His Ward (11 page)

That final thought damn near undid him, and without rhyme or reason, he moved his hand from the desk to his lap, where he planned to make the slow trip upward to his button and zipper so he could relieve the intense pressure that was threatening to cut off the blood to one of his favorite body parts. Just when he reached the button, the door opened and his cousin walked in.

“I need my tablet back,” Nicholi said as he came into the makeshift office of their hotel. “So wrap up the conversation.”

Misha jerked his hand back into place so fast he almost pulled it out of socket. He tried his best to look as if nothing was out of the ordinary while willing his wayward cock to go down. “You really must learn to knock.”

“I’ll get right on that, after you give me back my iPad. So say good night already.”

“I did that a while ago. The conversation that you pawned off on me with no warning has been over for an hour, if not more.”

Frowning, Nicholi came around the desk and stood behind Misha. He glanced down at the scene of a sleeping Tionne, then back at Misha. His cousin’s odd expression made Misha feel even more perverted than he’d felt before, if that was even possible. “What?”

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” Misha said as he scooted his chair forward a bit more. The last thing he needed was for his cousin to catch a glimpse of the tent in his slacks.

“It doesn’t seem like nothing.”

“What does it seem like?”

“As if you’re watching her sleep.”

Misha looked up at his cousin with a blank expression, neither confirming nor denying the obviousness of the other man’s statement. Nicholi had eyes after all.

“Okay…” Nicholi took a hesitant step back. “That’s not creepy at all.”

Misha faced forward again and pulled the tablet screen down so Nicholi could no longer see Tionne. “I don’t recall asking your opinion.”

“Since when have I ever waited to be asked?”

Misha couldn’t argue with that. “So very true.”

“Everything kosher now between you two?”

“For now.” But only God knew how long that would last.

“You’re welcome, then,” Nicholi said as he rounded the makeshift desk so he was standing in front of his cousin. “No need to say it.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Which is why I said it for you.”

Any concerns Misha might have had about having to deal with his ill-timed boner completely went away. A single minute in his cousin’s presence, and sex was the last thing he was thinking of. “Is there something in particular you want, or are you just here to bother me?”

“I came for my tablet,” Nicholi said as he sat on the edge of the table. A smug grin split his face from ear to ear. “But now I’m here for this conversation.”

“There is no conversation.”

“There should most definitely be a conversation. Specifically about you staring at her while she’s sleeping.”

“I was working while she was sleeping,” he said firmly, all the while hating himself on the inside. What the fuck was wrong with him? Tionne was his family, not someone he was supposed to be thinking of in that manner.

“Really?”

The more Nicholi talked about it, the worse Misha felt. “Yes.”

“What exactly are you working on?” Nicholi reached around Misha and picked up the documents he’d been avoiding while staring at Tionne. “What are these papers in particular in regards to?”

Misha opened his mouth to answer, then promptly closed it. He knew in theory what they were about. He understood the mission, the goal, but for the life of him, he couldn’t remember what he’d been reading for the last twenty minutes while she slept. “Obviously it might be wise for me to take another gander at them.”

“You think?”

Misha picked up the tablet and disconnected the FaceTime application. “I think that this is just proof of what I’ve always known. Tionne is a distraction.” A beautiful, wonderful distraction, but one nevertheless. “I should be focusing on the task at hand, as I was doing before you decided to interfere, once again. Really, Nicholi, why can’t you let well enough alone? She asked for space, and I was giving her space.”

“She didn’t want it, and you didn’t need it.”

“That isn’t for you to decide.”

“Someone should. The two of you are being ridiculous. The sooner you accept the truth, the better.”

“No, the sooner you accept it, the better off we will be. Let it go, Nicholi, because I plan to.”

“Right, ’cause that’s worked so well for you in the past.”

“Then maybe it’s time I try something else.” Obviously, staying away from her wasn’t working. Their brief time apart had only made him long for her more, and since he couldn’t seem to break the hold she had on him, maybe it was time he did something to break the hold he had on her.

“Why did”—Nicholi brushed his hand against the back of his neck—“I just feel a chill? You’re about to do something stupid, aren’t you?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Right,” Nicholi said stiffly.

“As much as I would love to argue with you, I do actually have things I need to get done before our meeting. So take this”—Misha handed Nicholi the tablet—“and use it to get Mr. RaShangler’s aide on the line. Make sure she’s at the meeting tonight.”

“Why?”

Because she was an attractive woman of the right age with whom he had no ties and no chance of loving. “Because I said so.”

Nicholi shook his head. “This is a huge mistake.”

“Your displeasure is duly noted.”

“Great,” Nicholi said sarcastically. “As long as it’s noted. If you need me, I’ll be in the other room planning your funeral, because as soon as Tionne gets a gander at what you’re up to, you’re a dead man.”

Misha refrained from replying, allowing his cousin to exit stage right in his most dramatic of ways. Besides, it wasn’t that Misha needed Nicholi to tell him this wasn’t the best of ideas. Misha already knew that. This just so happened to be the only idea he had that would keep them together, but at arm’s length at the same time. There was no doubt in his mind he loved and cared for her, but his sense of responsibility far outweighed his need to make her his. The only problem was, he didn’t know for how much longer it would. He had two days to think of something before he ruined the best thing in his life.

* * * *

“Is Misha going to pick us up?”

“No.” Tionne closed one eye and ran the liquid eyeliner across the bottom of her eyelid in one sure and deft move. When she was done, she pulled the pen away and fanned the still-damp area to help it dry better before opening her eyes again and giving her makeup a once-over in the mirror. “He’s sending the car.”

“The car. I thought we’d be arriving with him.”

Tionne tried not to let Kristyn’s whinny tone put a damper on her evening, even though the other lady had been doing nothing short of working her last nerve since she’d arrived. “No, he’s going to met us there.”

“Well, that sucks and blows.”

Irritated, Tionne glanced up to the corner of her vanity and glared at her friend in the mirror. “If you don’t want to wait for the car, you’re more than welcome to take a cab and meet me there. Your ticket is in my purse. Feel free to take it and go.”

Kristyn’s pout immediately morphed into a smile as fake as the new tracks she added to her red hair. “I don’t mind waiting for you.”

Tionne resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She wasn’t stupid. It wasn’t her Kristyn didn’t mind waiting for but the limo that would take them to the gala. It was so much easier to pretend to be someone important in a stretched car than it was in a yellow taxi. “Then how about you wait in the other room and let me finish getting dressed? The sooner I’m done, the sooner we can leave.”

“Sure.” Kristyn’s smile cracked a bit. “I’ll just pop into the powder room to freshen up my lipstick.”

“Do that.”

Tionne waited until her friend left before groaning. Kristyn was turning out to be a worse date than Troy. She’d been whining since she arrived. No, scratch that, she’d been whining since Tionne quit her job. It was almost as if the reality of their social and economic differences really hit home with Kristyn when she found out Tionne wasn’t putting a lot of effort into finding a job right away.

Kristyn only saw the fact Tionne didn’t have to work and glossed over the fact Tionne was trying to figure out what she wanted to do with her life on her own terms. The bitterness that had seeped forth with snide comments here and there had shaped and formed a new image of Kristyn to Tionne, and it wasn’t one she liked. To make matters worse, it looked as if Misha was right again. That bastard.

“No. Stop it.” Tionne shook her head. She wasn’t going to allow Kristyn to rain on her parade tonight. She’d worked too hard to look this good to let this night go to waste.

With a smile on her face and a positive
I think I can; I think I can
mantra playing on a loop in her head, Tionne stood and stepped away from her vanity. She slipped on the silver heels she’d picked out just a day ago and turned to stare at herself in the mirror.

The rich eggplant floor-length dress suited not only the natural hues of her earthy skin tone, but the cut of the elegant one-shoulder strap design drew attention to her ample breasts, while the tapered waist accentuated her hourglass figure and lush bottom. It was cut a little lower across her breasts and down her back than any other dress she’d ever worn before, but if things went the way she was hoping they would tonight, she shouldn’t have to wear it for very long.

Misha was finally home. The week he’d spent abroad had been the longest of her life. They hadn’t spoken again after that one wonderful night together. Tionne had even stopped backseat babying him via Nicholi. Instead she’d done what she had initially set out to do the night he left, which was focus on what she wanted to do with her life. The answer she finally came up with wasn’t surprising in the least bit.

She wanted to be with Misha. Period. She was also going to go work on a project of her own. She enjoyed helping out with the foundation Misha had set up for his mother, and she’d been toying with the idea of setting up something in her father’s name for military families. It was something she felt passionate about, and it was for a worthy cause. If that wasn’t worth pursuing, she didn’t know what was. So between that and the life she planned to start building with Misha, Tionne knew she would be happy at last. The foundation was going to be the easy part. Misha would take more work, but she was up to the task because they were worth it. She wanted him, and before this night was over, he was going to be hers.

Kristyn slipped back into the room just as Tionne picked up her bag. “Someone’s at the door,” Kristyn said giddily.

Her happiness was contagious and helped ease a bit of the irritation Tionne had been feeling earlier. What woman didn’t want to go a ball? “Let’s not keep him waiting.”

Kristyn did a little hop-hop thing that made Tionne laugh as she headed into the living room. Always careful, Tionne looked through the peephole before opening the door. “Wallace, are you our driver tonight?”

“Of course, my lady.”

“Does this mean Misha is with you?”

“No, I dropped him off first. Full car.” That made sense, but that didn’t mean she had to like it. “Cheer up, miss. At least this way you’ll get to make an entrance.”

His words brought a smile back to her face. “You’re a wise, wise man.”

“That’s what they tell me, ma’am, but normally they end it with ass.”

Tionne burst out laughing as she went out into the hallway where Darby was waiting. He was dressed for the party as well, decked out in his finery. He’d been such a good guard. Tionne was going to have to do something nice for him before Misha reassigned him. “Everyone ready?” Darby asked.

Kristyn stepped into the vestibule. “I know I am.”

“Then let’s gets this shindig shin
done
.” Tionne closed the door behind Kristyn then handed Darby the key. They’d come to have a routine over the last two weeks, and he preferred to lock the doors himself for his own peace of mind. Once he was done, he handed back the key, and then, as a group, they made their way down to the elevator and to the car.

The ride over was filled with instant messages, social media updates, and some laughter and good-natured teasing between the two women. It was almost as if the last week between her and Kristyn had all been a figment of Tionne’s imagination, and by the time they arrived at the gala, Tionne was too happy to worry about the past. She preferred focusing on the future. She had Misha and that was all that mattered to her.

Still, to be nice, she walked the red carpet with Kristyn, making sure her friend talked to the right columnist so her name would be in the social section of the paper. After a few minutes of posing for some pictures and talking about tonight’s event to reporters, Tionne slipped inside the ballroom, happy to be done with that part of the evening.

Next came the schmoozing with the donors, which she liked a little less than oral surgery, but it was for a worthy cause and it hands-down beat giving the big speech that Misha had to. He couldn’t pay her enough to do that, and besides, it worked best coming from him. He was able to put a face to the cause and to help remind all the privileged people in the room about the rest of the world.

“There are a lot of people here.”

Tionne nodded as she swept the crowd. “Yes, there are.”

“How are we ever going to find him?”

Despite the room being packed, Tionne spotted him the minute she walked into the ballroom. “Already did.”

Misha was exactly where she thought he’d be, in the center of all the attention. Even from this distance, Tionne could see it had been a very stressful week for him. He looked tired. His skin was a bit paler, his stance a bit tense, yet, even saying all that, he looked really good. His face was smooth-shaven, and his regal jawline was framed by the onyx waves of his sable hair. He was decked out in his finery for the evening, and if there was ever a man for whom a tuxedo was made, it was Misha. It wasn’t just the way they fit him, it was the way they became a part of him. He moved with the grace of a dancer, and the material was his partner, catching him, holding him, showing him off in the best light. The jet-black jacket sat perfectly on his broad shoulders, and his pants were tailored to an inch down his long lean legs. Misha was proof it wasn’t the suit that made the man but the other way around.