Black Knight, White Queen

by Jackie Ashenden

  “But that’s what your sister did, didn’t she? Wanted out?”

  Izzy’s chin snapped up. “What the hell? How is me not wanting to go home anything like Angie taking her own life?”

  “If you don’t go back, then you’re not there anymore. No, it’s not the same, but that’s essentially what you’re doing. Removing yourself.”

  Izzy’s flush deepened, anger stark in her eyes. “You’re damn right it’s not the same. Since when did you get the right to tell me what I’m doing is wrong?”

  “I’m not telling you it’s wrong, Izzy.”

  “Then what’s with all these questions?” Her knuckles had whitened around her beer bottle. “It’s got nothing to do with you. We’re just ‘lovers’—”, she did air quotes around the word with her free hand, “—so why you think you can say all this stuff to me I have no idea!”

  Christ, she felt everything so intensely it was almost painful to watch. “And yet you can ask me all kinds of private questions, but I can’t ask you?” He kept his tone level. “I’m just trying to understand what you’re running away from.”

  “I’m not running away!”

  “Aren’t you?”

  Her breathing had quickened, the silk across her breasts shimmering in the dim light of the bar. With a jerky movement she raised her beer and drained it then put it back on the table, the bottle wobbling. “It’s my fault,” she said baldly. “It’s my fault Angie died and I can’t stand it.”

  “Your fault? I thought you said she took her own life?”

  “She did. But I was the last person she spoke to before she died.”

  “That doesn’t mean she—”

  But Izzy carried on right over the top of him. “She sounded so tired. Told me she’d been feeling down. She’d had depression in the past, but she was on top of it now so I thought it was nothing. A passing comment. I was busy that night. I had a dinner date with friends and was running late. So I told her I didn’t have time to talk. She said that was fine, that she’d call me later and I…I hung up. The next morning she…” The rush of words came to an abrupt halt. She’d gone pale as ashes, blue eyes huge and dark in her face. “I shouldn’t have gone out. I should have stayed. I shouldn’t have been late. If she’d only told me that she needed someone to talk to, that she needed help, then I could have done something. But I didn’t know. I didn’t think. I didn’t do anything at all. And she…she died.”

  Her hand rested on the table and the urge to reach for it became unstoppable. Providing comfort for someone else was alien to him, but he did it anyway, her fingers icy beneath his. “No, you didn’t know. She chose not to tell you she needed help. She made the decision to end her life. You can’t blame yourself for someone else’s choice, Izzy.”

  “But I should have, Aleks. I should have.”

  “Why?”

  “I told you, she’d had depression in the past. She’d—”

  “Plenty of people have depression but not everyone kills themselves.”

  “Yes, but I should have gone over there anyway. Made sure she was okay.”

  “Why would you? She said she was tired. She said she was fine.”

  “But I…I should have known. Somehow I should have known.”

  He didn’t know what to say or how to make things better for her. All he could offer was logic. He tightened his fingers over hers. “You couldn’t have known unless she told you, Izzy. And even if you had, what would you have done? If you stopped her this time, what’s to say she wouldn’t have tried to end her life again? At a different time? You can’t predict everything people do. Viktor used to say…” He faltered, cleared his throat, then went on, “Viktor used to tell me a story about one of the chess greats who was often asked how many moves ahead he thought. He answered, ‘Only one move ahead. But it was always the best move.’” He stared into her eyes. Into her pale face. “You can’t predict your opponent all the time, Izzy. You can strategize and plan for every eventuality, but sometimes a move comes out of left field that you hadn’t seen coming. All you can do is the best you can with the information you have at the time.”

  Izzy’s hand was motionless under his. The look in her eyes unreadable. “You know,” she said hoarsely. “Sometimes you do a very good job of acting like a robot, but then you’ll come out with something like that.” Her hand turned, cold fingers twining with his. “Thanks, Aleks.”

  The liquid glint of tears sparkled in her eyes, and something tight squeezed his chest. Something uncomfortable. Sharing grief and anger and comfort in a bar on Patpong Road wasn’t what he’d intended when he’d come out with her. It felt too intimate. Too intense.

  The silence lengthened, her fingers around his starting to become more than a comforting touch. More than a sexual one. A connection.

  The urge to leave, get away, became overwhelming. Aleks pulled his hand from hers, unable to make the movement gentle. “We should go.”

  “What? Why? You don’t want another drink?”

  His heart raced strangely. He took a slow, silent breath, trying to calm the hell down. Trying to find his usual detachment. Why did he feel like this? Christ, this just got worse and worse.

  Perhaps he should get rid of her tonight. Perhaps once she’d gone things would get back to normal.

  Yet as he looked into her eyes, he found himself saying, “Okay, fine. One more drink.”

  Damn.

  “Tell me about Viktor,” Izzy said as he came back to the table with the next beer round.

  Aleks slid back into the booth, pushing the beer over to her, a guarded expression on his face. “What do you want to know?”

  “How you met him. Why he was so important to you.” She let out a breath. “I’m sick of talking about me and my bloody problems. Let’s try yours for a change.” Exhaustion had crept up on her. All she wanted was to think about something else for a while. Not Angie. Not going home. Not guilt or grief or anger. Perhaps going back to the hotel would be a better idea, but then she liked just sitting here with him.

  His gaze moved over her face. “You look tired.”

  “I am tired. All this hot sex and baring of my soul is killing me.”

  “Do you want to leave? Go back to your hostel?”

  Man, he’d never get this humour thing, would he? “Joke, Aleks. I’m quite happy with all the hot sexing, thank you very much, no matter how tired it makes me. Though perhaps I’ll shut up about my sister for a while.”

  But he frowned. “Perhaps I’ll run you a bath when we get back.”

  “A bath?”

  “Well, they’re supposed to be relaxing, aren’t they?”

  Dear God, the man was trying to look after her. The warmth that had settled in her chest the moment his hand had covered hers began to spread outwards, dulling the previous hurt. Easing the sharp points of her emotions.

  She swallowed past the lump that had taken up residence in her throat. “Yeah, apparently they are. Thanks, I’d love one.” She gave him a faint smile. “But don’t think this gets you out of telling me about Viktor.”

  “There isn’t much to say.” He lifted a shoulder. “I met him after I got out of the kid’s home. I was living on the streets and trying to avoid the police at the time. I think I was twelve.” Aleks ran a thumb over the glass of the beer bottle, wiping away the condensation. “I went into a park to avoid the cops and found a bunch of old men sitting around playing chess. I sat next to one of them, hoping the police wouldn’t see me and started watching the chess game. Pretty soon I’d forgotten about them because the game was far more interesting.”

  “Hey, back up. You were on the streets?” She couldn’t keep the shock out of her voice.

  “Yes.”

  “So you left the orphanage?”

  “As soon as I could.” Silver glinted underneath dark lashes. “The moment I got sent back to Russia I decided I was going to go back to the States somehow. That no one was going to take my life from me just because I smashed a vase against a wall. And t
hat wouldn’t happen if I stayed in the orphanage. So I got out as soon as I could.”

  “When did you get out?”

  “A few years afterwards. When I was ten.”

  “Aleks.” His name was a soft, shocked breath. “That’s so young.”

  “I survived.” Something cold gleamed in his eyes. Something hard.

  Izzy took a sip of her beer, her mouth dry. Understandable then, his detachment. The things he must have seen, and so young too. “So what happened in the park?”

  “The police spotted me, but the man I was sitting next to happened to be Viktor and he told them I was his grandson. Then he made me sit next to him the rest of the day while he taught me how to play chess.” His gaze turned distant. “Every day I went back to the park. Viktor knew I was living on the streets and tried to give me money but I wouldn’t take it. I didn’t want anything from anyone. So he played me for it.” Aleks’s mouth softened. “I think he let me win those early games just so he could give me money. But then I got better. Much better. I started hustling money from other players to earn more cash until Viktor suggested the chess tournaments. The prize money eventually got me to the States.”

  His voice had gotten quiet, and she could see the weight of memory in his eyes. And the weight of grief.

  “What happened to him?” she asked.

  “I went back to Moscow just before coming here. I hadn’t been back for a couple of years, and I just wanted to tell him about this tournament. A win will boost my rankings and hopefully put me in contention for the World Chess title. I wanted him to know. But…”Aleks stopped, his hand stilling on the bottle of beer. “He wasn’t at the park where he usually was. Then one of the other old men told me he’d passed away the month before.”

  Izzy’s heart constricted. Aleks was too far away to reach over the table so she reached under it and put her hand on his knee instead, wanting to touch him, to provide some comfort in any way she could. “I’m sorry.” He was warm, the denim rough beneath her palm and she felt him become very still.

  Slowly his gaze came to hers, the distant, cold look fading. Replaced by something far more intense. He didn’t say anything but beneath the table his hand covered hers, holding it there, pressing down.

  The space between them came alive with tension.

  Aleks’s hand drew hers higher so her palm pressed flat against his thigh. His eyes had gone silver in the dim light of the booth. Molten with a familiar heat.

  “I think it’s time to go back to the hotel,” he said, a faint rough edge to his voice.

  Izzy spread her fingers on his thigh, the heat of him making the tightness in her chest go away, making her heart race. “I haven’t finished my beer though.”

  His expression became intent as she stroked her thumb back and forth, feeling the muscle flex beneath her hand. So powerful. So strong. And yet so vulnerable too. He hid it beneath all that ice and yet it was there. Complex, fascinating man.

  “Yes, you have.” He moved, her hand falling away from him as he got to his feet. But then he held out his own to her. “Come with me.”

  Desire had begun to burn in her blood, heat rising. A tease hovered on her lips, but she found she couldn’t say it, the atmosphere too intense for jokes or flirting.

  So she said nothing, swallowing as she got to her feet. And put her hand in his.

  The night outside was vibrant with neon and music and the noise of the crowd. But Izzy became quiet and still, her concentration narrowing down to encompass the man who walked beside her. To his hand holding hers. To the warmth of his skin, the feel of his fingers.

  They didn’t speak as they got a tuk-tuk to take them back to the hotel. Aleks let go of her hand as they rode through the city in silence but she didn’t protest. The tension pulled tighter and somehow not touching him, having the warmth of him so close she could feel it but not doing anything about it was even more erotic than holding his hand.

  The hotel lobby was quiet as they made their way to the elevators, enclosing them further in the small bubble of tension that stretched and stretched between them.

  In the tiny space of the mirrored elevator, Izzy leaned against one wall while Aleks leaned against the opposite one, their gazes locking. Holding. He made no move toward her, just looked at her, desire naked on his face.

  It made her shiver, made everything inside her draw tight, made her breathless.

  The elevator stopped, some people preparing to get in. Aleks’s attention didn’t waver and neither did the expression on his face. He kept looking at her as if he wanted to eat her alive.

  Perhaps the people noticed the electricity in the air because their chatter stopped and one of them said, “Uh, perhaps we’ll get the next one.”

  Izzy barely heard. Her consciousness had zeroed in on Aleks standing opposite her. Looking at her. A replay of their first meeting only a day ago, only this time so much was different.

  This time the barriers were down between them.

  The lift pinged and Aleks put his hand on the door, holding it open. Izzy pushed herself away from the wall, her heart beating so fast it felt like it was going to come out of her chest. She tried to calm her breathing as she walked down the hall, but nothing was going to ease the ache between her thighs, the desperate need to be close to him, touch him. Nothing except Aleks.

  She could feel him walking just behind her, a tall, dark presence, and the thought of what would happen once they were inside the suite made her almost want to run just so she could get there quicker. Have him faster.

  At the door to the suite she waited while he swiped the card through the reader and as he did so, she noticed his hand shook.

  Her patience, already frayed, snapped completely. “Aleks,” she said in a thick, choked voice. “Hurry.”

  The door opened and she was pulled through into the darkness beyond. His hands were on her hips and as the door closed behind them, he pushed her up against it, his breathing loud and as fast as hers.

  In the dark, she could only just make out his face as her eyes adjusted to the dim light. The hungry expression on it stole the breath from her lungs. She reached up, wanting to pull his mouth down for a kiss but he grabbed her wrists, held them tight.

  “This time I want you to tell me what to do,” he said hoarsely. “I want you to give the orders.”

  She stilled, the breath catching in her throat. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.” He let her go but didn’t move away. “Tell me what to do, Izzy.”

  He was giving her a gift, she knew that. A rare gift. And though part of her just wanted him to rip her clothes off and have her immediately, she knew that to do so would be to deny both of them. She didn’t have the patience to move to the bedroom—she wanted his touch too badly, too much—but she could take it slow right here.

  Izzy fought to get her breathing under control, trying to get her voice to work. “Kiss me then.”

  Aleks took her face between his hands. His eyes were nearly black in the darkness of the room, his breathing accelerated as he looked down at her. Then, so slowly she wanted to scream with frustration, he bent his head.

  It was an achingly light kiss, a gentle brush of his mouth against hers. A first kiss.

  Izzy shuddered, her mouth opening beneath his. She wanted to grab him, kiss him harder, hungrier. But this kiss had a sweetness to it that hadn’t been there before.

  She closed her eyes, hardly able to breathe as Aleks began to explore her mouth with exacting care and gentleness. A soft groan escaped her as he stepped closer, his body pressing against hers, the hard wood of the door against her back.

  “More,” she whispered and he gave her more, a hand at the back of her head, angling it so he could explore her even further. The kiss changed, became deeper and yet no less exquisitely tender.

  Izzy reached for him, pressing her hands against the hard wall of his chest. Utterly lost in the taste of him and the heat of the kiss. She wanted him so much, so passionately, yet at the same time
she was quite happy to stand there, lost in his kiss for however long he wanted to kiss her.

  “Izzy,” he growled softly against her mouth. “Tell me.”

  Shit, that’s right. Orders. “Uh…I want…I want you to take my clothes off.”

  “Here?”

  “Yes, here.”

  He lifted his head, his hands moving to the knot that held her blue silk wrap around her. Again that tremble in his hands as he undid it, and she had to fight the urge to cover his hands with hers and to hell with all this order stuff.

  But she didn’t. Fingers clenched, she waited while he slowly peeled the blue silk away from her, shivering as the material dropped to the ground, baring her. She heard the breath go out of him.

  It felt like he was looking at her naked for the first time.

  His hands moved to her wraparound Thai trousers, pulling the tie that held the waistband shut so that they fell into a puddle of blue cotton at her feet. Then he looked into her eyes, slid his fingers into the waistband of her lacy briefs at her hips, began to ease them down.

  She couldn’t tear her gaze away from his. The Apocalypse could have happened right outside and she wouldn’t have noticed. Her entire world had shrunk to the feel of his fingers on her skin, the tightness of the fabric as he pushed her underwear down her thighs, and the silvery gleam of his eyes in the darkness.

  Then he dropped to his knees in front of her and she trembled as he pulled the briefs down, his fingers closing around first one ankle then the next, lifting each foot so he could take the material entirely off her.

  His breath warmed her thighs as he swept his gaze up her body. “You smell of sex, Izzy.” He put a light hand on her abdomen. “I want to taste you.”

  God, she wanted him to. But she’d come the moment he put his mouth on her. “No. I’m too close. I want you inside me.”

  Slowly he rose to his feet, dark and powerful, towering over her. Fully dressed while she remained naked. Unbearably erotic because she knew where the power lay: with her.

  Desire clogged her throat. She liked this slow, gentle Aleks but that wasn’t what she wanted right now. She’d gotten too close to the edge.