His dark eyes narrow, jaw setting and a furrow forming between his thick black brows.
“Any news?”
Maxim shakes his head.
I try to swallow the words before they rise to my tongue, but my sympathy or sentimentality gets the better of me. “He’s a good man, your brother.”
Maxim’s voice is low, though he doesn’t look at me when he speaks. “Don’t play with me.”
“I’m not.” I cross my arms, settling deeper into both my sweater and the plush seat. Cold radiates off the window, despite the heat pumping through the compartment. “He is. I don’t need to know him to know that. What he was doing, risking his life to save innocent people—that takes a kind of courage that doesn’t really exist in your line of work.”
Maxim lowers his phone, shifting his black eyes toward the window. His jaw is tight, a tendon standing out clearly against his skin. “He wanted to be a medic, you know. In the army. Then he thought about the FBI.”
I frown. “American?”
Maxim nods tightly. “I told him it was impossible. The feds would never let a Russian infiltrate their ranks. Besides, with his pedigree…being related to me, to our father…I knew it would never happen. But my brother—all he ever wanted to do was help people. And I prevented him from doing that.”
“Don’t,” I say, watching him thoughtfully. “It’s clear how much you love him. It’s clear he loves you.”
“Loved,” he corrects softly.
“Loves. He is not gone yet. That, in itself, is a gift.”
Maxim looks at me. Then, without a word, he slides the curtains closed, blocking his men and the rest of the train from view. A flutter goes through me, tightening in my belly. “I thought the line would be clear with you. It’s not.”
Pink touches his cheeks, and heat rises up the back of my neck. “I could say the same of you.”
“But then you say these things. Things that you mean.”
God damn it.I hate that he sees that. I hate that he can recognize my sincerity. I’ve been a good liar my whole life. Of course this is the one man who can look at me and see the truth, no matter what I do or say. “If it makes you feel any better,” I say, worrying a lose thread on the seam of my trousers, “I don’t try to be honest with you.”
“I know.”
I look up at him and my breath catches. There is no calculation in his face. No false pretense. He’s watching me, icy black eyes and jaw clenched—he’s watching me with an open face, and in it, pure, clear, unabashed desire.
I sit forward, sliding my feet off his bench. He doesn’t move, only continues watching me.Test the boundaries, my mind says. And at the same time, another voice:Don’t blur the lines any further, Annika.
When I move toward him, he only leans back, and I slowly climb onto his lap. My heart is hammering. I hope he doesn’t hear it or feel it. I pray he doesn’t see in my face that this vulnerability, this door left open, gives me more hope than I could ever admit. Hope that he is, deep down, a good man. Hope that, at the end of this, neither has to kill the other.
And that is the best we can hope for.Because there can be nothing else between us. No real affection. No allegiance. No future.
Certainly no love.
Butwant? Desire? Need?
I feel him stiffen beneath me, and a pang of hunger hooks me right under the ribs. I relax into him, sliding my arms around his neck.
This is enough.
I shut down my mind, wipe away everything but him, and me, and this moment. Just this one moment.
I press my lips to the tender skin beneath his ear. Maxim’s hands rise to my hips and I can feel the heat of them through every layer of clothing.Nothing else matters. Let it all go. Memories of that night three years ago press against my mind, but I block them.Just this, just this, just this.
Maxim’s mouth finds mine, hot and demanding. Like a switch flipped, the soft-edged pretense between us dissolves, and I completely surrender. I slide both hands into his hair, those black curls amazingly soft, and part my lips. His tongue slides into my mouth easily, and a soft moan rises up in me. I can’t suppress it, not all the way, and Maxim’s grip tightens on my hips.
If we had more time, if this wasn’t a total mistake, I’d strip every piece of clothing from his body. I’d trace every inch of his skin with my fingers, my tongue. I’d break his will, I wouldn’t just seduce him: I would make him fall in love with me.
But right now, we don’t have time. All we have is this moment.
