Lie to Me (30 page)

“Ah well, probably better left to fantasy.” Misha let out a sigh, rose from the table and refilled his mug. “What else would you like to do today, Sasha? We’ve got a plane to catch tomorrow morning.”

Alexei’s gaze pulled to Sasha as she rose from the couch and nervously ran her hands down the hem of his shirt. Her eyes met his, flickered away with the slightest touch of something he couldn’t define. Fear? Discomfort? Embarrassment?

Damn Misha. He’d pushed too far. Brought up things Sasha’s more modest sensibilities couldn’t embrace.

“I’d like to go on a walk.” She looked back to Alexei, chewing on her lower lip. “Alone.”

He winced inwardly.

“Would that be possible?”

“Yeah,” he mumbled, wishing like hell she hadn’t tagged her request with
alone.
She’d seen too much of him. Things he never wanted her to discover. He didn’t like the way she refused to look at him, the way her gaze kept pulling to the window and the hills beyond.

With a brief nod, she disappeared down the hallway to the bedroom below. Alexei waited until he heard the bathroom door close, the run of water in the sink. Then he took off his watch and tossed it at Misha. “You scared her off, you follow her.”

Misha caught the gadget at his shoulder. “Huh?”

“She’s gonna run.” He felt it in his bones.

S
asha hadn’t intended to run. Just to escape for a little while and make sense of the shocking sensations that lit her up on the inside. She’d seen that dark flash of desire in Alexei’s eyes. Knew Misha had been right, that Alexei liked the idea of sharing her. At least with Misha.

Just like she did.

And she couldn’t rationalize how she could love one man, yet be turned on by another, even if the pull of desire wasn’t nearly as strong when she looked at Misha. It was absolutely wicked. Sinfully tempting.

Nor could she rationalize how Alexei could embrace the idea with Misha, yet had rejected Grigoriy’s obvious desire so fiercely. Because they knew each other better? Or because of the past Alexei refused to share with her?

The longer she walked, the more she became afraid of what would happen if she allowed Misha to convince her to do what she wanted. She didn’t even know if she wanted it, or if she merely wanted it for Alexei. Opening to him, to them, on that level would eradicate any protective emotional barrier she had left. Which terrified her more than the thrills that tumbled around in her belly like butterflies on crack.

Prompting her to take a train into the heart of Florence, then another, and another, until she’d backtracked and doubled-over so many times it became impossible to deny she was running away from Alexei. Because she wanted him, wanted to please him, more than she had ever wanted anything. Anyone.

Because she needed him like she needed the air around her.

Because if she went down the road that waited and accepted that Alexei might be in love with her, she couldn’t stand the thought of the pain she would bring him. He’d suffered enough. She refused to etch those lines on his handsome face deeper. Refused to add another scar. And she would the minute they arrived in London. Either her past would swallow her, or her father would carve out her heart. One way or the other, she was doomed to wound Alexei.

So she told herself it was better this way, and kept on moving toward the train station and the ticket that would take her out of Italy.

She lied to herself, convincing her heart it wouldn’t hurt as much if she left now, before she couldn’t.

On autopilot, she approached the window. “Venice.” She held up her index finger. “One.”

The pretty brunette nodded, clicked a few keys on a computer terminal, and ripped off a ticket stub. Sasha couldn’t translate her thick Italian as she pushed the printed tickets across the countertop, but mortification slammed into her like a heavy sledge.
Money.

Damn. She’d been so caught up on jumping trains and busses, using the pocket change Alexei had given her, she hadn’t considered it would take more than a few coins to go across the country.

A familiar, tanned masculine hand reached around her and fanned three bills on the countertop. The scent of sweet spice hit Sasha, and she groaned inwardly. With a jittery smile, she turned her head to meet Misha’s unblinking blue stare.

“Going somewhere?”

Dumbly, she nodded. Though she realized her trip had just been aborted.

Misha took the ticket from the cashier and wadded it up in his hand. He grabbed her gently by the elbow, turning her around, steering her toward the exit. Outside, he didn’t stop on the sidewalk. He kept going until they reached a shaded bench at the base of an ornate fountain. A classic statue of a Roman man poured water over the
shoulder of a bare-chested woman at his feet. Around them, tiny jets arced smaller streams that alternated heights at coordinated intervals.

Misha pulled her onto the seat beside him. “Did I run you off?”

Sasha stared at her feet and shook her head.

“So why
are
you running?” He let go and scrunched down in the seat, tossing his legs in front of him, one foot across the other.

“I don’t know.” She tucked her toes around the opposite ankle.

“Yes you do.”

Slowly, hesitantly, she lifted her gaze to his. Warmth radiated into her, understanding she’d never dreamed she might find. Not the scolding she expected, or the anger Alexei treated her to the last time she bolted.

He was an enigma, this tall, lanky stranger who exuded confident strength. Behind his subtle dominance lay a gentleness that seemed totally out of character for the professional killer she knew him to be. Everything he did, every word he spoke, demanded compliance. And yet, in some way she couldn’t describe, he wore his heart on his sleeve.

Humanity a Black Opal shouldn’t possess or show to a mere stranger.

Impulse drove her to ask, “Why do you want…this?”

Those blue eyes clouded with shadows as a frown pulled across his strong brow. “Because Alexei is like a brother to me and you have something he needs.”

She let out a soft, disbelieving snort and stared at the cascading water.

“Sasha.” Her name was a quiet command.

Afraid he could read the secrets of her soul, Sasha tentatively looked at him.

M
isha nodded as Sasha’s blue eyes met his, reflecting the love he had almost begun to believe he’d imagined witnessing in that brief moment when her gaze connected with his while he watched from the
balcony. That emotion provoked deep satisfaction. He hadn’t read her wrong. She cared for Alexei as much as he did.

More
.

“Why are you pushing this?” she asked in a near whisper. “Just to fuck me?”

“No.” He brushed a straying lock of her long blonde hair over her shoulder. Fucking her had nothing to do with it. He’d enjoy the hell out of that delicious little body, to be certain. But that wasn’t his motivator. The only way to open Alexei up to the feeling Misha knew he possessed for Sasha, was to make hers impossible to deny. Alexei needed that shining love, even though he might not be aware of it himself. Misha knew, because he needed it just as deeply.

Only he had destroyed that precious entity and would never know it again.

He pulled in a sharp breath against the rise of memories, visions of windswept raven hair and eyes like molten silver that glittered with hatred. His smile came weakly, more rote habit to further block the anguish of regret. “I don’t need to fuck you, Sasha. I want to, yes, but I’ll be just fine if I don’t.” He studied her a moment, gauging if she was strong enough to hear the truth.

He decided she didn’t have a choice. “Did Alexei tell you about his mother?”

Confusion puckered her brow as she shook her head.

Just as he’d figured. Misha would stake his life that Alexei would never risk the shame of giving Sasha that piece of him. To trust her to be able to see beyond the sin and care for the man who’d sacrificed his very soul to save someone he loved.

He stared at the fountain. “Alexei was a kid when she was diagnosed with cancer the first time. I didn’t know him then. Only saw what happened when it came back.”

Sasha winced and held up her hand. “Don’t. This is personal.”

Misha grabbed that dainty appendage and tucked it into his lap. “I have to. He was seventeen. They didn’t have health insurance. No way
of paying for the treatments. I don’t know the whys and hows of it, but I think she was overwhelmed and Alexei was in that place where a boy feels the need to be a man.”

He pursed his mouth, remembering the bitter young man who’d nearly gotten himself killed by getting in over his head. “I met him two years later. I was on a mission in San Francisco. Embedded in one of the Chinese Triads. Alexei cut some deal with the son of the dragon. Ran some drugs. Chased down some debts. Pulled the trigger a few times.” He shifted, crossing opposite ankles. “He sent the money back to his mother. Every damn dime of it to some neighbor who cared for her.”

Slowly, he turned his gaze on Sasha. “When that couldn’t cover her medical bills, he sold himself.”

Those pretty blue eyes went wide. On the heels of her surprise, however, they pricked with moisture. She closed her long lashes and Misha observed the effort it required to swallow.

“Pretty-boy Mark—the dragon’s wife figured out he was one hot commodity. In between taking out the opposition and dropping a bag of coke here and there, he picked up thousands entertaining her friends.”

“Oh.” She lifted her fingers to her mouth, stifling the heartrending exclamation.

“Kid had potential, and I got to know him through the back-alley meetings, the parties in penthouses. When we busted that ring, I introduced him to Clarke. Far as I know, he’s still sending money back to his mother. But he hates himself, Sasha. And that hate will kill him eventually.”

“Oh,
Alexei
,” she whispered.

Cocking one leg on the seat between them, Misha turned to face her fully and gathered both her hands in his. “He chose you. He sent me back to find you. He’s never forgotten you. He’d give his life for you, but he’ll never allow himself to believe you might love him.”

He squeezed her hands emphatically. “And I have to tell you this because he never will. He’ll lie and create excuses when you get too
close. He’ll push you away before you ever see it coming. I won’t let him destroy the one thing he needs more than his damned gun.”

“Misha…” She shook her head, and a tear trickled down her cheek.

“So.” Releasing her hands, he gave her an encouraging smile to lighten the dark mood. “You open up first, give in to something you’re afraid to admit to, and show him it’s okay to do the same. Whatcha say, darlin’?”

W
hat could she say? Sasha’s heart bled for the sacrifices Alexei had made. A boy, making a man’s decisions. He shouldn’t be ashamed of his past, of himself. Knowing these secrets only made her want to take away that pain.

God, the choices he had made…

She winced, understanding now the deep significance of the things Misha revealed last night—why Alexei had always shared his women. The magnitude of his choice to keep her for himself. Her heart turned over once again, stabbing pain between her ribs.

“There’s a sweet life in love.” Misha’s voice held a wistful note. His gaze had turned to the fountain, introspective. “You have to decide whether you run, or if you’re brave enough to live.”

Sasha detected more to his reflective observation, deeper meaning in his faraway stare. He was holding back a part of himself, darkness that haunted him the same way it haunted Alexei. But that shadow wasn’t hers to brighten. She couldn’t, and he wasn’t asking her to try.

“I’m not afraid.” Not anymore. Alexei didn’t need to know the secrets of her past. Somehow she’d find a way to keep them buried. Maybe Misha would help. Maybe she’d tell Alexei just enough to let him know the danger in taking her to London. If he believed, he would keep her away from her father.

“Okay.” Exhaling a harsh breath, Misha stood up. “Let’s go back, my bike’s around the corner. He’s going to be pissed. We’ll figure out a plan for that, while we’re discussing the other…details.”

That damnable thrill did a wild somersault in her belly as she rose to her feet. She was going to do this. Really truly going through with the shocking proposal of giving two men freedom with her body.

A frown niggled as another thought sidelined her. “How’d you find me?”

At that, Misha laughed. He pointed to her shoe. “Alexei bugged you.”

N
ightfall cast deep purple shadows through the darkened rooms as Alexei paced. What the hell was taking Misha so goddamned long? Sasha had a tracking device on her, for fuck’s sake. They should have been back hours ago.

He jogged down the stairs to the bedroom for the second time in fifteen minutes. This time, he grabbed his shoes. Screw it, he was going after them. Something had happened. Kadir caught up with them, one of Grigoriy’s fellow goons had her tied up somewhere—he didn’t know. But he couldn’t take another minute of the intolerable silence.

Halfway down the hall, he came to a standstill with a groan. What exactly was he going to do—roam the sidewalks and hope he found a note that said she’d been taken? He dropped his shoes with a hiss. Christ, he was acting like a mother hen.

Sasha was with Misha. Misha wouldn’t let a damn thing happen to her. Chances of anyone surprising Misha were less than nil.

Bracing one arm on the wall, Alexei shut his eyes and pulled in a deep breath. He needed to calm the hell down. He didn’t want Sasha thinking he was mad at her for running. He should have known better than to let that conversation go as far as it had. He just wanted her home.

Home.

His thoughts stopped on that dangerous word. He hadn’t had a home in fifteen long years. Not one that came with the meaning of the word. Just physical residences, often roach motels that serviced only
his need for infrequent sleep. For the first time since he walked away from his home in San Francisco at seventeen, he yearned for the comfort. The idea of coming in the door to the smell of dinner, the sound of the low-droning television. He craved normalcy so bad he could taste it.