"No, of course it didn't."
"Marina was brilliant, as is Theodotus. Their daughter inherited their intelligence. It's well documented. Marina was proud of you and she sent your accomplishments to your father. What mother wouldn't? He has pictures of you from every year of your life as well as various letters from universities anxious for you to attend their school."
"Don't you dare accuse my mother of betraying her country." Now the storm clouds swirled turbulently. "She would never take money from anyone. She wasn't like that, and you'll never, not in a million years get me to believe she did. She wasn't a traitor. There was never any money."
"She was a citizen of Russia, not the United States. Her loyalty was to Russia. You're right, Airiana, there was never any money in exchange for information. She sent your work to your father for love. Loving you. Loving him. For pride. Her pride in you. She wanted him to feel that same pride. She didn't believe she was doing anything wrong. She was a mother who loved her daughter and her daughter's father. That same father who sent me to protect you from Evan Shackler-Gratsos."
She closed her eyes, but not before he saw the blow he'd struck her. She had been convinced Marina had never sent her work to Russia. If he was telling the truth, then Marina had betrayed the United States.
"So who murdered her?" Airiana asked again in a low voice.
5
THERE was a long silence. Maxim sank down onto the bed beside Airiana. He reached out and covered her nervous fingers with his palm, unable to stop himself. He knew each time his skin touched hers, he was going down a path there might not be recovery from, but he couldn't stand the way she seemed so alone and frightened. He was systematically destroying her world.
Airiana didn't pull her hand away. Instead, she lifted her long, spiked, tear-wet lashes. "I'm crying again."
"I know. I'm not happy about it either."
"Neither am I," she admitted. "I can't seem to stop."
He slid across the bed, his back to the wall and drew up his knees as well. He kept close, his shoulder and thigh tight against hers. "That's all right. This one time I'll let it go."
"Thanks." She turned her face toward him and rested her head on her knees. "Is Theodotus really my father?"
"I have proof."
"I happen to know what family you come from, although I know I'm not supposed to know, and I'm certain you can manufacture proof of anything you want."
"That's true. I can. But I didn't. You're really his daughter. And you really are in danger. I give you my word, once you speak with him, I'll take you back to your home if you really want to go back." That was a promise he would probably regret making, but he'd keep it.
"When are we getting out of here?"
"We'll leave the ship around three in the morning." He felt the small shudder that ran through her body and resisted the urge to put his arm around her. The less physical contact he had with her the better.
"Don't sharks feed at night?"
"You really do have a thing about swimming, don't you?" He kept his voice gentle. She was holding on by a thread. The tears still streamed down her face, but she was weeping quietly.
"Yes. I know it's weird when I live on the coast, and I actually love the sea, but I don't even put my feet in it."
He sighed. "Baby, if you don't stop crying, I'm going to have to hold you. That could be bad for both of us."
She kept looking at him with her eyes that reminded him of the sky at night during a summer rain.
"All right then." He surrendered to the inevitable. "I'm not going to be responsible for anything strange that happens between us." He simply picked her up. She didn't weigh much and it was easy enough to pull her onto his lap. She fit nicely into the shelter of his chest.
Airiana's head rested against his chest, right over his heart. He was fairly certain his heart was pounding hard enough for her to hear. How the hell did a woman so small, and weepy at that, affect him the way she did? He'd shut off his emotions far too many years earlier. There was no other way to survive in his business.
"Go to sleep. At least rest. I'll hear if anyone tries to come into the cabin," he advised, one hand going to the nape of her neck, his fingers massaging the tight muscles.
"You think someone will, don't you?" Her lashes fluttered, dropped down, and some of the tension eased out of her under the soothing pressure.
"Prince Saeed doesn't like to be told no. I suspect no one has ever done it before and lived. He'll send his bodyguards." He didn't bother to keep the satisfaction out of his voice.
"You want him to send them."
"He won't have brought very many aboard ship. When you're killing children, I don't care how much money you have, you don't advertise it much. He'll keep his guards to a minimum."
She lifted her head to look up at him. "You're going to kill him."
"Damn right I am." There was no apology in his voice. He didn't feel particularly apologetic. He'd missed the bastard twice. How many young women had suffered at the hands of a monster because he'd been unable to get the job done?
She was silent a moment. He held himself still, telling himself it didn't matter what she thought of him. She was a package to be delivered, nothing more. Her opinion of him didn't--couldn't--matter. His life, from the time he was a child, had been this--killing, serving his country, removing men like Saeed from the face of the earth. She couldn't possibly understand the filth and depravity he'd witnessed. The cruelty.
Maxim didn't want Airiana to ever know such things. It had been bad enough that she'd seen that young girl dead in Saeed's room while the prince had drooled over Airiana. Maxim had wanted to kill the monster right there in the passageway, even knowing his bodyguards were close. Had he actually laid his hands on Airiana, Maxim knew he wouldn't have been able to stop himself.
"How can I help?"
His fingers ceased giving that slow massage to her neck and shoulders. It was the last thing he expected her to say.
"Airiana, I'm going to kill him," he repeated.
"I'm scared, Maxim, not hard of hearing." There was resolution in her voice. "He tortured and killed that girl, and he's probably doing the same to another one right now. I sat here thinking that could have been me, or Lexi. It could be any child he takes a fancy to. I don't want to give him that chance, not ever again. Maybe it's wrong, but I don't care if it is. She was like a broken toy to him, nothing at all. He'd already dismissed her and was looking for the next one."
He allowed himself a breath. A deep inhale, taking her scent into his lungs, feeling it fill him, spread through his system, penetrating every cell in his body. He was making the effort to console her, and in some strange way, she was comforting him.
She'd found a way of getting inside of him. She'd slipped in when he wasn't prepared, breaching his every defense before he knew he even had chinks in his armor. He hadn't realized he was vulnerable. She actually made him feel naked, completely exposed. It was an unco
mfortable feeling and one he didn't like.
"Killing someone isn't easy, Airiana." His voice was gruff. Harsh, even.
"I can't imagine it would be, nor is it supposed to be."
She lifted her head to look him directly in the eyes and he felt the jerk of his heart in response. Her tears were gone. Her eyes were dark blue now, like a midnight sky. Steady. Soft. She turned him inside out with that look of complete understanding.
He damned well didn't need her understanding--or approval. Still, there was no getting away from her eyes. He'd lost his soul a long time ago, forgotten he even had one, but she found it there inside of him, the last little piece he'd thought long gone and she'd claimed it for her own. Somehow, those blue eyes in her perfect face looked right inside of him and found--Maxim Prakenskii.
"I'm going to kiss you."
She blinked. Frowned. "Why?"
"Because I need to, and the first time I was just being a bastard. I am, you know. A complete and utter bastard with no redeeming qualities."
She smiled a slow, beautiful smile that could steal a man's breath. "I think you have a few, Maxim. Don't sell yourself short. You're capable of ridding the world of a monster like the prince. I'd say that was a redeeming quality right there."
He framed her face with both hands and leaned down to take possession of her mouth. She should have pulled away from him. Didn't the woman have a single ounce of self-preservation? More to the point, didn't he?
Her lips were just as soft as he remembered. Angel lips. So perfect they couldn't be human. He wanted to feel something real. Just for a moment--for this small stolen instance of time they shared.
Kissing her was absolutely inexcusable and inappropriate. He was taking advantage of her vulnerability, but damn it all, once wasn't enough. He hadn't kissed her properly. Or nearly long enough. He had every intention of rectifying that situation.
His tongue traced the seam of her lips, demanding entrance, and she opened her mouth for him. His breath moved through her, through him as his tongue swept inside to taste her. To claim her. Or was she claiming him? He felt himself falling into her.
Her kiss swept him away, far away from his past. From himself. From the ugliness of his life. She took him to a place that he'd never even imagined or fantasized about. One touch. So tentative, her tongue tangling with his.