by Susan Harris
“Why are we here?” Nickolai asked, scrutinizing me.
I swallowed hard under his gaze, then smiled and shrugged my shoulders. “You’ll just have to wait and see. Now, do I have to get my own door, or are you going to be chivalrous?”
Nickolai slid from the car and was around to open my door in breakneck speed. He held out his hand for me, and once I was standing in the night air, he rested his palm on the curve of my back, dangerously close to copping a feel of my ass as he steered us toward the theater.
Many years ago, Cork had tried and failed to get planning permission for an events center. They spent years and years trying to get it sorted, but politics and recessions meant that it never took off. Then, a billionaire tycoon purchased a country estate in the west of Ireland and decided he didn’t want the long travel to see his favorite Broadway shows or ballets and spent a tidy sum to purchase and build on a plot of land just outside the city.
Now, the theater was the place where the rich and famous came to indulge in their need for exquisite dancing and shows. The fact it cost two grand a ticket for a mere mortal to sit in the audience was reason enough to make it exclusive.
The front of the theater was shaped like a mansion, inviting and homely, with solid oak doors manned by guards in tuxedos. One had a clipboard and was ticking off names as people entered the theater.
When our turn came, Nickolai looked at me and I smiled at the man at the door. “Ryan Callan and Nickolai Romanov.”
The guard blinked in surprise and then gave me a warm smile. “Of course, Miss Callan. Edgar here will escort you to your seats.”
As we followed Edgar, Nickolai started to figure things out and his hand slipped around my waist to pull me closer, resting on my hip as we went inside. There was no advertising about what we had come to see, and that’s what I had paid for. I did not want Nickolai to know anything until either I told him, or the music started.
Edgar steered us to the back of the theater, and a great many eyes watched as we were escorted to an elevator. Edgar informed us that the elevator would take us to our private box as he handed us key cards, and that during intermission, those same key cards could be used to swipe into the private bar.
The moment the elevator doors closed, I found myself against the wall and Nickolai’s heated eyes on me. His hands slid up my sides, and when his touch grazed the underside of my breasts, I shuddered. His hand then went south, fingers touching my bare thigh through the slit in the dress.
“You aren’t wearing weapons.”
I chuckled at the strained statement. “Not many places to hide a sword in this dress. My chopsticks can gouge someone’s eye out, though, if that helps.”
The palms of my hands slid up his chest, and I gently pushed him back. “Patience, Nicky. The best is still to come. I think you’ll want to see this through.”
The elevator doors opened a second after Nickolai took a reluctant step back, and then, taking my hand in his, we exited the elevator and headed into our private little box. Helping me into my plush, red velvet-covered chair, I managed to sit down without falling over, tucking one ankle behind the other. Nickolai unbuttoned the jacket of his tuxedo before he sat, and then his chair swiveled to me.
“If this is a date, and it’s technically our second date, does this mean I might get to second base before the morning comes?”
Nickolai wiggled his brows, and I laughed as an usher stepped inside the box and handed us the program for the evening. Nickolai took the program and simply stared at it like it was something he’d never expected to see.
“How?” he asked, wonder in his tone, never taking his eyes off the program.
Smiling, I wet my lips and told him the truth. “I know you better than anyone, Nicky. You spent time watching me over the years—enough to know what books I like, what sweets I like, and even what my favorite drink is. But you didn’t expect anyone to watch you.”
Nickolai looked at me like I’d lost my mind, like he couldn’t comprehend what I was saying.
“And when I say watching, I mean taking in the small details. Like how you hate black coffee, but you drink it because your mom brings it to you when you’ve been locked in your office for hours. You hate falseness in people. You have this mature public façade, and then there are times when I’m starkly reminded that you are still a twenty-year-old man.
“You read books on psychology because you want to understand people. Your favorite color is purple, but if anyone asks, you tell them it’s red. You have a bear called Nester that you’ve had since you were three, but you keep it hidden. You listen to hip-hop because you like it, but you hide the fact that you love classical music, especially opera.”
Nickolai’s eyes widened, and I continued with a smile.
“There was this night a couple of years ago when everyone had gone out to a human club and I availed myself of the quiet time to train. I expected the compound to be empty, so I was curious when I heard music coming from the cinema room. I crept inside and there you were, watching an opera on the screen.”
Nickolai dropped his gaze to the program, and the pieces finally clicked into place.
“You looked so serene; I think it was the most at peace I’d ever seen you. You were so engrossed in what you were watching that you didn’t notice me there and I left you to your solitude.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
Swinging my chair round to him, I knocked my knees against his as the lights flickered overhead, and a voice told us the show was about to begin. “You spend all your time noticing other people. You helped Farrah muster the courage to come out to her parents. You scoured the Book of Eve so Jack and Atticus could get married. You see others around you all the time, and I wanted you to know that I see you, Nicky. I see you.”
21
Before Nickolai could offer a response, the lights went out and the music started to play. In a moment, Nickolai went from on-edge to utter calm, his hand reaching for mine as the curtains lifted, and I lost Nickolai to the singing and movement on stage.
All those years ago, the opera Nickolai has been watching was called The Mikado, and I had spent the entire night after trying to find out as much as I could about it. The opera was set in a little Japanese town called Titipu in the late 1800s. Nanki-Poo, son of the Mikado, Emperor of Japan, disguised as a wandering minstrel, came to town to claim his secret love, Yum-Yum, only to find that Ko-Ko, the Lord High Executioner, was preparing to marry her. Then Ko-Ko found he must carry out an execution or the town will be reclassified as a village.
To be honest, I was confused as to what all the fuss was about. My ears told me the melody and the songs were beautifully done, yet I spent a lot of time wondering what the hell was going on. But this wasn’t about what I enjoyed, it was all about the prince next to me who was now transfixed by the opera, leaning forward in his seat so he could get as close as possible to the stage.
At one point, Nickolai looked at me, the dress, and then back to the stage, and I suppressed a smile as he pieced everything together. Then his gaze was back on the opera and I would have thought I’d been long forgotten if it weren’t for the iron grasp in which he held my hand.
In the blink of an eye, the intermission brought the lights back up and a voice announced a thirty-minute break. Nickolai stared at the stage for a good minute before I saw him swallow, hard, and then turn to me, his eyes filled with a storm of emotions.
“I was gonna get you a pair of those funny, oversized glasses you see in movies, but I wasn’t sure if you’d want them, considering there’s nothing wrong with your eyes and I’m sure they’re just for show. Like, no one down there is using them.”
Nickolai’s soft chuckle wrapped around me and heated my body. “I assure you, there is nothing wrong with my eyes.”
I wasn’t sure we were talking about the glasses anymore.
Nickolai rose, dragging me with him, pulling me close to him in a suave move that had me flush against him as he leaned in to wh
isper in my ear. “Thank you, Ryan.”
“I know it’s not the best choice of opera, but it was all I could do on short notice, and it is kinda perfect if you think about it…” I trailed off as Nickolai brushed his lips against my cheek and my bones shuddered.
Nickolai lifted his head, and I used that brief reprieve to lead him out of the box. Using my swipe card, I let us into the exclusive bar, the feel of his hands on my hips burning me like a brand. Nickolai ordered a beer and a JD for me, and we sipped our drinks pretending we were civilized young people on a date.
I was starving, so I helped myself to some of the small appetizers that were off to the side, conscious not to let anything fall on my dress or eat so much that people would look.
“I wasn’t the only one picturing the Heathers when they were singing that song, “Three Little Maids,” right? You saw it too?”
Nickolai let loose a chortle of laughter that had people glancing in our direction, and I grinned as he shook his head. “I’ll never be able to see it any other way from now on. Although I think the Heathers have been disbanded in order to join the Ryan Callan fan club.”
“I don’t know if that is a good or a bad thing, Nicky.”
“Let’s not talk about work tonight. Let’s not ruin it.”
I sipped my drink, holding back a smile until I noticed a pair in the small gathering at the bar. I tensed. Nickolai sensed the change in my body, and his eyes scanned the room, a frown on his face as Cornelius and Camila Day strode toward us.
“My liege,” Cornelius said in a hushed tone as he came up to us. “A pleasure to see you here. Camila is a fan. What brings you to the opera?”
Cornelius hadn’t so much as glanced in my direction, like I was an annoyance to be ignored. His wife stood timidly next to him; her lips clamped shut as she batted her eyelashes. Nickolai set his drink down to answer, but I beat him to it, suddenly feeling brave.
“I dragged him here tonight. I donated in my parents’ names, and they gave me my own box. Nickolai was kind enough to escort me.”
Cornelius’s gaze slid to mine as if disgusted that I’d dared open my mouth to speak, and my fingers itched to pull a chopstick from my hair and stab him through one beady little eye. Instead, Nickolai wrapped his arm around my waist and pressed his lips to my hair.
“I was only too happy to oblige. Now, if you’ll excuse us, I promised Ryan a date night without any court drama, and I am powerless to argue with her.”
I laughed at his statement because all Nickolai ever did was argue with me. Taking my empty glass, Nickolai set it down on a table just before we exited the bar and stepped into the corridor. I went to enter our box when I was spun round with my back against the wall and Nickolai’s lips on mine.
There was nothing soft about the kiss; it was a claiming kiss that tasted of Nickolai and beer as he devoured my mouth like a starving man. My blood was on fire as I tilted my head into the kiss, and then Nickolai had his hand on the nape of my neck, his teeth tugging on my bottom lip as I moaned into his mouth.
As quickly as the desperate kiss began, it ended, and Nickolai was leaning against the wall, breathing hard, looking at me like he wanted more. So did I.
Lights flickered overhead, and I said, “You don’t want to miss the second half.”
“Right now, I do.”
I shook my head and slipped into the box as the curtains began to lift, and Nickolai slid into the seat beside me. The rapturous expression fell over his face again, and I spent the rest of the opera watching him, safe in the knowledge that he was so engrossed he wouldn’t notice me.
It was over far too quickly. Nickolai rose to his feet with the rest of the audience and clapped as the singers bowed onstage. Then the lights came up, and he was looking at me.
“I will never forget this night for as long as I live.”
I heard the sincerity in his voice and knew it meant I’d done the right thing by bringing him here tonight. It only occurred to me as we returned to the elevator that even despite Krista’s words, I hadn’t thought about how the night would end. We could play the pretend game for a night, but I needed to decide if I could go back to the coldhearted, lonely girl I pretended to be.
The car was waiting as we exited the theater, and I was surprised when, after handing me into my side, Nickolai sat as close to his door as possible, as if he couldn’t bear to touch me. Then he leaned forward and pressed the intercom.
“Edison, mind stopping by a drive-through for us? Ryan has had only a few bits to eat, and we both know she can get cranky when she’s hungry.”
“Yes, my liege.”
I smacked Nickolai with my clutch as I laughed. “Here I am doing something nice for you, Nicky, and you mock me? I should just get out of the car and walk home.”
“Are you saying you’re not hungry?” There was a dangerous glint in his eyes, and I rolled my eyes in response.
I shut my mouth as we rolled through the drive-through and then inhaled my food as we travelled the short distance to the compound. Anxiety suddenly flooded my stomach, and I lost my appetite. Tossing the remains of my burger into the bag, glanced out the window as we ground to a halt.
I let Nickolai lead me inside the foyer, and my heels clicked on the tiled floor. Thankfully, the halls were empty.
“May I walk you to your door?” Nickolai asked.
Disappointment washed over me, but I gave Nickolai a fake smile. “Sure.”
We climbed the stairs in silence, the tension in the air so taut I thought something would snap. At my door, I turned to Nickolai with a teasing smile. “Should I not be walking you to your door since it was me who planned this night?”
Nickolai’s features were unreadable as he leaned in and pressed his lips to my cheek. “Thank you, Ryan. Those words are too little to express how much I love what you did for me tonight. I had a wonderful time.”
For a split second, a horrible thought ran through my mind, and it must have shown on my face before I swatted it away because Nickolai asked me what I was thinking.
Shaking my head, wanting to cry, I couldn’t tell him that I wondered if he still wanted me now that I wasn’t resisting. I had shown my hand tonight; I’d cracked open a piece of myself, and all my childish fears shouted at me in my head.
“Ryan, tell me what I’ve done to put that look in your eyes.”
“I went to all this effort,” I said. “I put on a pretty dress and asked your mom to help me because I don’t know the difference between a Marc Louboutin or a CoCo Versace. You make out with me in a darkened hallway, but then you sit as far away from me as you can in the car. Now, you kiss my cheek and say goodnight? Really?”
Then, right there, after I poured my insecurities out to him and basically said I was angry because he wasn’t trying to get me naked, the asshat laughed at me. I was a damn fool.
I rushed into my room and slammed the door in his face, kicking off the heels and ignoring Nickolai as he knocked on the door.
“Goddammit, Ryan. You are the biggest contradiction I’ve ever known. One minute you’re all sharp edges and words, and the next you’re taking me to the opera because you know how much I love it; you made nice with my mom; and you wore a smoking-hot dress that I’ve imagined peeling off you for hours. Some nights, we can talk about anything until sunrise, and others, I can’t even get you to smile at me.”
Leaning my head against the door, I listened as Nickolai continued.
“You are the most caring person I’ve ever met when the world could have made you cold. You confuse me in every possible way and always have. But I can say this with absolute certainty: Despite the fact that you are a train wreck most nights, I am and always have been irrevocably and insanely in love with you, and I don’t know what the hell to do about it.”
Nickolai walked away then, his footsteps like thunder in my ears as he retreated. At first, I was angry he wouldn’t fight, but I realized Nickolai had been fighting for me for a long time. Even when I’d tried to
freeze him out, he never stopped trying to shatter the ice around my heart. He knew that when I panicked, when I freaked out like the train wreck, that I needed time to think things over and come to my own conclusions.
And I knew what I wanted.
I flung open the door and dashed down the stairs in my bare feet. I contemplated knocking on Nickolai’s door as I stormed down the hall but instead, I yanked open the door and slammed it shut behind me.
Nickolai sat on the edge of his bed, his tuxedo jacket discarded beside him as he glanced at me with caution on his face.
“You can’t just go all Edward Cullen and tell me you love me through a bloody locked door. You don’t get to walk away from me like that. You asked me once what I wanted. You told me that when I had an answer, I should come find you. Tonight was that answer. I’m not like you, I’m not good with words or fancy declarations, so I showed you tonight how much you mean to me. Do you need me to spell it out for you, Nicky? By Eve, I want you. I’ve always wanted you. Only you.”
My mouth snapped shut when I realized I was yelling so loud that my voice likely carried through the walls and there was no privacy with vampires. My breathing was ragged, and for a brief moment, I thought Nickolai was going to reject me again, like the time I’d stripped off my top in his apartment and offered myself to him in order to get me out of his system.
But this wasn’t that. I was cut wide open and bleeding with every second he stared at me, but he never moved. He simply sat on his bed, staring, like he hadn’t heard a word I’d said.
I figured I had two options at this point: One, I could flee right now and consider this over. Our chance was done and dusted, and I would never open my heart to him again.
Or two, I could be brave and see if he really wanted me.
Reaching my hands behind my back, I tried to unzip my dress. My face flushed with embarrassment at the not-so-seductive fumbling, so I turned my back to hide my flushed face. Suddenly, a hand clasped the back of my neck.