Page 23 of Echoes of Sin

She snorted out a laugh. “Believe it or not, I have managed to walk around Winter Valley just fine without you for eight years. I’m confident I can go another eight.”

“What can I do, Brooke?” I stopped in front of her and gripped her shoulders. “What can I do to get you to talk to me without it turning into an argument?”

“I have to talk to you, Ilya, and I manage it each Friday without any trouble. What you really want is for me to be that swooning girl I used to be. She had a wakeup call eight years ago.”

I shrugged. “No one ever looked at me the way you did. Not before and not since. It was as if you saw me, without all the…” I shrugged, I couldn’t really say without all the trappings of being a made man in the bratva and the son of a notorious pakhan.

“I’m sure you do just fine with the ladies.” She glared at me and stepped around me, marching down the street, not letting me finish my sentence.

“It’s not the same,” I replied when I caught up with her. “Even back at WVU, the girls wanted me because my parents were rich. They didn’t want to get to know me, not the way you did.”

“Turns out I didn’t know you at all.”

“That’s not true,” I growled. “The only person who knows me better than you is Dmitri.”

She stopped, her spine straight and her hands balled into fists as anger fairly vibrated throughout her body. “Stop saying that!” She pushed my chest. “It’s not true. I didn’t know you at all. The person I knew, the one I thought I was falling for? He would have called. Even if it was a month or two later, he would have called and told me he wasn’t coming back. If he couldn’t call, he’d have written a damn letter. He wouldn’t have just taken my virginity, made me feel special for the first time in my life, and then, whoosh, vanished without a trace.”

“Brooke.” I reached for her, but she pushed me away.

“No, Ilya. I can’t do this with you, it’s too painful.” She swiped at an angry tear and wrapped her arms around her waist. “I’m sorry, but I just…can’t.”

I pulled her close, and I held her while she cried against my shoulder. “You’re right, Brooke. I’m sorry I didn’t call. I didn’t know what to say and I was too consumed with grief to give it much thought.” It was the truth.

“I’m sorry about your father. I know how close you were.” She sniffed and stepped back. “But we should keep things professional.” And just like that, she tugged the emotionless mask over her face and pinched her lips into a flat line.

“We both know that’s not possible, Brooke.” I kissed her, so deep and hungry, that I thought we would both combust from the heat that swirled between us.

She kissed me back. Despite her anger and her hurt, she kissed me back and moaned and her fingers tangled in my hair, the pinch of pain mixed with arousal shooting straight to my cock.

Knowing she still wanted me should’ve been enough. It should have, but for a greedy bastard like me, it wasn’t. I pulled her closer so she could feel the effect she had on me, and the moan I swallowed at the contact made my cock swell even thicker.

With a sharp gasp, Brooke pulled back and stared at me with wide, shocked eyes, as if she couldn’t believe the intensity either. “That should not have happened.”

My lips tugged into a lopsided smile. “It would be more believable if you didn’t say those words through lips swollen from my kisses.”

She rolled her eyes. “It doesn’t matter. My body isn’t in control anymore, my brain is, and I can’t let you hurt me again, Ilya. I won’t.” She gave me one last look as she shook her head, regret and sorrow written all over her beautiful face.

And then she walked away.

It was a fine sight, watching the swing of her hips as she walked away, but I cleared the fog of lust just enough to follow her home—at a safe distance—just to make sure she made it safely.

And to make sure there was no man waiting for her. I watched for a few minutes as lights came on throughout the small house. I spent too many minutes torturing myself with questions that wouldn’t have any answers soon, so I headed back to the bar where Dmitri and Lara seemed to be getting along well without me.

I left them to their evening and made my way back home. Alone. My mind was full of Brooke, not the girl who got away, but the one I tossed away before I realized what I truly had.

Chapter Fourteen

Brooke

It felt as if my entire life was made up of Fridays, probably because Ilya was such a big part of my work life. And he would be for the foreseeable future. His accounts were my only accounts, so for forty hours each week, I lived and breathed his businesses, and then for an hour or two on Fridays, I had to see him, be close to him and smell that expensive, masculine scent that stayed with me for far too long.

I shook off those feelings before Ilya arrived at the restaurant and mentally replayed what I needed to tell him.

“Brooke,” he said as he breezed in and took the seat across from me. “Looking lovely as usual.”

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at his compliment. “Ilya,” was the only reply I had for him because, of course, he looked like he’d just stepped off the cover of a magazine.

He sat and looked at the menu, but I could tell he wasn’t really reading it, which confirmed my belief that he’d been here before. “What looks good, Brooke?”

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