Shuddering at the idea of fully accepting that this sinister criminal could be my personal hero, I lowered my gaze to the table as he left the room.
No. Stop, Claire.
He’s not your anything.
Mikhail was way too complicated to be mine.
15
MIKHAIL
The night I caved to my desire for Claire, I told her not to deny how much we wanted each other. In the next couple of days afterward, it seemed like we were both dancing around it.
Her insistence to leave was a thorn that pricked at my side, but the looks she couldn’t hide contradicted her wishes to go.
My demand for her to submit was too much of an ask for her, but the way she sighed and blushed when we brushed past each other proved I wasn’t as strong as I wanted to be in this war of resistance.
I’d be damned if I had to chase her again.
She needed to submit to me. I could struggle and endure wanting her again, but I had to be patient for her to come to me, to break first and initiate any more intimacy.
It killed me not to steal her away and kiss her until we were breathless.
It agonized me to watch her at meals and in my home and know I was keeping my distance. This waiting game couldn’t lastforever, but it was an easier playing field when I was kept so busy.
Between the Popovs trying to fuck with our businesses and portray the Orlovs as weak and the Giovannis trying to usurp our monopoly on the drug trade in this city, I had no spare time to seduce this sexy doctor.
Still, I was aware of her. I kept tabs on her, either following and listening in on her when I was home or relying on Martin and other members of the staff to report to me.
Claire and Anya continued to slowly get used to each other. Perhaps it was nothing more than their both being in the same place and having no one else to talk to. Claire’s phone was still locked from normal use, and the device would stay like that until I deemed it safe for her to reach out to anyone outside these walls.
It seemed to start as a gradual acquaintance at first, both of them passing by each other in the hallways or in the kitchen. Then they seemed to plan to run into each other. Small talk was the main theme between them—commenting on the weather or food. Banal, whatever details.
But then they seemed to get closer yet. The day I had a new piano delivered to a different room, sparing Anya any trauma connected to when she was shot at in the large ballroom, Claire found the instrument and tapped a few keys. Anya passed by and scoffed, telling her it was out of tune and not worth her time.
The next day, I had it tuned.
The following day, Claire asked if Anya played. They sat together at the bench as Anya taught her the basics. That afternoon, Claire helped Anya with some science homework, materialprovided through the remote tutor she’d had when she lived in Moscow.
Watching them connect softened my regard for the sassy doctor, but it couldn’t erase the biggest obstacle of all. Claire would never belong in my world when she was so determined to stand on the other side, the side with normal society.
When I could, I caught up on how they were getting along. Checking if they were sharing any details I could benefit from knowing about. They didn’t. Watching to see if Anya would smile or act happier. She might have come close it.
Any good faith that was being established between Claire and Anya came to a standstill the next night. Almost two weeks had passed since I’d brought Claire here. Almost fourteen days of wrangling with the mystery of having not one female, but two in my life.
“I don’t care,” Anya shouted at me when I caught her trying to sneak out the back door to go to the pool.
“I didn’t ask if you cared about my rules,” I told her. “If you want to go out to the pool and conservatory, you make sure a guard is with you.”
“Because I’m just a prisoner, right? Trapped like a caged animal.” She stormed off, overreacting that I’d caught her trying to slip out of the house without letting anyone know.
“Is that necessary?” Claire asked, raising her brows. She’d heard the shouting match. Everyone on the floor would have.
“Yes, it’s fucking necessary.” I stalked up to her, wishing I could vent all my anger and exhaustion on her.Withher. This tension simmered too hot between us and I damned her for not cavingto come to me again. “The night I came to the hospital was the night men came to target her. I won’t apologize for doing all I can to keep her safe.”
“But it’s not like she is leaving. The whole block is guarded,” she pointed out. “All she wants is some free will, the freedom to choose where to be and what to do without being monitored with so much direct surveillance.”
“Don’t act like you know what you’re talking about.” I turned from her, going to my room to pace and drink until I could fall asleep, only to suffer through more dreams of her.
