Page 28 of Only For Your Touch
“Can we talk?” He dipped a head toward the door where her family watched them. “Privately,” he added.
After a brief hesitation, she murmured a yes, then continued walking down the corridor until she spotted a corner that offered relative privacy. His big body formed a wall between her and others who might walk by.
“What are you doing here?” she blurted, unable to contain the question or her curiosity any longer. God, if only just looking at him—his beautiful, kind of eerie eyes, his sculpted face, that full, sensual mouth—didn’t hurt so damn much.
“I saw on the news that your father’s bail hearing was set for today, so I came here on the chance you would be, too,” he explained.
And that clarified exactly nothing.
She sighed, leaning against the wall at her back. “Sasha, last time we saw each other, you were telling me how I was a threat to you and your friends’ existence, so forgive me if I don’t understand what my being here has to do with you showing up.”
“I said you were a liability. And I was right. You are.”
A blast of pain scored her. The. Hell. She forced a grim smile to her face. “Lovely. Got it.” She shifted to the side, intent on getting away from him before she gave the press something else to report.
“No. Damn it,” he growled, blocking her way. “Wait. Please. I know I’m fucking this up.”
His thick lashes lowered, hiding his eyes, and his jaw clenched, a tiny muscle jumping along the strong line. Though the business of the courthouse went on around them, in their corner, in the space created by his body and the wall, silence reigned. Thundered.
Finally, he opened his eyes again, and she stifled a gasp. Heat, such heat, flared in his stare, and her first reaction was to go near it, feel its flames on her skin, which had been so cold since Sunday night. But, as she moved forward, she stopped herself. She didn’t trust that fire. The fact was, she’d been scorched by it. And it hadhurt. Even now, when she thought about how he’d tossed her aside, she wanted to curl up in a ball and disappear.
So, no. Desire, lust, need, whatever, hadn’t kept him from rejecting her. What she glimpsed in his face meant nothing.Nothing.
“Please. I know you don’t owe me anything. But, please, just listen. And afterward, if you want me to walk away from you, leave you alone, I will.” He waited, and reluctantly, she nodded, crossing her arms over her chest. “I told you about coming to America when I was a kid. When we lived in Russia, it was just my parents and myself. Both of their parents were gone, and we didn’t have a large extended family. We were close, because we were all each other had. And after we emigrated, they were still all I had. Those first couple of years were rough. The kids at school hadn’t taken too kindly to the new foreigner who could barely form a sentence in English. My parents, our home, had been my refuge, where I belonged. Where I was accepted and loved.”
His voice trailed off, and he paused for a long, heavy moment.
“After they kicked me out, I was dead to them. Even though most of what I did could be filed under petty things kids did, they cut me off as if I didn’t exist. I never told Killian or Rion, but one afternoon when I was seventeen, I bumped into my father in one of the corner stores. He didn’t lookatme; he lookedthroughme. Like I was a rack with potato chips on it. In that moment, something in me died because it truly hit me—I was no longer a man’s son. Until then I’d believed they would get over being angry, that we would be reunited. But that day I had to accept that the foundation I’d always believed would be there for me was gone. Even years later, when my mother came to see me in the hospital, I knew we wouldn’t speak again. She would never go against my father.”
“That was their loss,” Corrine rasped, furious for him even though she’d vowed not to be moved by whatever he said. But that resolve evaporated under her anger on his behalf. “Children rebel or disappoint parents all the time. But parenthood isn’t about loving your kidsifthey’re good. Orifthey obey you. It’s unconditional. They threw you out before giving you a chance to turn yourself around. Most parents would havetriedto understand and support their son instead of going scorched earth. They failed you, not the other way around. And your father is still missing out on a man he could be proud of if he didn’t have so damn much of that pride,” she hissed.
Sasha blinked. The corner of his mouth twitched before it straightened.
“Thank you,lisichka,” he murmured, brushing the back of his finger over her cheek. The small caress sent sparks from the spot on her face to her breasts, her belly, her sex. She leaned back, away from his touch. That dangerous touch that would have her begging if she wasn’t careful. He caught her action and dropped his hand. “Anyway, maybe that’s why I threw myself into the street life. To fill a part of me that was missing. A part of me I didn’t want to acknowledge was empty. The part that is so scared of not being enough. Of being left again. Of being lost.”
“Sasha,” she breathed. Why was he doing this to her? Why was he breaking a heart she’d sworn he’d never have access to again?
“I wasn’t expecting you,” he said, almost as if to himself. “You entered my life, and I was blindsided. And terrified—you terrified the hell out of me. You still do. Because I finally want something for my own again. In you I see the possibility of another foundation, another haven. And the thought of hoping for it, reaching for it, only to lose it, had me running and pushing you away before you realized this ex-thief-turned-sex-club owner wasn’t worthy of you.” He lifted a hand to her face again and, after a hesitation, cupped her cheek. Brushed the pad of his thumb over her cheekbone. “Baby, I showed up here today to beg you to forgive me for rejecting you, for turning away from you out of fear and a warped sense of self-preservation. I hurt you, and though I don’t deserve it, I’m asking you to give me a chance to protect you, stand next to you, fight for you.”
Tears burned her eyes, and she shut them, shaking her head. Hope filled and seared her. Sunday night, even Monday night, she would’ve loved to hear these words from him. But right now, after days of silence, after experiencing the clawing pain of not seeing him, not talking to him, touching him… “I don’t know if I can…” She tightened her arms around herself. “What happens if you decide I’m not worth the risk? I don’t want to feel this again. You fuckinghurtme.”
“I know I did, baby.” A moan rumbled between them as his other hand lifted and cradled her face. “I have no right to ask you to take a chance. I’ve already been an epic failure in that department. But Ineedyou,lisichka. Punish me, hit me, yell at me, make me pay. But please, don’t walk away from me again. I don’t know if I can let you go. I won’t let you go. I’ll follow.” His pleading transformed into a fiercely uttered vow. “Let me prove to you that you can give me your trust. Your heart. Let me be Ragnar for you,” he whispered.
“Ragnar isn’t Russian,” she breathed.
“For you, he can be,” he promised.
Damn. She felt the moment her heart waved bye-bye and flew into his keeping. She was leaping. God help her, she was leaping out on faith, on trust…on love. Because that emotion she’d refused to label had a big red one slapped across it now. Love. For a man who had turned her world inside out, reshaped it, shattered it, then fused it back together again.
The weight that had been bearing down on her chest for the past four days disappeared, leaving behind a joy that cleansed her. Buoyed her. Strengthened her.
“I guess I should go ahead and give in since my father already knows about you,” she said.
He didn’t back away, didn’t flinch at the mention of Carmine Salvaggi. If possible, she fell even a little more in love with him.
“Yeah?” he asked, shifting closer to her, his thighs bracketing hers.
“Yes. I saw him yesterday to ask him to make you and the club off-limits to the family. He didn’t go into it, but he’s probably wondering why I would go to bat for a man I’ve never introduced him to.” She smiled. “Be prepared for a phone call.”
