Page 50 of Beautiful Devil

He lifted his glass, giving me a mischievous look. “You are very good at this, but first, you will answer my question.”

“It’s personal and you have no right asking me.”

There was such a quiet moment shared between us that I took a deep breath, the visions of the horrible surgery slamming against the fear I’d experienced earlier.

“Trust me, Emily. Do you think you can do that?”

Was he kidding me? Trust him? He was the last person on Earth I should trust.

But strangely enough, I did.

I closed my eyes, taking more than a single sip of champagne. “I was operating on a little girl who’d been hit by a car, a drunk driver. I thought I could save her, but I couldn’t, her internal injuries too significant. She was so precious, her little eyes imploring me just before I put her under for surgery. She cried out to her mommy, begging for her teddy bear. She was only four years old.” A single tear slipped down my cheek and there was no way I could stop it in time. I was shocked that after a few years, the pain was as raw as the night I’d lost her.

What the hell did Kostya care? He had no love for anyone.

I dragged my tongue across my lips when he remained quiet, fisting my hand when a second tear began to fall. When he slid his finger across both salty beads, I tipped my head in his direction. He slipped his tearstained finger into his mouth, but it wasn’t a sexual gesture, only one of some strange solidarity, as if every pain I felt he did as well. I was so caught in the moment that I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.

“Now, you need to trust me,” I blurted out, as always, anticipating he’d recoil into his sullen, barren world.

He kept his eyes locked on mine, never blinking as he answered my question. “I was born and abandoned in Russia at an orphanage, forced to live on the streets for most of my life. As you already guessed, my choices were ones that no one would want to make, but I was determined to make something out of myself and my life. Unfortunately, I chose a profession that doesn’t allow escape.”

There was a flash of pain in his eyes, but he quickly masked it. Abandoned. No wonder he had attachment issues. “I’m so sorry. No one should have to experience something so tragic.”

He chuckled a second time, the sound darker, full of emotion when he wasn’t. “Please do not make the mistake of thinking that I lament for a life I didn’t know or miss parents who obviously didn’t give a shit about me. That’s not the case.”

“No remorse. No regret. What a way to live your life.”

As he stared down at me, I kicked my feet in the water, refusing to give him what he was looking for—an excuse for being the way he was.

“You wanted that look into my life and I’m giving you that gift. I suggest you take it as one, and not read into how or why.” He powered down the remainder of his bubbly, immediately getting up and heading toward the bar.

I was frustrating the hell out of him, but he could get used to it. At this point, I couldn’t tell if he wanted me to get any closer to him or was ultimately trying to push me away with his hatred and horror show. “You’re right, Kostya. I asked to learn more about you and I’m going to keep asking. Why do you have an animal sanctuary on your property? That makes no sense to me.”

“To be as honest with you as I can, I don’t know other than I was told about a man who owned Aziza and two tigers only a few miles away. His methods of abuse were appalling. I couldn’t allow the atrocities to continue.”

He was a walking, talking contradiction of good versus evil, right versus wrong. “You can easily care about animals because they won’t abandon you.”

I didn’t need to see the dark expression in his eyes or to be any closer to feel the extreme heat his body exuded. He did not like anyone psychoanalyzing him.

“How very astute of you, Dr. Shephard. Perhaps you are correct to a point. However, the real reason is likely that animals generally mean no harm to anyone, people or otherwise while humans have an innate need to be evil. There is no other kind of torture that can be inflicted like that of mankind.”

I sucked in my breath as I looked at him, trying to decipher words that would likely spin in my mind for days. Did he hear himself? Maybe he was so completely immune to death and blood that killing was simple for him. Easy. Just a necessity in his shady world of business. That made him truly a cold-blooded killer with zero conscience.

Why had I been able to break through his shell? Why did he seem to care about me?

They were answers that I would be hard pressed to discover. I moved from the water, purposely walking away from him. The champagne felt leaden in my stomach, but it was possible that anything I ate or drank would be impossible to digest.

Kostya had such a presence about him that when he moved to within a few feet of me, I was overwhelmed by his magnetic pull, the intensity of spiraling emotions and needs far exceeding the jolt of electricity I’d experienced the night in the diner. Whatever sick and twisted relationship we shared had surpassed all rationality, all sense of normalcy. We were moths to a flame, lions waiting to be slaughtered. The thought was never far removed from my mind.

Something or someone would eventually tear us apart.

And I wasn’t certain I could survive the aftermath.

“My life is dangerous, Emily. I never tried to hide that fact from you. Have I done things that I wished I could have handled differently? In truth, no. The reason why is simple. In doing so, I would second guess my natural reactions the next time, which could lead to mistakes and eventually death. My transactions are business related and nothing else. If that makes me heartless in your mind, I wish I could apologize but I can’t. No, I won’t.”

“Why do you want me?”

His exhale was exaggerated, ragged, and it kept me teetering close to the edge. Was I still dreaming about a fantasy that would never come true, that he was ultimately some knight in shining armor? If so, I was not only fooling myself, I was also leading my heart to a position of being crushed permanently.

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