by Alison Aimes
Their eyes locked. “You can’t control everything.”
“I can try.” He slammed the call button.
But less than two seconds later, her cough subsided. Just as she’d predicted.
He leaned her gently back into the mattress and blew out a slow breath.
She’d never been a big woman, but she was skin and bones now and no amount of money, no amount of fancy chefs and gourmet food, no amount of shouting or threats, would change a damn thing.
He knew it. She knew it. But she let him pretend. Just like before when she’d let him rant and rave and boss everyone around when it had been Anastasia lying in that hospital bed, her fingernails blue, her eyes vacant.
All his shouting hadn’t made a damn bit of difference then, either.
“Don’t let him terrorize you, Meg.” With a regal nod, Lena greeted the nurse who charged through the door, a young, rosy-cheeked brunette Alexi had had Morales vet before hiring. Tim, the orderly, shuffled in right behind. The two were always together, like Dorothy and the Tin Man.
“My Alexi is ridiculously handsome when he scowls—and he knows it,” Lena continued. “I’m certain it’s why he keeps doing it no matter what nice thing anybody does. Just hand me the cup of water and tuck in my blankets and he’ll settle down. He always does.”
See? Straight talk. No bullshit. And references to his good looks. How could he not adore this woman?
“No. I don’t need those.” Lena waved off the extra pain meds Tim held in his hand.
Alexi would have argued, but he understood. After Anastasia, neither of them were all that comfortable with any kinds of drugs. Even the kind that professed to help you. They’d seen the cost of going down that road up close, ugly, and personal.
“O-okay. Just let us know if you change your mind.” Meg was blushing, her fingers shaking as she shot him nervous glances from beneath lowered lids and tried to do her job. Tim stood silent as ever. Luckily, Lena’s young caretakers tucked blankets well. They also checked Lena’s med lines twice before hurrying out the door. This far, they’d lasted a hell of a lot longer than any of the others.
Done hovering, he settled back into his chair and scratched at the growing bristle on his jaw. “Better?”
“Honestly, no. Cancer is uncomfortable.”
Really? He loved her dry humor, but this particular topic? Not so much. Still, he understood. You handled it however you handled it—and Lena was an inspiration. One who hated fawning, which was why he forced his lips upward into the semblance of a cocky smile. “Well, cancer may be uncomfortable, but news flash, so are these hospital chairs. We all suffer in our own way.”
“Hey, boss man.” Lena was still chuckling as his CFO poked his head into the room, his Cambridge accent even more clipped than usual. “You got a sec?”
Unfolding from his chair, Alexi shot Lena a hard look. “No coughing or cheating while I’m gone.”
She waved him away. “Keep dreaming.”
Eaton wasted no time once the door shut, his gaze already refocused on the phone glued to his palm, his fingers busy swiping and pressing as he scanned the streaming data, mumbling to himself, his mop of brown hair in his eyes as always. Same haircut he’d had during their university days. Probably same suit, too. The man hated to spend money. “What a day. First, your epic fail with that inexperienced piece of eye candy and now—”
“Don’t call her that.”
“Excuse me?” His CFO’s head snapped up.
“Her name is Lily Bennett. Don’t be an asshole.”
“Ooookay.” The man looked confused. Probably because he was simply repeating the same words he’d heard earlier this morning.
Alexi tugged at his collar. For some reason, it was suddenly damn hot in the hallway. “You were saying?”
“I honestly can’t remember what I was saying.”
The heat at the back of Alexi’s neck blazed hotter. “You were about to give me some news.”
Eaton stared hard. “Right.”
They’d been friends and colleagues for a long time.
“So do it.”
His CFO jumped, fumbling his phone. “Right. Two pieces of news. First, the bank called. There’ll be a delay on their approval for the Taftin buyout. Nothing devastating to us profit-wise, but a definite inconvenience.”
“What happened?”
“Probably a glitch.” If it wasn’t financial or eating-related, Eaton’s interest was nil. “A few small details, including your birth date, somehow got changed in the electronic paperwork. Luckily they caught it, but it will take a few days to get sorted out. Hence the delay.”
Alexi stood straighter. “What was the date changed to?”
“How the heck should I know?”
Alexi raised an eyebrow.
A staring match ensued.
But soon enough, Eaton—who always folded first—cursed. Staring down at his precious phone, he pressed a few buttons, mumbled a few obscenities that sounded way more pompous—and hurtful—in his English accent, and sighed. “Well, according to their records, it’s no wonder you’re damn cranky all the time. You’re over seventy thousand years old.”
Alexi rubbed a hand across his mouth to cover a reluctant smile. Seventy thousand years ago. When Neanderthals roamed the earth.
She really was a wildcat.
And how had she done that? Very clever.
“What’s the other news?”
This time there was no need for prodding. “Just heard from one of our spies on the Winslow board. You’ve been bumped from your speaking time. Any guess on who will be speaking at that hour instead?”
“Interesting.” Losing the fight, Alexi let out a little chuckle. “I guess Lily Bennett really took exception to our little chat.”
“Looks like it.” Eaton looked wary. And mystified. “I, ah, thought you’d be more pissed.”
“Oh, I’m pissed.”
There was a longer pause. “Then what do you want to do about it?”
Find Lily Bennett and spread her wide on the nearest flat surface until all that fire inside her burns me so good.
But since that wasn’t possible, hardball it was. “I’m game to play if she is.”
His CFO tugged at his tie, clearly off-kilter. Most of their adversaries would have rolled over and played dead by now. “Do you want me to call Pierson and get her bumped?”
“No.” Alexi thought for a minute. “Let her have that time. I’ve got a better idea.”
Two minutes later, Eaton was off to carry out instructions, a smug look on his face, and Alexi was refolding himself into one of the too-small, plastic hospital chairs.
Lena watched him closely, a considering look on her face. “Everything all right?”
“Just fine.”
“Yes.” She studied him, her lips tilting upward. “I can see that.” She nodded once, as if deciding something. “You look good. Energetic. Less,” she waved a thin, blue-veined hand in the air, “inclined to strangle the next person you see. I don’t think I’ve seen you this way since we lost Anastasia.”
He jerked, the sound of her name aloud still a kick to the gut. “I’m just happy we’re coming to the end of this and that property will be back in your hands soon.”
“So many wasted years.” Lena grabbed his hand, her small grip frail in his.
At one time, those hands had been strong enough to hold him up, to comfort him, and to bitch-slap him into manning up when he’d been stupid enough to believe he couldn’t go on without the woman he’d loved since he was thirteen.
Lena had lost her daughter, but she’d supported him just the same. For that, he would always be grateful. For that, he would be her strength, her hands, her instrument of vengeance.
“It’s going to be okay.” He wrapped his palm around hers, careful to be gentle despite the darkness surging within.
“I know, syn moya.” My son. She patted his hand, offering up that same wide-eyed, hopeful look her daughter used to give him. “You�
��ll do what you can. You always do.”
He just had to be sure this time it was enough.
Chapter Four
“What are you doing here?”
Kazankov turned away from his staff and gave Lily Bennett his best no one here is holding a grudge smile. “Waiting.”
From the way she grimaced, he figured his smirk didn’t fool her at all.
She stalked closer, her briefcase banging against her thigh, her heels clicking against the gleaming polished marble that was a signature of the historic Tyson Hotel lobby.
It might be a new day, but her mouthwatering body was encased in another somber dark blouse and gray pencil skirt that had his fingers itching to sneak beneath.
He’d thought mourning wear was his new kink, but apparently professional business attire worked just as well.
Damn woman grew more tempting every time he saw her.
Not that it mattered.
Today was all about teaching Lily Bennett a lesson.
“Why are you waiting here?” Her fabulous mouth was pinched into a tight line.
He pointed toward the discrete, gold lobby sign. “Because it’s eleven, and this is where I was told to come for my interview with Tyson.”
Dexter Tyson was one of the more influential board member of Winslow Industries.
His rival’s gaze narrowed. “Interestingly enough, I was told to come to this exact spot for my scheduled interview at eleven.”
“Yes. I know.” Alexi might be a bastard, but he wasn’t a liar. “Tyson’s scheduler said as much when I let him know I had some sudden free time thanks to a recent glitch with one of my potential acquisitions. An odd date change…know anything about it?”
There was a stab of satisfaction as her face paled. Had she really thought he wouldn’t retaliate?
“When I explained you and I went way back,” and threatened to expose the scheduler’s little side business of stealing hotel supplies and reselling them at a tidy profit, “he agreed it would make a great surprise for us to share your meeting time.” He spread his arms wide. “Nice, huh?”
“The opposite of nice.” His adversary spoke through gritted teeth. “And if you think I’m going to just let you snap up Tyson’s support, you’re even dumber than that idiot nodding and smirking behind you.”
He cast a quick look over his shoulder. Sure enough. Eaton did look a bit like a smug idiot. Until he realized Lily Bennett was talking about him. Then his CFO’s smile disappeared fast.
Fighting a sudden impulse to grin himself, Alexi turned back around and got down to business. “He’s smarter than he looks. Me, too. If you were wise, you’d get out now.”
“I’m not afraid of you.”
Unwelcome lust reared its head, raked its nails across his skin, and clawed at his chest and back. Just the way he wanted this woman touching him.
He shook his head to expel the image. “You should be.”
“Yesterday, you intruded where you didn’t belong. I returned the favor. We’re even.”
“Mishka, I don’t do even.” He stepped closer. “I don’t do ties. I don’t give out medals for participating. I’m in this to win.”
She tipped her chin, her mouth mere inches from his. “So am I—and don’t call me ‘little mouse.’”
Interesting. “You know Russian?”
“I recently started studying up. Know your enemy and all that wise advice.”
“Impressive, but too little, too late. I’ve asked to address your board this Friday and the head, Don Pierson, agreed. That’s not a good sign.” He couldn’t believe his own ears. It almost sounded as if he were trying to break it to her gently.
He’d used those same coaxing tones with another too-stubborn-for-her-own-good woman once upon a time. One who hadn’t listened to a word he said, either.
“I wouldn’t order new office furniture yet.” Lily Bennett’s hold on the handle of her briefcase had gone knuckle-white. “I was informed about your presentation, which is why I’ve asked to speak to the board as well. And it’s going to be amazing.”
“I would expect no less.”
“Really?” Cynicism dripped from every syllable.
“Really.”
“What about the whole nails and spa thing?”
“I’m a quick study. Able to admit a mistake when I make one.”
“What are you up to?” Her eyes narrowed. “Is this some sort of trick negotiating tactic?”
“I’m an asshole, yes, but I’m the brutally truthful kind. I’m willing to admit you’re turning out to be a far more impressive adversary than I initially imagined.”
“I…” She swallowed hard, that kitten tongue darting out to lick those lips, and for the first time, he saw a flash of vulnerability in her gorgeous eyes.
It made his chest go tight.
Because in that small, revealing gesture it became clear that the always cool, classy, and poised Ms. Bennett was far less confident than she appeared. Worse, it mattered to her what others thought. A very dangerous weakness to have in their line of work.
So why the hell was he thinking of ways to toughen her up rather than exploiting it?
“I appreciate you saying that.” She cleared her throat, her gaze flickering away.
Ah, shit. The urge to haul her close and murmur God knows what in her ear until that vulnerable look went away surged through his blood with painful intensity.
“This thing between us is going to be a problem.” The words came out sharper than intended.
Her spine snapped straight, that soft look disappearing fast. “There is no thing between us.”
“Well, here you are.” Without warning, the man they’d come to see emerged from a nearby heavy wood door labeled Private. As wide and large as his hometown state, the very bald, cowboy boots–wearing man was dressed in a navy suit and red tie. He bustled forward and stuck out a beefy hand. “Kazankov.”
“Tyson.”
His adversary looked awfully tiny sandwiched between them waiting for her turn to be greeted.
Time stretched.
“Good to see you as well, Ms. Bennett.” Tyson’s tone was notably cooler.
Alexi throat-punched the annoying twinge of protectiveness that surged from nowhere.
“I apologize for the scheduling mishap.” Tyson’s jowls surged downward. “Damn awkward. My scheduler doesn’t usually make such mistakes.”
“These things happen.” Laying on the graciousness, Alexi ignored the glare from his rival.
“I suggest we slice the meeting time in half,” proposed their target. “Ms. Bennett, I know you’ve little actual experience in hotel management, so I’ve arranged for a tour of our facilities while you wait. There’s a nice spa on the grounds. Might be of particular interest. Gives good massages, I hear.”
Could a guy get more patronizing? Alexi slid a sidelong glance at his rival.
“I’ll take a look.” Her face was impressively blank.
For some reason, it annoyed the hell out of him.
“Kazankov,” Tyson drew his attention, “just give me a minute to finish up a call and I’m all yours.” He started toward his office. “I don’t pretend to sanction your recent actions toward the company, but I’m willing to hear you out.”
For Alexi, keeping the smirk from his face became a full-time job.
He waited until Tyson marched away. “Spa should be nice.”
“Screw you.”
“Well, there you are.” A booming voice even louder than Tyson’s emerged from the elevator.
Did these people get off on making people jump?
He swiveled around in time to see an overly tan, blond-haired figure headed straight for Lily, his hand outstretched. Unlike Tyson, this man’s expression was the epitome of friendly. “Sorry, I wasn’t here to greet you earlier. I’m Rick Johnson, head of guest relations.” He clasped his other massive paw over hers as if afraid she’d get away.
Alexi’s struggle to keep the smirk from his face got a whole
lot easier.
“Just give me a second to grab a map and folder with all the boring statistics and intel,” continued Mr. Tan and Charming. “Since it’s just you and me on the tour, we can skip the boring stuff and get right to the fun.”
“Looking forward to it.” Stepping in front of his rival, Alexi held out his hand. “I’ll be taking the tour as well.”
Rick’s orange-tinted forehead wrinkled in confusion. “But I thought…”
“You thought wrong.”
He and Morales had done their homework on not just Tyson, but his whole staff.
While the head of guest relations was, sadly, not involved in anything illegal, Rick took his job seriously enough to be attempting to plow through the entire NYC female population, guests and employees alike.
The guy was a dog. A smooth-talking, continually humping, overly tan dog.
But today he was about to be leashed.
“I’m not sure what’s going on.” His rival’s eyes flashed as she scrambled to figure out his new angle—which, frankly, he’d like to know himself.
Behind him, he could hear Eaton muttering.
“You seem to have gotten confused,” she continued. “I’m taking the tour first. You’re meeting with Tyson.”
“That isn’t going to work for me.”
Her eyes went wide before narrowing to small slits. “What in God’s green…” Slapping a tight, painful smile on her face, she seized hold of his arm. “Could I speak to you privately for a moment, Mr. Kazankov?”
“Sure thing.” His gaze locked with Rick’s. “In the meantime,” errand boy, “let your boss know I’ll reschedule our meeting at his convenience. Eaton, maybe you could help with that?”
Rick still looked confused. Eaton like he’d had a lobotomy.
Alexi turned and headed toward a semiprivate alcove near the hotel’s revolving glass doors, Lily Bennett tight on his heels.
Not ideal for a chat, but he wouldn’t know where the best places for a private moment were until after the tour—and he planned to be right there with Rick and Lily Bennett as they explored every single cozy, secluded spot.
“I have no idea what you think you’re doing,” she hissed the second she’d squeezed herself into the small space, that fake smile still slapped on her face, “but this is insane. You’re going to make Tyson so pissed he’ll refuse to vote for either of us.”