Chapter Seven
Finley sat there just staring at the damn text on the phone. What did it mean? Nothing she decided. It didn't really mean anything. She rolled her eyes so hard she almost flipped out of the chair. Yeah right. The problem was it meant everything.
The question, on the other hand, was did it change anything. She wasn't sure. Michail had been clear. He wasn't offering anything beyond one night. There had been no promises of a tomorrow, no promises of anything. They'd spent a fabulous night together, and then Michail had walked out. Just walked out with barely a word. Of course, then he'd texted her he was falling in love with her. But Finley wasn't stupid, being in love didn't solve the world's problems no matter how much you might wish it did.
For a man like Michail that kind of vulnerability was dangerous and terrifying. Words like that didn't come easy or often for him. She understood why he couldn't tell her. It wasn't like she'd told him how she felt either. In her experience, words were often overrated. They could be curated and carefully selected. Words often lied. Actions rarely did. Michail had certainly shown her how he felt. He had been willing to trade his life to save her. It had been a doomed and foolish gesture, no doubt, but he had done it without hesitation.
Finley raked a hand down her face, and stared at the crappy beige carpet. She never wanted to be in this position, yet here she was. She'd never dreamed she would be in love with any man, let alone two. Love was a difficult and desperate emotion. It made people do stupid things. Maybe the right answer was neither.
Maybe what Finley needed to do was focus on herself, focus on school. Maybe just stick to friends with benefits. Nikko's beautiful face flashed in her mind, and she gave a little grimace. Except for Nikko. Nikko was a friend, but those benefits might kill her. Instead of a love triangle, she'd end up in a love square, and then she'd really be doomed. She snorted. God she really was a walking disaster.
But right now, she needed to get up and get dressed. She had to go to that stupid meet and greet, and pretend she was normal. Pretend she wasn't some mob kid that had been raped by her stepdad. Pretend her friends weren't mercenaries. Pretend the men she loved weren't all criminals in the eyes of the very law she wanted to defend. Yeah, good luck with the normal part. She gave a little strangled cry that sounded suspiciously like desperation.
Finley went through the mechanics of getting ready. She showered and changed into the shirt and skirt she bought earlier. She looked at herself in the mirror. Her face was pale, even paler than usual and her eyes looked haunted. None of that was surprising, but she really needed to make a good impression with these people. Her future hung in the balance, not to mention both Stephanie and the Senator had stuck their neck out for her to get her this internship.
She rolled her hair in a French twist and pinned it up. It made her look more office worker than slutty librarian. She was beginning to think maybe the shirt and skirt didn't make such a good combination. The skirt molded to her ass a little more than she would have liked, and the filmy material of the shirt hinted at a sexiness that she didn't see under the glare of the fluorescent lights at the mall. In the more natural lighting, even the camisole was visible. The sheerness of it a little startling. Not that the outfit didn't look good, it did. It was just not the image she wanted to project.
Finley often got a lot of unwanted male attention. The last thing she needed to do was have someone say the way she was dressed was asking for it. The touching, the snide remarks, the invading of personal space all justified because of a damn skirt. A little shudder went through her. It had been her cheerleader uniform that had set off her stepfather. A plain old uniform worn by everybody had made her a slut just begging to be raped. At fourteen there had been a lot of guilt that came with that. A decade later, the only thing that came with that was hatred and rage.
Nikko had planted a seed in her mind that had started to grow. One she didn't really know how to deal with. People said revenge was the base response, that forgiveness was what would set you free. Finley disagreed. Revenge could be rewarding. If that made her less, than so be it. For her it was about finding justice in an unjust situation.
People always quoted Gandhi when they chastised you about revenge. Gandhi had famously said an eye for an eye only makes the whole world go blind, but Finley didn't believe that. Gandhi had failed to understand the value of an eye for an eye. It wasn't just about revenge; it was about proportional justice. An eye for an eye, was justice. Two eyes for one, was revenge. There was a difference.
That man had stolen her childhood. Stolen her identity, peace, and faith from her. He had been deemed a wonderful, law abiding citizen, and that is what he had done to her. The Nikkos of the world had been branded common criminals, forced to the shadows, but it was the Nikkos, the Declans and the Michails that had saved her. Given her dignity back. Given her pride back.
The world was not black and white, it was just varying shades of gray. Finley had learned that a long time ago. She'd also learned that people were sometimes weak and flawed. Sometimes they did bad things, made bad decisions, and let you down, but that didn't make them monsters. It just made them human. Her mother certainly let her down but Finley had made peace with that. Her mother had relied so heavily on her father, that she didn't have her own identity. Everything about her was wrapped up in being his wife. Maybe that had worked fine for them, until he had died. The problem with your whole world being wrapped up in another person, was what happened when you lost that person, and inevitably you always did.
Her mother had been absolutely devastated when her father died. Completely adrift. No identity, no path forward. That was the problem with relationships that consumed you. When her stepfather had come along, her mother had jumped at the chance to be in a relationship again. Be someone's wife. It was the only identity she'd ever known. Her mother ignored all the red flags, and marched forward.
When he'd raped her, she knew deep down her mother knew the truth. She could see it on her face. But her mother couldn't bear the thought of losing her identity again. It was easier to just accept the convenient story that it was really someone else. It was all just a big misunderstanding. Her mother had chosen status and belonging over her own daughter. It had taken Finley a long time to come to grips with that, to find a measure of forgiveness for her mother. She'd felt betrayed and angry. She vowed she would never be her mother. Never so wrapped up in someone else that she didn't know who she was.
Maybe she'd taken it too far, shunning all relationships. Perhaps that is why she hadn't committed to Declan. Why she couldn't take what he was offering. He was good, and kind. He was easy to love, and it would be easy to lose herself in him. Letting him take the lead and guide the way. That's what frightened her. It was too easy to just become her mother, entirely reliant on someone else, completely wrapped up in their identity.
Maybe she gravitated to men like Michail, because they were safe. As ironic as that was. They couldn't offer a relationship, so she was never in danger of losing herself and her identity. Michail might be destined to break her heart and consume her in other ways, but lost in a relationship wasn't one of them.
Finley pulled herself out of her thoughts. She'd also learned what you looked like mattered, so she put some concealer under her eyes and swiped on mascara and blush. She slicked on some peachy nude lipstick and headed for the door, her high heels clicking on the bathroom tile. She stopped and turned back.
She went into her bedroom and opened her jewelry box. There nestled in the black velvet was the necklace Michail had given her. The emerald glowing warmly surrounded by twinkling diamonds. Every time she looked at it, the necklace reminded her of their ill-fated date. How Michail had turned the garden into a fairytale forest. It had a magical quality about it, with the thousand little twinkling lights dancing in the moonlight. She was pretty sure a part of her had fallen just a little in love with him at that moment. The way he had held her when they danced. That kiss. Warmth spread through her at the memory. She was going to miss him the rest of her days, but unlike fairytale princesses she didn't live in an enchanted forest, and there was no such thing as happily ever after. Finley lived in the real world, at least most of the time.
She didn't know why, but she wanted a little piece of him with her tonight. Something to remind her of him. She'd made a decision. The day after tomorrow she was flying out to be with Declan. She'd meet Declan half-way. She would agree to a relationship, but she wasn't going public and she wasn't moving in. She needed to get through school and pass the bar. If they were still together at that point, then they would see. There was no need to rush anything.
She'd had her one night with Michail, and she'd survived it. Barely, but she had. Her heart would never survive another one of that, she was sure. Nikko had made a good point about her being an Achilles heel for Michail. The last thing she wanted was for someone to use her against him, not to mention she wasn't a huge fan of being kidnapped and tortured. True, someone could do the same with Declan, but the odds were lower. His life and organization were much more stable. There was always risk, the key was deciding how much risk was acceptable.
Finley closed the clasp on the necklace and let it settle between her breasts. The solid familiar weight comforting her. She grabbed her bag and headed out the door.
After an hour at the restaurant, Finley had been fake smiling for so long, she thought it was entirely possible the stupid half-smile, half-grimace was permanently frozen on her face. She forced another polite laugh from her frozen lips at some truly lame joke. The senior partner seemed pleased that she was so captivated by him. He preened from the attention. The glare of the overhead lighting causing his scalp to shine through his thinning hair. He was completely lacking in self-awareness. He didn't even realize just how uninteresting he really was. She figured that is what money and power bought him. He seemed nice enough though for a soft boring lawyer type anyway. He was enthusiastic about the growth of his law firm. Not overly handsy or patronizing. She thought it wouldn't be so bad to work with him. Finley would be his personal assistant this summer. It was a good opportunity and she was grateful for it.
There were certainly worse choices, like the junior partner that kept leering at her, and standing so close she almost gagged on his aftershave. She had no doubt it was expensive, but it was overpowering and cloying. He smelled liked he'd bathed in it. She knew he was working his way up the harassment ladder. First the inappropriate comments, then the invasion of space, then he would touch her. She forced herself not to sigh. This event couldn't go on forever, even though it felt like it already had.
Finley headed over to another group. She needed to get to know people's faces and names. The more she could learn about them the better she would be as a personal assistant. One of her many talents, she could be anything you needed her to be. People would see what they wanted, and they would tell her things. Those tidbits of information would serve her well. Usually, it helped her clip artwork or other expensive items, but the same principle held for office work. At least she hoped it did, or she'd spent way too much time talking to morons tonight.
Finley felt a tingle at the base of her spine, and sucked in a sharp breath. She scanned around the room, but didn't see anybody. She would swear she was being watched. Of course, she probably was. The whole year she'd spent thinking maybe, somehow it was Michail she felt, it had been Nikko and Declan's security team. That's probably all it was now too.
She shook off the feeling, but couldn't help but touch the pendant nestled against her chest. Maybe she just wished it was Michail. But wishing and wanting didn't get you anything. At least nothing tangible. Only hard work and determination did that, so she pasted the fake smile on her face and scanned for the next person she needed to interact with. She almost groaned as the junior partner swaggered up. This was it. He was going to proposition her; she could feel it coming.
Her fake smile slipped a little as she felt his hand slide down her back onto the swell of her ass.
"I like this skirt." He leaned in close as his had dipped lower. Her back was to the wall, so any outside observer would think they were just talking, but she knew the moves. If she made a scene, she would be labeled as hysterical. A troublemaker.
She felt his hand slip between her thighs as he cupped her ass. Finley kept her smile firmly in place as she turned towards him, and ran her hand down his arm grasping the offending hand. She used a little move Nikko had taught her. She felt the bones in his hand grinding and popping as she applied pressure. His eyes widened in surprise, and then he turned ghostly pale, sweat popped out on his upper lip as she increased the pressure.
"Thank you, but how about you admire it from afar next time, and keep your hands to yourself." She winked at him.
He nodded his head enthusiastically trying to pull his hand away. Finley held firm and squeezed a little harder. He made a little strangled, whimpering sound. Finley really wanted to break the bones in his hand, but she refrained. Restraint, something else Nikko had taught her.
She let his hand go and stepped away from him, heading towards the bar. Finley watched as the senior partner left. The meet and greet was winding down, and that was her cue. She decided she'd have a drink and then head home. She figured it was probably safe to switch from water to something stronger at this point, and she could really use something stronger. She had a feeling the junior partner wouldn't be bothering her anymore tonight, and probably not all summer. A surge of satisfaction and power went through her. She wasn't an easy target, not anymore.
A bartender stepped up with a glass on a tray. "Ma'am, a glass of our Macallan 30-year-old fine oak. Compliments of the owner."
He handed her the glass, and nodded with his head to a hallway. "There is a private bar at the end of the hall."
Finley just stood there for a moment. OK, that seemed odd. She took a small sip of her drink. It was wonderfully smooth with a richness of cloves and nutmeg. It finished with just a hint of sweet spice and citrus. It was remarkable. Of course, it should be. She knew if was very high end.
Compliments of the owner. Now her curiosity was piqued. She headed down the hall to the private bar area. A large wooden bar dominated the space, with red leather barstools. It was more like a sitting room than a bar. A large leather sofa and chairs graced the center of the room, with a large mahogany desk at the back wall. The room was all dark wood, and heavy fixtures. It had a very masculine feel. From the dark walls, to the subtle red Persian rug that complimented the leather furniture it radiated money and power. It felt vaguely familiar.
She walked up to the bar and ran her fingertips over the counter as she sat the glass down. She thought about it for a minute, the room had a feel to her. An energy. It reminded her of the library at the Petrov estate.
Her lips parted with a small gasp when she heard Michail's rich, silky voice. She locked eyes with him in the mirror above the bar. He closed the door behind him. The snick of the lock echoed in the room, and she felt a little tingle go up her spine. The same little tingle she'd felt before. It had been Michail that had been watching her.
She was frozen just staring at him in the mirror, their eyes locked as he stalked towards her. He stopped behind her, his body skimming hers. His hands rubbed her arms and he leaned down and kissed her neck. Instinctively she pressed back against him and tilted her neck to give him better access. She let out the breath she had been holding, as she felt his warmth and strength seep into her. He felt like everything she'd been waiting for her whole life, and didn't know she was missing.
"I missed you." He whispered as he feathered light kisses on her neck.
"But I've barely been gone." The minute the words left her mouth, she knew how inane they sounded. She'd desperately missed him too.
She felt him smile against her neck. He reached up and pulled the pins out of her hair, letting it tumble down her back in a cascade.
"There is too much fire in you to be all buttoned up like this." He growled as he ran his hands through her hair gently massaging her scalp. It felt like heaven.
Finley thought she might not be the only one with too much fire to be buttoned up, she could feel him pressed against her backside. He felt like hot steel burning through the thin fabric of her skirt. The feel of him stirring a simmering desire in her.
When she felt his hands on her thighs, pulling up her skirt, a sound of pure need escaped her throat before she could stop it. She was shocked at her wantonness. They were in a public place; someone could walk in on them.
Her hand grasped his stopping his ascent. "Michail." She whispered breathless. "We can't someone might come."
"No, krasotka. The door is locked."
"But what if someone needs in?" Her reservations were quickly evaporating, as his hand stroked her thigh.
"They won't." He promised.
Realization dawned on her. "Because you are the owner."
"Yes."
Michail turned her around. Her heart was hammering in her chest. She could feel her own pulse fluttering wildly. He had to know what he did to her. Surely, he could hear the hammering of her heart.
He was so close. She could smell his intoxicating scent, and feel him prodding against her belly. Heat was swirling through her, settling at her core causing an ache only he could stop.
Some men kissed like they were asking permission with their lips. Michail wasn't one of them. The way he kissed was demanding. There was an expectation that she was his, and he conveyed that with his lips, his mouth, his tongue. That she would open for him in every way, and bare her soul. Nothing held in reserve. He wanted it all. He wanted all of her. Every touch, every swipe of his tongue was a claim, a flag planted marking her as his.
It was intoxicating and terrifying. She kissed him back with the same expectation. The same demand. She heard him growl low in his throat has he surrendered to her. She staked her claim with her mouth, her lips, and tongue as her hands roamed his perfect body.
But what was she doing? This couldn't happen. Michail was an addiction, a habit she needed to break. Hot sex was nice, but it would never be enough, and he didn't have more to give. He had been very clear about that. Finley had made a decision. No more waffling, no more desperate nights of longing. The Michail obsession was over. She grasped his hands and pulled them away from her body.
"Stop, please." Finley whispered against him.
Michail immediately dropped his hands and stepped back from her. Confusion evident on his beautiful face. Concern in his eyes.
"Krasotka, did I hurt you?"
No Finley thought. Not physically, but what she was about to do was going to rip her heart out. She had a fleeting thought that she might never recover, but she pushed it aside. This was the right thing.
Finley shook her head no.
"Then what is it, beautiful girl? Tell me what's wrong." His eyes implored her.
"I'm sorry Michail. We can't do this. We can't do any of this."
He was studying her. "Why not?"
She just stared at him. What was there to say really. He was an addiction; he was like a decadent dessert. No one could live on just dessert. It wasn't good for you. Everyone knew that.
His brows furrowed. "Was my text not clear?"
Michail ran his hand through his hair. "Of course, it wasn't clear." It seemed he was talking more to himself than to her. "I should have talked to you, told you. I'm sorry."
His eyes locked with hers. "There are still limitations, but I am offering you more than just tonight."
Finley was shaking her head. She would have backed away from him further, but the bar was to her back. She could feel the sharp edge digging into her. She pushed back harder enjoying the sharp bite. Reminding herself, grounding herself. They couldn't do this.
"We can't." She said simply.
"Tell me why?" His voice was soft, almost pleading.
"We'll tear each other apart until there is nothing left. I could destroy you. Someone could use me against you." Finley felt tears start to gather. She hated that weakness.
"Oh krasotka, I would much rather be with you and be destroyed a thousand times over, than not be with you. To keep pretending, to only be half living. Everything reminds me of you when I'm not with you. When I am, everything is so much better, so much brighter. I spent a year telling myself it wasn't real. Trying to convince myself. It didn't work."
Finley didn't say anything, because she couldn't speak. She was pretty sure her heart had stopped and time was standing still.
Michail blew out a frustrated breath. "Tell me you don't love me. Tell me that, and I will leave. I will respect your wishes. You can walk out of here right now and never look back, but you have to look me in the eye and tell me you don't love me."
Finley looked away. She couldn't tell him that, because it wasn't true.
"Then get over here and kiss me dammit. Kiss me like you love me, because Finley I know you do." His voice came out in a harsh growl.
There was no way to deny that Michail was right. She did love him. As crazy as it was, she'd never been quite so sure of anything in her life.
She took a tentative step forward, and then another.
He gripped her hair and tilted head back, holding her in place. His beautiful eyes blazing with fire. He dipped his head down and sealed his lips over hers. The kiss started out as soft and sweet, but within seconds he was devouring her mouth. The pent-up frustration and need evident.
As his mouth, plundered and explored, he rocked his body against hers, like he couldn't quite get close enough. She felt his hand slide down and cup her ass, pulling her against him. His hand went under her thigh pulling her leg up as he pressed into her core.
A whimper escaped her mouth and Finley laced her fingers into his hair. It was thick and soft, and she used it to guide his mouth downward. Kissing was great, but she wanted his mouth, his hands all over her. The need burning through her was unlike anything she'd ever experienced.
Michail trailed slow, gentle kisses from her chin, down her neck, stopping at the hollow of her throat. Nipping and kissing. His tongue tracing its way back up towards her mouth. She gasped and ground against him harder.
Michail flicked the buttons on her blouse open and pulled her camisole and bra down in one swift movement, exposing her breasts. Finley sucked in a sharp breath when she felt the cool air hit her sensitive nipples. She saw his eyes darken with desire. The intensity of his gaze caused her to shiver and squirm against him.
The man was seriously going to kill her. She wasn't sure she could take too much more of this exquisite torture, before she started begging. When he leaned down and flicked his tongue over her nipple, a needy moan escaped her lips. He used his tongue to make tantalizingly lazy circles around it without touching her where she desperately needed him, she cried out for more. He gave her a wicked grin and then sucked her nipple into his mouth, hard. Her back arched involuntarily and heat flooded between her thighs.
She started shamelessly grinding against him as he sucked harder, every sensation pulsing through her.
Finley felt his hands pull up her skirt. The trail his hands made felt like fire burning her skin. She could feel the slight roughness of his fingers as he slid her skirt up her legs until it was bunched around her waist. Finley's hands were splayed across his chest. The hard muscles rippled as he moved. His heart hammering in his chest.
With one swift yank, she heard a snap and felt her panties give way. She let out a little startled yelp. Michail grasped her backside and pulled her closer, grinding up against her, his hands leaving an imprint on her flesh. She could feel the delicious pressure starting to build and she whimpered and moaned, but he stilled against her, not giving her what she needed. Just a little more, and she could ease the tension coiling through her. A sound of protest spilled from her throat.
After that coherent thought left her brain. His fingers traced the contours of her exposed flesh. He was taking his time, exploring her. Memorizing every inch of her. She felt a full body shudder when he threaded two fingers into her inch by glorious inch. Then he set about doing things to her with his wicked fingers that made her pant with need. Her desire coating his hand and her thighs as she closed her eyes and arched back. Feeling every little sensation as it pulsed through her body, growing stronger and more insistent.
Her knees almost buckled when he used his palm to apply pressure in just the right place. She ground and bucked against his hand, and within seconds her entire body was trembling, and her moan turned into a sharp cry as pleasure swamped her. He continued to stroke her until the last little tremor subsided.
He held her for a minute, pressing soft kisses on her chest and neck. As her vision returned and her heart rate slowed, she felt him turn her around and face the bar. He placed both of her hands on the bar, giving them a little squeeze. An instruction to keep them there. When she heard the unmistakable sound of his zipper, her eyes locked with his in the mirror over the bar, and anticipation hummed through her.
He gave her a wickedly sensual smile, and her heart began to race again. He used his foot to gently urge her legs wider. She felt a blush go up her neck and stain her cheeks, as he pushed them wider, and then wider still. His hands gripping her hips.
She could feel the hard length of him sliding against her. He continued to glide back and forth, teasing her, testing her. She was aching and clenching, desperate for him. She tried to push back on him, but his hands held her firm, anchoring her in place. Back and forth, gently rubbing against her, his eyes remained locked with hers in the mirror. The intimacy of the moment stole her breath. She felt another gush of desire, and watched a satisfied smile spread across his lips. Still, he rocked and rubbed against her in a sensual dance. She was struck that they were both fully clothed except for their most intimate parts, making it seem all the more carnal and forbidden.
One of his hands threaded around her body and palmed her breast, gently massaging and squeezing. The sudden sharp tug on her nipple was such a contradiction it elicited a gasp from her. He rolled her nipple between his thumb and forefinger applying pressure that just bordered on pain. Her response was another pool of need at her core. God, she thought if this man didn't take her soon, she was going to faint. The aching emptiness, the fluttering was too much to bear.
She could feel him stroking and gliding against her. Every sensation pulsing through her body. He took his hand and wrapped it around the column of her throat. She could see the desire on his face, the predatory gleam in his eyes. She felt a shudder of anticipation go through her. The gliding stopped and with one sharp thrust he was inside of her. She couldn't help but scream at the suddenness, the overwhelming sensation of him giving her exactly what she wanted. Exactly what she craved. He was suddenly, impossibly deep, and she was impossibly full. The empty ache replaced with a building desire. Michail moved his body as he had his lips, demanding and expecting everything from her, and she willingly gave it. His eyes never left her face, as he began a perfect and punishing pace.
She felt his hand slide between her legs again, as he began those deliciously perfect circles. She could feel the tension in his body building along with her own, snaking and coiling through her.
"Come Finley." It was a command that her body was eager to obey. Pleasure flooded through her, as she tumbled over the edge with a sharp cry. Michail coaxed every last wave from her. A few more hard thrusts and she felt his release as he poured himself deep inside of her.
He leaned forward wrapping his arms around her. She could feel the pounding of his heart. Feel the last twitches and aftershocks as they rocked his body.
"You must promise to be patient with me krasotka. I'm sure there will be many mistakes." Michail gave her a little squeeze. "I've never had a relationship."
"Never?" Finley's addled brain could barely register the words. Michail had never been in a relationship before. She guessed that shouldn't surprise her too much, his life didn't really lend itself to commitment.
"Never." He confirmed.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, it registered that Michail thought they were in a relationship. She thought about it a minute. Sat with it. There was no panic. No unease, just warmth. Finley knew there was a lot they needed to work out. Boundaries that they needed to set. But right here in this moment, she couldn't think of anywhere else she'd rather be. She felt entirely at ease with the idea of a relationship.
Michail stood up and eased back. She felt the flood of wetness on her thighs and grimaced a little. She figured that was something they should probably talk about. That was one of the many checkpoints they had blown right through tonight.
She felt him ease her skirt down. "I really like it when you wear a skirt."
When she turned to face him, he was giving her a wicked grin. She couldn't help but smile back. Finley had never been much of a fan of skirts or dresses, but she was starting to see the appeal. Michail grasp her face in his hands, and gave her a soft, almost reverent kiss.
"There is a washroom through that door in the corner, if you want." He smiled at her. She could feel the flush of heat go up her neck and tinge her cheeks pink. It was silly to be embarrassed, but she couldn't help it. It felt just a little too intimate. He kissed her nose and then stepped back.
Finley went to the washroom and closed the door. She leaned up against it and closed her eyes. What are you doing? She asked herself. Finley didn't do relationships. Did she? She took a couple of deep breaths and waited for the panic to set in. Nothing. Zero, zip, nada. No racing heart, no pounding pulse, no piercing pain behind her eyeball. Nothing.
She frowned. OK, so maybe she could do this. She shook her head. No, this was stupid. She was going to march right out there and tell him that. This just wasn't possible for a lot of reasons.
Finley took a couple of minutes to clean up and do the best she could to smooth her clothes and her hair, so she didn't look quite so much like she'd just had a couple of screaming orgasms up against the bar. She couldn't do anything about the flushed skin, bright eyes, or swollen lips, but she could at least straighten her clothes.
She took a deep breath and steeled her spine. She needed to nip this in the bud. Stop this crazy insanity, before they both got hurt. It was a romantic thought, but everyone knew romance was just an illusion. It lasted about as long as it took for reality to set in, and that was never long. She opened the door and stepped out. Michail was just finishing up a phone call. She could have sworn she heard Nikko's name.
Michail gave her a smile, and finished up the call. Finley's brows were knitted together.
"Did you say Nikko?" She was surprised her voice came out clear and strong.
"Yes." Michail nodded.
"Why?" Finley elongated the word.
Michail was smiling at her. "I needed to tell Nikko you were here, that I had you. Had responsibility for your security."
Finley's eyebrows went up. "You're coordinating with Nikko on my security. Since when?" Suspicion tinged her voice.
"Since today. We came to…. let's just say an understanding." The corner of Michail's lip twitched up.
Finley looked at Michail and noticed he had a slight bruising on his cheekbone and around his eye.
"Nikko hit you?" She knew her voice sounded as incredulous as she felt.
"He did." Michail shrugged. "I deserved it."
"Why?" She couldn't quite keep the horror out of her voice.
"Because I took you the other night, and ditched your security. I shouldn't have done that. There was no way for Nikko to know who had you. He had a point, so we worked it out." Michail just shrugged like it was the most self-evident of truths.
"Just like that?" Finley was clearly skeptical.
"Yes, it is a simple matter krasotka. Nikko and I are not enemies, and we both care for you."
"And Declan." Finley cringed a little at her blunt question, but it didn't seem to offend Michail.
"I don't want Declan as an enemy either. I know things are complicated, but he's a businessman. Going to war serves no one."
Finley really hoped that was true. But what was she thinking? She was acting like she was going along with this insane plan to have a relationship, well she wasn't. Finley didn't do relationships, and she sure didn't do them on other people's terms. Michail had been clear, there were still limitations. Her damn near insatiable desire had overtaken her better judgement, but now her brain was back in control. Her traitorous body was no longer running the show.
"Look Michail, I appreciate all of that, but this isn't going to work. I don't want to be some side piece you see when the urge strikes, and I'm not sure I even want a relationship, but if I did, it wouldn't be one like that."
Finley knew that was an incredibly unfair thing to say to him. He'd put it all out there for her, but she wasn't stupid. When it came to men, the word limitations usually meant on their terms. They'd throw you a few scraps here and there and you just needed to be happy with it. Shut up and put out. That was your job. She'd seen that dynamic far too often in her youth.
To his credit Michail didn't react. The only indication that he was angry was the ticking of the muscle in his jaw.
"That's not what I had in mind, but why don't you tell me what your terms are." Michail's voice was steady and calm. Finley kind of wanted to just scream at him.
"This isn't a negotiation Michail." She snapped.
"That's where you are wrong Finley, that is exactly what this is, because I want you to have everything you need. I may not be able to give you everything you want, but I want you to be happy. I want this to work. So, tell me your terms." Michail was using that same rational voice, like he was reasoning with a slightly insane person. Of course, in his defense, that might have some truth to it.
She narrowed her eyes at him. He just looked at her and waited. He gestured to the chair for her to have a seat. She told herself if her feet weren't killing her from those stupid high heels, she would have refused. Instead, she sat down, and Michail sat opposite of her.
He poured a Perrier in a glass and offered it to her. She took it. The bubbles fizzed and popped on her tongue. Michail just waited. She could see why he was so successful in business. He'd definitely mastered the art of silence.
Finley blew out a breath. She couldn't believe she was actually having this conversation, but she was. "I'd want to see you pretty regularly. A couple of nights a week when you were in town. Nothing too public of course."
"Done."
OK, that had been a surprise.
Michail continued. "With the understanding that we would be working towards more. Lots more. Something, more permanent. Living together at least." Michail gestured with his hand.
That demand surprised Finley a little. Michail wanted more time with her, not less. She thought a couple of nights a week had been pushing it. Michail was already talking about wanting her to move in. He wanted them to go public. Her mind was reeling a little from it all. He'd clearly given some thought to what he wanted. What a relationship might look like between them. Michail didn't want her to just be his dirty little secret. A little thrill coursed through her, but she forced herself to remain impassive.
Finley shrugged. "In time, but nothing too fast. I need to get through school and you need to make sure there is stability within your organization."
As much as she might want to be zero to sixty with him, they needed to be practical about this. They needed to be cautious. Finley didn't entirely trust that they wouldn't just burn hot and flame out. Really what did they actually know about each other.
"Agreed." Michail conceded.
"I'd also want the time we spend together to be as normal as possible. The suite at the Ritz was awesome, but sometimes I want us to just hang out at my apartment and watch a movie."
She saw Michail consider that for a moment. "With some security, I can agree to that."
Her eyebrows went up.
"What else?" He asked.
"I don't want a security detail."
Finley saw his nostrils flare. That had hit a nerve.
"Krasotka, you have to have security." He thought for a moment. "How about we double what you have now, but they continue to stay at a distance." Michail offered.
"You have security on me now?" Finley squeaked.
"Yes, of course." Michail was looking at her like she had two heads.
Was anyone not following her? Maybe that was the real question she ought to be asking.
"OK, we can try that." She hedged.
Apparently, he'd had security on her for a while, and it hadn't created any issues. If it remained covert, she could deal with that. She certainly understood it was for the protection of them both. Keeping her safe, kept him safe.
"Is that it?" He enquired.
Finley shook her head. She knew this next one was probably going to be a sticking point.
"No, the most important thing, you have to promise me that you would never trade your life for mine. If I get taken, you have to promise."
Michail was shaking his head. "No, Finley that's not going to work. I'll do everything to keep you out of harm's way so we never have to face that decision, but if someone takes you, and a choice has to be made. I would always trade my life for yours. I would do anything to keep you safe and get you back. You have to understand that isn't up for negotiation."
"That's a dealbreaker for me Michail. I won't let you trade your life for me. That moment with Ivan still haunts me. I still see it when I close my eyes. I don't want to be your Achilles heel that can be exploited." Finley's voice was adamant.
"I am sorry krasotka, I cannot agree to that."
Finley shrugged. "Then I guess we are done." Because Finley couldn't agree to the alternative. It was clear they had reached a stalemate.
Michail nodded. "Yes."
Finley sat in stunned silence for a beat. He had a grim set to his mouth. It was clear Michail wasn't going to bend, well she wasn't either. Not on this. She couldn't.
He reached inside his jacket and pulled out an envelope and held it out to her.
Her eyes cut to it and then back to him. "What's that?"
"My medical report. I don't want you to be worried about tonight." Michail just shrugged. The shutter was down. Clearly, she was being dismissed. A clean break so to speak. She guessed she should be grateful for that. At least one of them had enough sense to be responsible. Her heart clenched a little. It was clear, Michail had been all in. She waived her hand dismissively. She didn't need to see it to know what was in it, but she took it anyway.
Finley slowly stood up. Her legs felt a little weak, and she felt a knot in the pit of her stomach. A dull ache was throbbing in her chest, she guessed that is what it felt like when your heart broke. Michail was just watching her, his expression unreadable.
"I'm sorry Michail. I don't want to be the thing that destroys you."
Michail just inclined his head. She could see the muscle in his jaw ticking and the anger flashing in his eyes.
Finley walked to the door. Back straight, head held high. Tears threatening to spill over. Michail said nothing and made no move to stop her.
Her heart was breaking, but she couldn't be his greatest weakness. She couldn't be the thing that got him killed.
She stopped and turned to look at him. "You should know, I do love you." With that she opened the door and walked out, leaving a little piece of her soul.
Nikko was right. Some things were not meant to be.