her palms on his chest and exerting a little pressure, keeping him at bay. He was so very hot, the muscles beneath her hands flexing in response. She wanted so much to just give him whatever he wanted, but this was too important. Desperation was fine but afterwards he retreated. Closed himself up. And she couldn’t let that happen, not today.

He ignored her, bending his head and covering her mouth with his in a hot, hungry kiss.

She let him take what he wanted and then, when he began to kiss her jaw, her neck, she exerted more pressure, pushing at him until he lifted his head, his gaze on hers.

“What?” he asked. “I thought you wanted this.”

“I do. But we’re going to do this my way.” She lifted her hands and took his face between them. “Do you trust me?”

The fierce look in his eyes took her breath away. “I…want to trust you.”

Izzy swallowed past a dry mouth. God, she hoped that would be enough. It would have to be. “I have to be in charge this time, Aleks, okay?”

“You were in charge last night.”

“Yes, but today is different.” She stroked her thumbs along his jaw. “This time it’s not just about scratching an itch or feeding a hunger. This is about me loving you.”

The expression in his eyes flickered, and she could see the retreat again. An almost physical thing. Her hands tightened on him, holding his head so he couldn’t turn away. “I know. You think you’re broken. That you can’t love. That you can’t be loved.”

“No, that’s not—”

“Yes, it is. You think I can’t see your fear? You don’t want it to be true, but you’re afraid to hope.”

“You’re not thinking clearly, Izzy. You’re letting good sex blind you.”

“I’m not.” She let her thumbs move up from his jaw, along the exquisite line of his cheekbones. “In fact, I think I’m seeing clearly for the first time in months. Because of you. You’re not broken, Aleks. You’ve just never been taught what love is.”

His eyes darkened, his body going taut. That hand in her hair tightened still further. “I don’t need to know.” Then he kissed her again, his mouth hard and demanding.

Izzy let him kiss her, kept stroking his face, soothing him, trying to drain all the pent up emotion he refused to acknowledge with her touch.

Eventually he lifted his head, his breathing fast and ragged. “Don’t…don’t do that. Don’t touch me like that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I…” He stopped, his whole body tensing. “I don’t like it.”

She could see fear in the depths of his eyes now, knew that her tenderness was pushing him. But she wanted him to shatter and let her in, not harden further.

Gently she lowered her hands. “How about we go to bed now?” Sex had always deepened their connection, and she suspected that would be the key for him. Because sex was the only connection he’d allow himself.

Aleks didn’t answer, merely took her hand and drew her into the bedroom.

There she let him take her clothes off, her heart aching in her chest as his fingers shook on the little buttons that did up the silk trousers she wore.

“It’s okay,” she said softly as he swore, covering his hand with her own. “It’s not a race, Aleks. I’m not going anywhere.”

At that he went utterly still, and she knew as soon as she’d said that she’d touched something raw and painful for him. Was he afraid she would leave again? Is that what this desperation was about?

Her heart broke a little in recognition. She’d left him. Just like all the other people in his life had left him. Just as she had been left.

“Aleks,” she said, “I’m not going to leave. I’m staying until you tell me to go. Understand?”

He stood so close, his hands on her hips, his head bent. And she thought he might deny it, ask what she was talking about, but he didn’t. All he did was nod and continue with what he was doing. But this time his hands were slower as if his desperation had eased.

Izzy began to help, setting the pace for him so that sliding her clothes off became not so much a desperate necessity but part of the foreplay. She shivered as his fingers brushed her bare skin, easing down her underwear so she could step naked out of the confining fabric.

But this wasn’t about her now. This was about him.

As he straightened, standing over her, she looked up into his taut, fierce face. Had anyone ever taken their time over him? Had a woman ever touched him because she loved him and not because she wanted him inside her? Had he ever been held?

But she knew the answer to that.

“I want to undress you, Aleks,” she said softly.

His hands were already at the hem of his T-shirt in preparation for taking it off over his head. “I can’t wait, Izzy. Later.”

She stepped forward and grabbed his wrists. Looked into his eyes. “No. Now.”

For half a second he looked like he was going to argue. So she began to do it anyway, undoing the laces on the sneakers he wore, taking them off one by one. Pushing his T-shirt up, rising on tiptoes to pull it off over his head, letting her hands slide over his chest and down to the buttons on his jeans. She heard his breath catch. His fingers gripped her wrists as if to stop her, but she shook him off and eventually his hands dropped to his sides. He was still tense, yet that simple gesture made the tears start in her eyes.

Yes, he did trust her. Yes, he did want this. Somewhere behind his denials, he wanted this.

Izzy undid the button on his fly then drew down the zipper, taking her time.

“Hurry,” he ordered in a thick, rough voice.

“No.” She looked up at him. “I’m not doing fast. I’m not doing desperate. Not this time. I’m going to go slow and take my time, and you want to know why, Aleks? Because you’re worth it, okay? You’re worth taking the time over.”

Something flared in his eyes. A hot, bright spark. “I—”

“Don’t speak. Just accept it.” She slid her hands under the waistband of his jeans then began to ease them down.

Aleks said nothing, but she could hear his breathing. The harsh rush of it as she drew his boxers down along with his jeans. The catch as she knelt at his feet, handling him the way he’d handled her the night before, lifting each foot out of the tangle of fabric.

When he was naked, she rose. “Lie on the bed.”

This wasn’t him handing her the control like last night. This was her taking it from him.

Because now she knew exactly what she was going to do. She knew exactly how to show him just how very worth it he was.

“What are you going to do, Izzy?” His voice sounded even rougher.

“I’m going to tie you up, Aleks.”

He’d never done that before, given someone full control. And every defensive mechanism he had screamed a warning. Bad idea. Especially when the person in charge was Izzy. Because if anyone could get under his guard, it was her.

Hasn’t she got under your guard already?

Aleks tried not to think about that. Tried to tell himself it was okay. Because he knew if he refused her, she would leave. He knew it like he knew the sky was blue.

“Don’t be afraid,” Izzy said into the quiet of the room. She didn’t add that she wouldn’t hurt him, because it wasn’t pain he was afraid of. As she well knew.

His heart raced. She stood naked in front of him, and he wanted her so badly he could barely think. Like he had a constant scream in his head and touching her was the only thing that could quiet it.

But the thought of giving her control made his muscles tight. Made the fight or flight reflex kick in with a vengeance. Those slender fingers of hers would open him up, take him apart. And then he’d be…vulnerable.

His return to Moscow had created a political shitstorm about the adoption of Russian kids by foreigners, especially Americans. The media had pounced on him for interviews, asking him all sorts of questions including whether he’d cried when he left. “Yes,” he’d said. He’d only been seven. “Men don’t cry,” the journalist had told him. So he hadn’t. Not ever again.

“Trust me, Aleks,” Izzy said.

Trust her. Did he? Her eyes held his, the look on her face so determined and yet full of fearful hope. She wanted him to trust her.

He could do this, couldn’t he? It didn’t need to be such a big deal.

“Okay.” His voice didn’t sound like his own. “I trust you.”

The lines around her mouth eased, and she smiled in the way he was becoming addicted to. “Then do as you’re told and go lie on the bed, Mr. Grandmaster.”

It took a minute or two for her to find the scarves he’d used on her before. And then another couple for her to tie them securely around his wrists. He had to tell her how to tie them, but she did a good job, making sure they were tight. He didn’t leave himself an escape clause. The material of the scarves was so thin he could rip them without too much effort.

At least that’s what he told himself.

Izzy left the room for a few moments and then came back with the long blue piece of silk she’d been wearing as a sarong. The blindfold.

Fear curled low in his gut at the sight of it, but he forced it away. Told himself it was irrational. And yet when she gently put the fabric over his eyes, he wanted to pull it away, wanted to rip away the scarves that tied his wrists together over his head and get out.

Suffocation slid long fingers around his throat, gripping on tight. Cutting off his air.

He didn’t want to be vulnerable. To be at someone else’s mercy. Not again.

Then just when he thought he couldn’t bear it, he felt her touch. A light finger trailing along his chest, stroking gently.

“You’re beautiful, Aleks,” she murmured. “Did you know that?”

Her palms were on his chest now and the warmth of her touch began to settle down through him, easing his tight muscles, the sense of suffocation that had been gripping him.

“But you’re not only beautiful.” A hand settled above his heart. “You’re passionate too. Oh, you hide it so very well, but I can see it when you look at me.” Her palm moved, stroking him. “Do you know how that makes me feel? God, I can’t even begin to describe it, but it’s pretty much the best thing in the world. You make me feel beautiful and sexy. And special. I think that’s what I like most, that feeling special.” Her mouth brushed the spot where her hand had rested, a soft kiss. “And you’re protective too. I liked when we were on Patpong Road and you put yourself between me and those aggressive touts. That made me feel special too.”

Aleks closed his eyes behind his blindfold, his chest tight, a pain gathering behind his breastbone. “Izzy…no. You’re just seeing what you want to see.”

“I’m not, Aleks. I’m not stupid, you know.” A hand slid down his leg, her palm against his skin, and back up again. Stroking him. “I’m talking about the man you are behind all your defenses and don’t try to tell me that man isn’t there. A man who didn’t care, who couldn’t love, wouldn’t have bought me a bracelet. Or run me a bath. With freaking bubbles.”

Another touch, on the other side of him now, her mouth pressing on his shoulder, fingers trailing up his arm, stroking his biceps. “That man wouldn’t be grieving the death of a friend, Aleks.”