by Raine Miller
“Should I keep reading?” There’s a hitch in my throat so it comes out like a husky whisper. Boris keeps staring and it makes me tingly all over. My abdomen is suddenly flooded with heavy want. My nipples are tight buds beneath my thin T-shirt. It makes me feel so awkward. So what do I do? I blurt out, “What are you staring at?”
“You,” he says, his voice low and thick. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, Talia.”
I scoff, looking back down at my book as I feel my cheeks flush with heat. “That is not true.”
“I don’t know what you see in the mirror, but I see hair that looks like it was made of rare metal. And skin like cream. Perfect bow-shaped lips. And you’re so smart. Way too smart for me, probably.”
My breath is caught in my chest at the kind things he’s saying, but it’s that last statement that breaks my heart. “You’re not dumb, Boris. You have dyslexia and we can get someone to help you with it. But you’re not dumb. You’re kind. A gentleman. And pretty gorgeous AF, too.”
Boris sits up and LuLu lets out a noise of protest before hopping down to the floor. But Boris barely notices my cat, because his eyes are on my lips. On the hard pearls standing out against the fabric of my shirt. There is so much longing in his gaze that I nearly combust. No one has ever looked at me this way. Ever. I get it. I see it. This connection between us is real. It’s a fast-moving train and there is nothing we can do to stop it.
Despite that, I need to get something off my chest. It’s probably not the right time but I feel compelled. I need him to know the truth.
“I slept with a client once. We had an affair for weeks. And then I found out he was married with kids. Like, happily married. And I was so devastated. Felt so stupid. I was dreadfully embarrassed, and Harold sent me here so that I wouldn’t be in the office, seeing Cameron all the time and making shit even more awkward for everyone.”
“You did not know he was married before you started the affair?” Boris asks.
“No. He never wore a ring. And I was so inexperienced…dazzled by him. By the fact that someone like him would even find me remotely attractive.”
“Why do you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Diminish yourself.”
The weight of his words makes me blush even deeper. “I guess… I mean, I’ve always been smart, you know? Intimidatingly so for some, probably. And a bit of an ugly duckling. I just—“
“Wow.”
“Wow, what?”
“Well, you’ve impressed me so much, Talia. Since I met you, you were so assured of your skills, your capacity to think through complex financial and investment details. The way you showed your resolve in the face of intimidation earlier tonight. To call yourself an ugly duckling…it is not at all in line with the way I view you.”
“Thank you,” is all I can think to say.
“I see why you are so worried about what this is between us,” Boris answers. “And there is something. I’m not imagining it, right?”
“You’re not,” I say. “But—“
“But you can’t do it again?”
“I’m sorry. I want you. I won’t lie to you, Boris. But I also can’t go through that again. You’re a client and I’m committed to that. And if we took it somewhere, I feel it would just make things icky and complicated, especially when it doesn’t work out. I can’t take that humiliation again. Not when it comes to the job I love.”
Boris looks like he wants to disagree, and part of me wants him to. Part of me wants him to say it will work out, that this is real, that it won’t affect my job. Part of me—a big part—wants him to take me and kiss me and tell me not to worry about those things. That this is different. I know he’s not Cameron. I feel so much more with Boris. The want is deeper. The desire is stronger. I feel the pull and I know he does too. And I know I’m pushing him away, but I want him to pull me back.
He doesn’t, though. He just nods and says, “I understand, Talia. I want you to be happy.” And then he lies down, turns to his side, and closes his eyes.
“Goodnight,” I say quietly, feeling short of breath and damn near ready to cry. I stand and tiptoe into his bedroom, crawling into his bed that surrounds me in his delicious scent.
A scent that keeps me awake and longing for most of the night.
Twenty-Three
Taking Care of Business
Boris
“Hello, Ally, it is Boris.” I have finally broken down and called Ally to get her started on my “life management,” as Talia has described it.
“Oh, hi,” she says. “I thought maybe you had changed your mind about hiring me.”
“That fact that I have not called you sooner is just proof how badly I need the assistance. We will start to travel soon, and I really need you to help me get organized. Could we meet for coffee?”
When we do meet up at the coffee shop the next morning, I don’t show up empty-handed. I’ve brought a substantial pile of bills and papers in a large file box. When I sit it in front of her, she raises her eyebrows. “What’s this?”
“This is a box of bills and contracts and other miscellaneous life papers.”
“And you want me to organize it?”
“Organize it. Help me set up recurring online payments. Read through and tell me anything that needs attention or discussion. I’m going to give you the key to my mailbox and I want you to manage it all.”
“Okay, I can do that. Why the sudden focus on this?”
“I am trying to move all of my financial investments to Talia’s firm as you know. Her apartment was ransacked after my current investment managers in Russia got word that I would be transferring my funds.”
“Oh my God, no. Is she okay?”
“Yes, thankfully she wasn’t hurt. But she was spooked. Apparently, they did not want to lose me as a customer.”
“That’s quite an excessive reaction.”
“And they were taking a very large cut for a very long time. Unauthorized cuts.”
“Ahh…that’s not good.”
“I have been too trusting for too long. The dyslexia makes it harder for me, of course, and so I need people who can watch my back. Talia is doing that for my financial investments. Can you do this for my daily life?”
“Yes, I can.”
“Good. Can you work with Talia to see how we can best manage getting you paid, and how she recommends managing bill payments and such?”
“I can but, Boris?”
“Yes?”
“I don’t mean to overstep, but…”
“Just ask me whatever you were going to say.”
“There are resources out there that could help you with your dyslexia. Would you like me to research some things for you?”
I sit back in my chair and run my hands through my hair. “I have managed for a very long time.”
“And, per your own acknowledgment, you have been ripped off for a long time too. I really don’t want to make you uncomfortable. It’s just that it seems like you might feel more…in control if you could manage it. A bit.”
I think for a moment, then agree to let her do some research. Ally takes my box of papers and my mailbox key and heads off, with a promise to check in tomorrow.
Practice is brutal, made up of two solid hours of drill work. We’re not far out from our first preseason games and we’re running like a machine. I feel much better about the way we play together in practice—I just hope it translates when the pressure is on in a regular game.
We head from the ice to the gym for strength and conditioning. I put in an hour on the treadmill, followed by a one-hour CrossFit-designed circuit. I’m literally dripping with sweat when I realize I have a PT appointment with Pam. A quick shower first is a must. Pam will thank me for not coming to her stinking of sweat.
She has me working on some range of motion for my shoulder when she casually slips in a question about how things went with Talia.
“No go,” I say. “We both sort of stepped back
and realized we should keep our relationship professional. There are a lot of things going on and it seemed like dating would be a definite complication.”
“But do you like each other?”
“Yes, I like her very much.”
“Then the ‘keep it professional’ excuse is baloney,” she says, making little quote marks with her fingers in the air.
“How is it baloney?”
“Look, I work here, and Georg works here. Scarlett works here and Viktor works here. Evan’s wife, Holly, used to work here doing Scarlett’s job before she had her second kid. We all make it work, even though there can be professional crossover. She’s your investment agent and you trust her with your wealth. Why wouldn’t you trust that she can be an adult about trying a relationship?”
“I do trust her. Look, she told me she once had an affair with a married client. She did not know he was married at the time, but she was very hurt by the experience. She moved here to avoid being embarrassed by it and to start over. She does not want to make the same mistake twice.”
“Are you married?”
“What? No.”
“Then what’s the problem? It’s not the same thing.”
“I already told you she doesn’t want to cross lines between her business and personal life. She is building her career here and she doesn’t want to have a reputation.”
“Did she say that? She doesn’t want to have a reputation?” Pam’s arms are folded beneath her breasts and she wears a look that makes me think she’s calling bullshit.
“No, she did not say those exact words. She said she doesn’t want to be humiliated again, and that she couldn’t take the risk of things being ‘icky and complicated,’ I say, making the little finger quotes like Pam did a minute ago.
“Okay.” She motions for me to lie down and starts the massage portion of the session. “So, I get she’s gun-shy and I get that you want to respect her wishes, but I also know when you find someone good, you should hold on tight to that person. I think you two can work it out, I really do, Boris.”
I don’t say anything in response. In fact, I am quiet for the remainder of the therapy session.
But I hope against hope Pam is right, because I want more with Talia. Now, whenever Pam compares the relationships I’ve seen my friends in, all I can see is Talia. Her wacky sense of humor, her bravery against adversity, her honesty even when it’s hard, and her heart. Fuck, her heart. I want that in my life…daily. And I can see it, but how do I get it?
“Vlad,” I say through the phone. “It’s Boris.”
“The Ice Dragon!” he yells. “How good to hear from you.”
“My new investment manager’s house got broken into. A note was left, warning her not to take my accounts.” Vlad better be the good guy in this, as I’ve trusted him for years, too. Perhaps, time will tell, but I refuse to sound weak to him about this. About Talia.
Vlad is quiet for a moment. His jovial tone has disappeared completely when he finally responds. “They are feeling protective of the relationship they have built with you.”
“Relationship?” I laugh. “It is not much of a relationship when they have been stealing money from me all these years.”
“Now, Boris, those are serious allegations, friend.”
“I am not your friend, and it is a fact. They have stolen millions from me over the years. However, I need you to do something for me that only you are qualified to do. Call your fixers on the ground in Las Vegas, or whatever you have to do to make it happen. I want those ublyudki to stay the hell away from Natalia Wentworth. If they want to come at me, fine, but she is just doing what I have asked her to do. I want you to figure out what these guys need to back away and move my money without problems.”
“These things are complicated,” Vlad says cryptically, “but I’ll see what I can do. I’ll contact Heisenberg and fill him in on the situation. He is in Vegas and coordinates jobs for me from time to time.
“Thank you.”
I hang up with him on my way to knock on Talia’s apartment door.
She opens, dressed in a T-shirt and shorts that make her legs look very long. I have to force myself to stop staring and admiring which is no easy feat.
“Hey,” she says. “Come on in.”
“Did the security system come?” I ask, looking around. Her apartment is back to normal, everything in its place, or at least in whatever place Talia wants it to be in. She’s slept at my apartment the last two nights, waiting until I could get here and install the security system she ordered.
In answer to my question, she points to a box by the door.” That’s probably it.”
I open the box, pulling out the components for the do-it-yourself system, along with the instructions. I stare at the words as they jump all over the page, then turn to find Talia staring at me with a frown on her face.
“Let me read the directions?”
I nod and hand over the paper. She reads the instructions step by step as I complete the tasks, and in just over an hour, we have the whole system installed and working.
“Wow, they say it is a simple install and it really is,” I comment.
“Hopefully it works like they say it will,” she answers. “Thanks for your help. I bet you’ll be happy to have your bed back tonight.”
“It was no bother,” I tell her with a shrug. And it wasn’t. Having her in my house, even LuLu, provided something I hadn’t realized I’d been missing. Conversation. Company. “The main box has a camera and works with the Wi-Fi to call for help if someone forces entry. There are sensors on the windows, and there’s a panic button in the bathroom. That should do it.”
“Yep. I guess that should do it.”
An awkward silence stretches between us. I don’t know what’s going on in Talia’s mind, but my mind is thinking about how much I loved having her in my space. How I wish I could have shared my bed with her.
She clears her throat and says, “I got Ally’s paperwork figured out and her payments set up. I agree with what I think was your concern and wouldn’t give her access to bank account information, even to set up payments. I’d like to suggest that maybe you two sit down together where you log-in and then she can add the auto bill payments, or she can lead you through it? That way she doesn’t see any of your passcodes, you know? It’s not that I don’t trust her, but in light of what we’re dealing with, I just feel like it’s better to be safe than sorry.”
I nod. I don’t know Ally well, but I sense that she’s trustworthy. Still, Talia is right. I’ve been burned out of millions of dollars, so I can’t be too careful right now.
She sees my hesitation and says, “We’ll figure out a way to make it all work.”
I sense she’s talking about more than finances, but I don’t have a response for her, so I just say, “Ally seems eager to get started, and with all that’s happened, I feel like it’s important to get organized as soon as possible. Thank you for suggesting the help. You were right, I do need it.”
She shrugs. “I hope we picked the right person. When I spoke to her the other day, it felt like maybe she was taking too much ownership too quickly. I sense she’s developed a little crush on you.”
I let out a noise of disbelief. “Come on.”
“No, I can hear it in her voice when she talks about you.”
“Talia, she has been nothing but professional with me so far. And you’re the one who wanted me to hire her. I was just trying to make you happy.”
“That’s dumb.”
“Why is it dumb?” I cross my arms across my chest, annoyed by her suggestion.
“Why would you hire a person, pay money to a person, just to make your financial advisor happy?”
“Because my financial advisor is someone I trust. Because I take her suggestions seriously and appreciate all she’s doing to help me. If she thinks hiring someone to help organize my life will help my financial well-being in the future, then that is what I’ll do.”
Talia’s mouth quirks
a little at my answer. “Well, your financial advisor only wants what’s best for you.” Her tone is flirty and sexy, and I don’t think she even realizes it. I have to will my cock not to respond. She has no idea—no fucking idea—how much I want her.
“And your client only wants to make you happy. And for you to be safe,” I answer, trying to keep it light when I’m really fighting to stay under control. I can hear it in my own voice, the darkness, the want. I clear my throat, but I can’t look away. “I’ll fire her if you want me to.”
“No,” she says quickly. “No, you should keep her if you want her.”
“I don’t want her, Talia. I mean, I think she can help me with organization but the only person I really want is you.”
Talia’s chest moves like she’s fighting to keep her breath even. I can see her nipples are hard, pressing against her T-shirt. I have to suppress the groan that nearly escapes when she licks her lips again. Christ.
“Well”—she takes a slow step toward me—“I want to thank you again for your help these last few days. I’d never have gotten through this without you.”
A wave of relief rolls over me, glad our conversation has turned away from this tension, or whatever the fuck this is right now. “You wouldn’t be in this mess if not for me. I owe it to you.”
“You don’t owe me anything,” she says softly, her eyes boring into me as she takes another step closer.
“I do, Talia. I owe you a lot. Especially an apology—“
And then her lips are on mine, shutting me up in the best way possible. A hard, punishing kiss spilling over with heat and passion, maybe even some anger, and tasting of mint and chocolate.
My reaction is to take her cheeks in my hands and kiss her right back. Wild and desperate, a tangle of tongues and scrapes of teeth. There’s nothing soft or gentle about it. But it’s hot.