Make You Mine

by Jackie Ashenden

  Alex ran a hand through his hair, took a breath. Then he turned back to his computer and closed the Skype window. Honor vanished.

  If only making everything else disappear like that were as simple.

  * * *

  Katya sat at the roulette table on the Fourth Circle’s empty gaming floor and gazed around the place. There was something sad about it in the middle of the day. Something vaguely tragic. Like an older woman disguising herself with makeup, hiding the cracks of age under a layer of paint. Clinging on to her youth.

  One of the red velvet curtains over a nearby window had been pulled fractionally back, allowing the daylight to shine through. Dust motes hung in the air.

  The cold light of day was never kind and revealed all kinds of things. The stains on the floor. The tear in one of the curtains around a group of chairs. A long scratch down one of the tables.

  Without the music, the lights, and the people, without the night to hide all the flaws, it looked like what it was: a large, cold, empty room.

  She let out a silent breath, Alex stealing into her thoughts once again. This room was like him in many ways. A man who was doing everything he could to hide, to distract.

  The problem was the truth was still there underneath. And all the distracting in the world, all the pretty paint and lights and music, wouldn’t change that.

  She reached out and gave the roulette wheel a turn, watching as the red and black colors whirled. But no, she’d told herself after he’d left that morning that she wouldn’t think of him in that way. Remembering the sex was okay, but thinking about the man was not.

  Especially not with the game coming up tonight.

  Which was part of the reason she was sitting out here, waiting for him to come out of his office behind the bar where he’d been ensconced for most of the afternoon doing God knows what.

  She didn’t want to interrupt whatever it was he was doing, but she wanted to talk to him about the game.

  Ever since the morning, she’d been going over all the information she had about Conrad South and the other players Zac Rutherford had sent her. Digging up what she could about the white slave trade. Looking for anything that might link the names to any kind of trafficking rings.

  But there was nothing and it disturbed her. This whole situation had suddenly gotten a lot more dangerous and she hated going into a dangerous situation with very little information. She wanted to be prepared and that meant they needed a plan. Or rather, it meant she had to get Alex to let her in on whatever his plan was, since he obviously had one. One he still hadn’t told her about.

  Again a little sliver of hurt caught at her, a flash of disappointment.

  She ignored it. She’d let herself feel the night before, in the bar when he’d pinned her against the wall. When he’d told her the truth about why he’d left. Let the thrill of knowing she’d affected him settle down inside her, glorying in it.

  But that’s all she would allow. She couldn’t let herself get closer to him. Like she’d told herself that morning, the physical aspect of their relationship was fine–they were already pretending to be lovers anyway, so a little reality wouldn’t hurt–but anything more and things could get compromised.

  “Katya?”

  Pushing aside the thoughts, she looked up to see Alex shutting the door to his office and making his way over to where she sat.

  “Were you waiting for me?”

  “Yes.” She stilled the roulette wheel as he approached the table. “I’m sorry, I don’t want to interrupt anything.”

  “You’re not.” He was as impeccably dressed as he had been this morning except now his hair looked like he’d run his fingers through it one too many times. And there was a certain tension in his shoulders, a tightness around his mouth. “What’s up?”

  She frowned. “Perhaps I should be asking you that question?”

  “It’s nothing.” He pulled out one of the chairs next to her and sat down in his typical lazy sprawl. “I was talking to Zac and the others earlier, getting their thoughts on the Conrad situation.”

  “Are they going to contact the authorities?”

  His gaze flickered. He leaned forward and picked up the ball from the roulette wheel, rolling it through his fingers. “I’d prefer to wait until that girl we rescued is safe. She didn’t want us calling the police, remember?”

  She studied him silently a moment. “What is your plan, Alex?”

  “My plan?” The silver ball flashed through his fingers.

  “You told me you had one last night.”

  The ball stilled as he reached to give the roulette wheel a spin. “Oh, right. That plan.” He dropped the ball into the wheel, where it made clicking sounds as it raced around the inside of it. “Why do you want to know?”

  “Haven’t we had this conversation? I need to know in order to protect you properly. This situation is even more dangerous now and we can’t afford to take any chances. I don’t want to go into this game—”

  His hand shot out, stilling the wheel abruptly, the movement cutting her off. “You’re not going anywhere.”

  She stared at him. “What? Of course I’m going to be there. That’s what you hired me for. That’s what—”

  “No.” Alex lifted his gaze from the roulette wheel, his eyes blazing blue. “You’re not coming, Katya. You’re staying here.”

  There was nothing but certainty in his face, and all the strength of his stubborn will.

  “Why?” she demanded. “South said you couldn’t play if I’m not there.”

  “Conrad South can go fuck himself,” Alex snapped. “You’re not going to be there and that’s final.”

  She swallowed. “But you’re going, aren’t you?”

  He didn’t look away. “Yes.”

  “Why? You have the information you need; what’s the point of playing now?”

  Shadows moved in his eyes. The echoes of the past. Rage and pain, and something else she couldn’t identify. And she realized he wasn’t attempting to distract or conceal them; he was letting her see.

  Her throat closed. “What?” she forced out. “What do you want from him?”

  “What do I want?” Slowly, Alex picked up the ball and spun the wheel again, dropping the ball once more so it flashed around the inside rim. “Revenge, Katya mine. I want revenge.”

  She didn’t need to know what for; she’d already guessed. But all of a sudden she wanted to hear his story, hear it in his own words.

  Are you sure you want his secrets? Once you know one, you’ll want them all.

  But no, she needed to know this. It was background to the mission; it was vital.

  Keep telling yourself that.…

  Katya ignored the voice in her head. She focused on the man in front of her instead. The man who was looking right at her and not the wheel he’d set in motion. As if he wanted her to ask the question.

  So she did. “What happened, Alex? What did he do to you?”

  The wheel spun, the ball rolling around and around.

  But Alex was completely still, like he’d been turned to stone. Only his eyes burned, sapphire blue turned dark as midnight. “He raped me,” he said in a voice devoid of expression. “The fucking bastard raped me.”

  * * *

  He didn’t really want to tell her, and as soon as the words left his mouth he wished he hadn’t. But he couldn’t take them back. They were out there now.

  Someone else knew. It was real.

  He waited for the reaction, not knowing what to expect. Shock for certain. Perhaps disgust or revulsion to follow, then a side order of pity.

  And he found he was sitting there in his seat, every muscle locked up like he was bracing himself for a blow.

  Or readying yourself to run.

  But no. He didn’t want to do that. Not now. The time for running was over and had been the moment he’d realized Katya had come for him the night before. Because she was still here. Waiting for him in the seedy midday of the gaming room like a lily in a bouq
uet of wilting hibiscus. With her sharp, perceptive gaze and her strength.

  And he didn’t want to run from her. He wanted to give her the truth instead.

  So he’d said it. He was tired of running anyway.

  Her face didn’t change and none of the things he expected crossed her face. She only looked at him, her gaze very direct, and said, “I know.”

  Oh fuck. Here was the shock, piercing him like a blade. “What?” he demanded, unable to help himself. “What do you mean, you know?”

  She sat very straight in her chair, her hair in a simple ponytail down her back. “I guessed it was probably something like that. I could see how angry you were at him. You hated him, so I knew whatever he’d done was bad. There was also a strange tension between you that felt … physical almost.”

  He didn’t move, reflexive disgust shifting inside him. “Oh Christ, so it was obvious then?”

  “No, of course not. I just knew because…” She hesitated. “You were so angry. And you were in pain. He hurt you and I knew it must have been bad to make you hate him so much. That it must have been deeply personal.”

  Every instinct he had was telling him to move, to get away from the look in her eyes. From the terrible understanding. But he made himself sit there and bear her gaze. And in that moment he realized that he wanted someone else to know. Because he was so fucking sick of carrying it by himself.

  “It happened nineteen years ago,” he heard himself say. “I was sixteen. Remember I told you about my father and the underground casino he owned? No one knew about it. It was a secret. But he drew me into it because he needed someone to spot card counters and I was good with numbers. I remember…”—his voice thickened strangely—“… thinking how amazing it was to be part of it. Like I was in a special club that was only Dad’s and mine. Christ, I would have done anything for him.”

  Katya said nothing, only watching him. You can trust me with anything.…

  “Anyway,” he said, and weirdly, he didn’t have to force himself to go on, “Dad was losing money, running up debt. Conrad was one of his friends and was in on the casino. He paid Dad’s debts for him for a while, but Dad had nothing to pay him back with. But … Conrad had decided that he wanted me and he cornered me one night, telling me that my dad was in serious debt. And that if he wasn’t careful, he was going to get himself hurt. But that I could help him. All I had to do was—” He stopped abruptly, a bitter laugh forcing its way out of him. Why was this still so hard? “I think you can imagine what he wanted.”

  “I can,” Katya said quietly. “You don’t have to say it.”

  No, he didn’t, did he? They both knew what he meant. A tenuous thread of relief curled through him and suddenly he didn’t want the distance between them. He wanted her close, her body next to his the way they’d been sitting at the reception.

  Alex didn’t question the impulse; he only held out his hand to her. “Come here.”

  She didn’t question, rising from her seat and moving over to where he sat as if she already knew what he wanted. And hell, she must have read his mind, because she seated herself in his lap with a graceful movement, leaning back with her head against his shoulder.

  He slid his arms around her waist, holding her close. She was so warm, an intriguing mix of soft and firm, of curves and long, lean lines. He could feel her fingers on his arm, just resting there, her touch warming him like a ray of sunlight on a patch of frosty ground.

  He turned his face into her hair, feeling the softness of it against his cheek. “I let him do it. I let him have me because I wanted to help my dad. But I made Conrad promise not to tell him what happened. I didn’t want him to know. I didn’t want anyone to know.”

  Katya’s fingers moved on his arm, stroking him. Not saying a word, which was just perfect. Allowing him room to speak if he wanted to. And he did.

  “He took me into the fucking men’s bathrooms and he raped me, and afterwards I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. All I wanted to do was run. Put as much distance between me and what happened as I could. I never saw my father again. He killed himself about a month later. After that my mother and my sister came to bring me home–I was living with Gabriel at the time. But I didn’t want to do that either. I couldn’t bear to go back. So I didn’t.”

  Another moment of silence passed and he didn’t break it, content to hold her in his arms, letting the scent of her take away the taint of the past.

  Then she said softly, “But now you are going back. You’re facing him again.”

  “I am.” He found he was grinning savagely. “And this time he’s going to be the one begging me to stop. I’ve been running from this for nineteen years, but no more. I will have revenge for what he did to me, Katya. I will have it.”

  Her fingers tightened fractionally on his arm. “I am coming with you, Alex.” She said it like it was already a done deal, like there was no room for argument. “You need someone to have your back.”

  He’d never intended for her to be there; he’d never wanted anyone to see. It was supposed to be just him and Conrad, a private, very personal revenge. Like what had happened between them had been very private and very personal. And yet the thought of Katya being there, lending him her strength … Christ, it was so good. He’d carried this alone for so long and, hell, she knew all his secrets now anyway.

  “Conrad will use you to get at me,” he said, voicing the one concern he had left. “Like he used you last night.”

  “That doesn’t worry me. You know I can protect myself if need be.”

  He looked down at her, found her gaze on his. “It’s not physical harm you should be worried about. He gets off on power trips and he’s a master at emotional manipulation. He will hurt you if he can.”

  But her gaze was steady. “Then we’ll have to beat him at his own game, won’t we?”

  “We.” He liked that. Fuck, no, he loved that. “That’s all part of my plan, Katya mine. You see, he still wants me. He wants to own everything I have and me into the bargain. So that’s what I put on the table. He’ll have to put in a similar bet if he wants to stay in the game, which means his casino, all his money, all his power. And then I’ll beat him; I’ll wipe the table with him. And once I’ve done that, I’ll get out my gun and I’ll put it to his head and I’ll make him beg for his life.”

  There was a spark in her eyes. A glowing emerald spark. “You don’t need to bring a gun. You can use mine.”

  * * *

  Alex’s expression was fierce and she couldn’t blame him. She wanted to get her gun and go and shoot South herself after what Alex had told her.

  He’d been sixteen. A boy …

  The tight feeling in her chest wouldn’t go away, a complicated mixture of anger and sadness. And something else, a lurching, frightening emotion she didn’t quite understand. One that made her want to touch him, hold him. Give him comfort. Take away all the pain and fear he must have experienced.

  She felt his fingers close around her ponytail, gripping her. “Does it change things?” he demanded suddenly. “Knowing what he did to me? Does it change the way you see me?”

  “No,” she replied with absolute truth. “I guessed anyway days ago.”

  His gaze roamed over her face, as if he was searching for something, that fierce expression still burning in his eyes. He had his fingers tight in her hair, his arm around her waist like an iron band. Holding on to her tightly. “Are you sure? Because you’re the only one who knows, Katya. I’ve never told anyone else.”

  Another lurch inside her chest. One that made her breath catch and her heartbeat accelerate. And she knew it was about more than desire. More than lust. That it ran deeper, wider, than either of those.

  She thought she could keep this separate, that she didn’t have to feel anything emotionally for him. But that was only a lie she told herself to make herself feel better.

  She was the only one who knew this truth about him. The only one who knew his secrets. How could she keep herself sepa
rate after that? Because the answer to give him, to keep the emotional distance between them, was, No. I’m not sure.

  But that was a lie too far. And she couldn’t do it. The things he’d told her deserved more. He deserved more.

  So instead she said, “Yes. I am sure.” And then she shifted, sliding a hand between them, her palm covering the front of his suit trousers. “Would you like me to prove it to you?”

  She heard the catch in his breath, saw the flame ignite in his eyes. He was already hard beneath her hand, the heat of him burning through the fabric of his pants. “I seem to recall something about not screwing you today. That I needed to get my head in the game for tonight.”

  “Actually, I think this is exactly what you need.” She traced the long, hard shape of him through the material, holding his gaze as she did so. “I think you need me before you go face him tonight. Because I’m the only one who knows. Which makes you mine.” She squeezed him. “He can’t touch you, Alexei. He can’t ever touch you again.”

  He stared at her a long moment, his expression opaque. Then he let go of her ponytail and reached instead for the buttons of the white blouse she was wearing, gently beginning to undo them. “I’ve never been anyone’s before,” he said softly. “I think I like it. But as a sop to my masculinity, I think you’re going to have to prove to me that you’re mine too.”

  She swallowed, trying to read the look on his fiercely handsome face. He was looking down at what his fingers were doing, methodically undoing each button of her blouse. “Am I yours?” The question came out before she quite knew she was going to ask it, a pleading note in her voice that made her want to cringe.

  His hand slid into her blouse and beneath the delicate white lace of her bra, cupping her breast, the heat of his palm like a brand against her skin. He shifted his gaze to meet hers. “Do you want to be?”

  Yes. Yes. Yes.

  “Da.” It took her a moment to realize she’d answered in Russian.

  His mouth curved, his thumb circling her nipple, making her shiver. “Show me how much.”

  There was no one here; the room was empty. Nevertheless, it was a public place. And yet she found she didn’t care. She squeezed him again, his cock getting harder and harder, running her thumb down the length of his shaft and back again.