Prince of Hearts (28 page)

"Too drunk you mean," Sasha murmured.

It took all of her self-control not to rush to his side and punch him in the face. What in hell's name was Sasha about?

He continued. "In an attempt to calm her overtaxed sensibilities, I offered her vodka last night. I can honestly say I have never seen her behave in such an abandoned manner. I put her to bed."

She was speechless at Sasha's utter cheek.

"Is this true, Aline?" Charlie demanded in a surprisingly hard voice she'd never heard him use before.

She glowered at Sasha, trembling with rage. "Yes. I mean, no." She sighed and ran a hand over her face. "After our row yesterday, I came here –"

"To have a row with me," Sasha interjected. He turned to Aline. "Charlie and I have been discussing his accusations against me before you joined us, Finch, by the way. I told him I had nothing to do with his dismissal."

Charlie looked increasingly incensed. "And I told him I don't believe him."

"And I told him I could care less."

Dear God.

She didn't think she could handle much more of this. "What do you want, Charlie?" she demanded. "You made yourself perfectly clear yesterday."

Charlie made another move to reach her side, and Ilya barked, his hackles rising. Charlie gave the dog a murderous look, which he quickly turned on Sasha. "Professor Romanov, if you could call your beast off, and let me have a moment with my fiancée?" he bit out.

Sasha merely crossed his arms and quirked his eyebrow. "I was under the impression you cried off." He looked at Aline. "Did he not cry off, Finch?"

Charlie's murderous expression managed to deepen, and for a moment Aline feared Charlie would try something ridiculous, like challenge Sasha to a duel. A duel he'd have no hope of winning.

"Professor," she said through gritted teeth, "if you would give us a moment, I would be most appreciative."

Sasha gave her an odd look. Was that hurt she saw in his eyes? If it was, it was quickly gone as he nodded and crossed the room. "Of course, Finch." He snapped his fingers, and Ilya reluctantly followed after him. As Sasha passed by her, however, he completely disconcerted her by brushing the back of her arm with his fingertip, as if he couldn't resist touching her. She barely restrained her gasp.

Charlie glared at the door once Sasha and Ilya had slipped out. Something dark clouded Charlie's eyes, unsettling Aline even more. But she could hardly blame him. Charlie could be scatter-brained, but he wasn't completely oblivious. He had every reason to hate the Professor.

"I never approved of you working for that man, Aline. I do not like him," he muttered.

She put her hands on her hips and glared at him in exasperation. "Well, I believe you lost the right to have an opinion over my life yesterday. Or did you forget breaking the engagement?"

Charlie's brooding expression turned contrite. He strode over to her and took her hand. "I did not forget. I spoke very harshly, but I've regretted my words ever since. Perhaps I was hasty in breaking things off."

This was the last thing she'd been expecting this morning. God help him, Charlie was such a good man, really, despite the lapse yesterday, and she didn't deserve his apology – or a reconciliation – not after last night. "Charlie, I must tell you...”

"No, don't say a word, Aline. I know I mucked it up. I took out my anger on you and it wasn't right. I already have a new sponsor lined up for our Egyptian dig. I believe my plans will work out after all.”

"That's good news, Charlie."

Charlie raised her hand and kissed it. "But they won't work out without you, Aline. I don't want to lose you, my dear."

Her heart was sinking. "Oh, Charlie, I don't know."

He caught her shoulders before she could pull away from him. "We are to be wed in a week, Aline. The airship sails in eight days. Tell me you're going to see this through."

"Charlie, after yesterday, the things you said ... the way we both behaved...”

He grasped her shoulders rather too firmly and shook his head earnestly. "My dear, say you can put yesterday behind you. I know I have."

Aline stared up into Charlie's earnest face and felt thoroughly miserable. Even if she'd wanted to, she couldn't possibly consider reconciling with Charlie, not after last night. It was unfair of her to even consider it.

Though technically they had been finished, over and done with, for the duration of the evening. Technically, she'd not really betrayed him, since they hadn't been engaged. Technically.

Justifying herself just made her feel even worse, and it was pointless anyway. One thing she was certain of was that she couldn't marry Charlie, and it had nothing to do with what happened between her and Sasha. She'd seen a side of Charlie yesterday that he'd hidden from her all of this time. And she hadn't liked it. She thought of all the things she hid from him, and wondered how many other secrets he was keeping from her.

She suspected Charlie was not the steady, dependable character he'd always made himself out to be, and she feared marrying him and enduring a lifetime of unpleasant surprises. She was beginning to think their broken engagement was for the best. She'd been angry with the Professor, of course, over his interference, but beneath the anger, she'd been secretly relieved.

She just hadn't anticipated this strange turn of events. How had it come to this? How had she let herself be drawn into Sasha's web so totally? How had she let him seduce her?

No, that wasn't quite fair to Sasha. He had attempted several times to make her leave.
She
had been the aggressor.
She
had wanted
him
.

God, how she had wanted him, and how she still wanted him! She'd never known such pleasure was possible. Even thinking about the way he'd felt inside of her, the way he’d looked, poised above her, so beautiful and savage, made her ache between her legs.

She couldn't marry another man. She didn't
want
another man.

She faced Charlie, guilt clawing her insides. He must have sensed her mood, for his expression fell. "I'm sorry, Charlie. I can't forget yesterday."
Or last night.

He dropped his hands from her shoulders. "Will you at least think about it?" he asked.

She opened her mouth to stay firm in her refusal. But something in his eyes, something a bit desperate, a bit frightening – the same look she'd seen yesterday right before he'd thrown that strange fit – made her pause and reconsider her words.

"Of course, Charlie," she said, patting his hand. "I shall think about it."

WHEN Aline walked back into the study after sending Charlie off, Sasha was stooped over his desk, as still as a statue. He lifted his head and locked eyes with her, and those strange amber depths shone with an outrage so profound she felt as if he’d slapped her in the face.

She had not expected this.

"Did you just reconcile with the bone-hunter?" he demanded in a hard voice.

His imperious tone raised her hackles. She drew herself up. "What makes you think that is any of your business?" she retorted.

He pointed towards the chair he'd sat in last night.
The
chair.

She blushed crimson, her entire body going hot. "What happened was a mistake. We were drunk. I was drunk. You took advantage...”

Something painful flashed over his face. "
I
took advantage? Liar. You came to me. You wanted me just as much as I wanted you,
milaya
."

He was, of course, right, though she didn't want to admit it to herself or to him.

"Does it matter? Does it change anything?"

"You can't possibly reconcile with Neverfeel!" he cried.

"Why are you so worried?" she asked quietly. "Have your plans changed, Sasha? Do you no longer intend to leave me behind?"

He was taken aback by her bluntness. He just stared at her, as if trying to puzzle something out. She didn't wait for his response. She didn’t think she could bear it. "As I thought. Nothing has changed."

"I could stay. For a time..." he began.

She couldn’t help but feel stung by his suggestion. Somehow it was worse than him simply leaving. "I won't be your mistress, Sasha. I know what happens to them. You have your secretary break up with them. You'll soon tire of ... this."

His amber eyes darkened. "I'll not tire of you, ever," he said fiercely, pounding his fist so hard on his desk the wood cracked. She stared at what he'd done so carelessly, so effortlessly, and went cold inside.

She kept forgetting what he was. What he was capable of. He'd said himself he felt out of control around her, which was why he was leaving. She finally understood why he thought it necessary. Judging by his broken desk, it took very little to set him off these days. She didn't think he would hurt her, not intentionally. But his secret life was dangerous. Violent. And it scared her.

He'd ripped off a man's head with his bare hands. She could never forget that.

She wondered if she was strong enough to stay by his side at all, if it came to that. But it was fruitless to even consider these things. When he said he'd never tire of her, she yearned for it to be true. Yet she dared not believe it. Their physical attraction was one thing, but letting herself believe that he cared for her was dangerous folly.

Sasha could give her nothing she needed, besides his body. He was too damaged to even think to offer her more. And in the end, despite what he claimed, he would grow bored of her, as he grew bored of all of his women. Even if he didn't, even if this was somehow different for him, not merely a fling, he was
not
mortal
. He would remain as he was forever, and she'd age and die. It was an impossible situation.

He looked down at what he had done and winced. Clenching his hands into fists, he came around the edge of his desk, and she could tell he was struggling to hold onto his frayed temper. "I will not let you marry him," he declared.

She was exasperated by his persistence on the subject, but it just proved that all of her racing thoughts were foolish. She doubted a future beyond a short liaison had even entered his thick, male head. "You selfish, arrogant ass! You can't have me, so no one else can, is that it?"

"Yes!"

She recoiled at his brutal honesty and backed away as he stalked towards her. "I am my father's son," he sneered. "I tried to warn you. I tried to send you away last night. You know what I am. Do you think I shall not have my way?"

She searched his angry eyes. "I know you'd never hurt me, Sasha," she said quietly.

"I don't want to. But I can't seem to help myself," he said.

"You're leaving. Would you have me spend the rest of my life alone? As miserable and ... and soulless as you?"

Something seemed to snap in him at her brutal words. His lips turned up in a snarl, and he seized her by the shoulders. "What do you want of me? What would you have me do? Do you think this feeling between us when we make love is normal?"

Make love
. She shivered at his words and shook her head. "I wouldn't know."

His expression softened for a moment. "Of course you wouldn't know,
milaya
." He kissed her forehead. "But I know. It is not normal. It is madness. I've never felt this way before."

"Don't say such things, Sasha."

"It's the truth."

"This must stop," she whispered, pushing him away, her heart pounding. "Things have gotten out of hand."

"Is that what you call it?" he asked, trailing his long, elegant fingertips over her cheek, down her neck. She caught his hand before it could move any lower, before her defenses were completely shattered by his wicked touch.

"Please, Sasha, listen to me," she entreated.

But he didn't seem to hear her any more. He leaned into her, and she was drowning, suffocating in his intoxicating scent once more. She gasped for air.

"You must break with him," he whispered.

His words brought her out of her momentary stupor. He was like a dog with a bone. She attempted to break away, but he caught her close in his arms and lowered his head. He kissed her passionately, and she was immediately lost to the world in physical rapture, her body melding to his.

She tried to fight it. She'd been fighting it ever since the night he’d tipped her on her desk and kissed her. If that one event hadn't happened, she would have gone her whole life without ever knowing such feeling could exist between two people. She would have married Charlie and have been complacently bored for the rest of her days.

But he
had
kissed her, and she had felt the world as she knew it fragment around her. And it was terrifying, because she knew that more than her body had been surrendered to Sasha. He'd not asked for anything else, and he'd not want anything else, but somewhere along the way, her heart, traitor that it was, had fallen at his feet, filled with foolish love.

And she feared he would trample it.

Suddenly, she felt suffocated. She broke the kiss and wrenched free of him, gathering her wits. She needed to leave before she made yet another wretched decision. She couldn't seem to help herself when he touched her. And he knew it, the devil.

"Where do you think you're going?" he demanded as she stumbled towards the door.

"I'm leaving. I can't think straight here."

But before she could reach the door, he was there, pulling it closed and turning the lock.

She stopped up short and gaped at the speed with which he'd moved. It was the second time this morning he'd betrayed his inhuman abilities, as if he were beyond caring. For the first time since this strange conversation started, she began to feel truly uneasy.

"We're not finished,
milaya
," he murmured with quiet, deadly intent.

"Yes, we are. Let me out."

"You'll not leave me. Not yet. You're mine. Mine!" he breathed hoarsely.

She couldn't believe what she was hearing. "You ... beast!"

He laughed darkly. "Yes, that's what I am. And you like it."

"You are unbelievable! I’m leaving," she cried, trying to push him aside and open the door, but the minute her hand touched his hard torso, she could feel her good sense flying out the window. She snatched her hand back and fumbled for the lock.