“Preston, I have to be a part of it,” she says softly.
My hands slide into her hair so I can tilt her face to look at me. “No, I can’t stand the thought of you in danger, and it might get dangerous, Skye. The Volkovs have invested a substantial sum to bail Bob out and when he finds out it’s a set up things could get nasty. We have plans in place, but there’s always a chance things could go awry and I want you far away from it.”
Her eyes flash with anger. “You don’t understand. I have to be part of his demise.” She grabs onto my forearm. “I have to have some justice for what he’s done. So please, Preston, let me have this.”
I pull my hand back and fist it. My skin crawls at the thought of her having any dealings with him at all. “I don’t know if I can allow it, Detka. What if something happens to you?” My voice cracks.
“A whole lot of shit has happened to me already. Damn it, Preston… I will be part of his takedown.” I feel the bite of her nails into my forearm as she stares at me.
I sigh. “Under one condition, otherwise I will call it all off.”
“What’s that?” She raises a brow at me.
“You are never alone with him, no matter what.”
She moves her hand back to my face. “Agreed. We will take him down together.” She kisses me softly in stark contrast to the edge to her tone.
I inhale her sweet scent and sigh, happily. “I want us to have no more secrets between us,” I murmur against her skin.
I feel her tense and pull back to study her.
“Skye? Look at me,” I plead. It takes her a moment to move her eyes back up to mine. “What aren’t you telling me?”
I see her lip wobble and then she sits up a little straighter.
“Whatever it is, we can get through it,” I promise her.
“When your mom got sick, the first time, after they told us they were going to transfer her.” She stops and takes a big breath.
“It’s ok, Skye, go on,” I assure her.
She nods. “I called my father and begged him to come and pay for her care.”
I scowl. “What do you mean? When?”
“They had just told us that without insurance she would have to be moved to County and I knew we…I…had the money to pay for her to stay at Desert where she would have a better chance.”
I still as I soak this in. “So he came to the hospital…because you called him?”
“Yes. I wanted to help.”
“So…I didn’t need to go to Russia?” I’m shocked, even though I shouldn’t be.
“No.” She fidgets with her hands. “I had to beg him. He told me it would cost me, but I didn’t care, Preston. I would do anything for you.”
“He screwed me over,” I mutter, shaking my head. Then I realize I’m only thinking of myself. Skye put herself on the line for us. My blood runs cold at the thought of her ‘owing’ Bob. “Wait, what did he mean, it would cost you?”
Her body language gives me the answer I need, but I wait calmly to hear her say it.
She looks down at her hands. “He said I would owe him, if he helped you,” she snaps.
I raise a brow. “Has he tried to collect?”
Skye nods. “About a week later. He tried to drug me, but my mother took the drink that he made for me. He broke into my room and was furious to find me alert and awake, he was going to give me to one of his friends. He said he still would, that his friend would probably pay a bonus if I fought him. I ran and didn’t look back, Preston.” She takes a shaky breath.
I stand and pull her fiercely into my arms, squeezing her as she lays her head on my chest. I can’t get close enough to her. I need to physically feel that she is safe now. “Good girl,” I whisper, feeling murderous as she relaxes against me.
She sighs and I rest my chin on top of her head, my mind on revenge.
“We’ll make him pay, Detka, he’ll wish for death by the time we’re done with him.” I kiss the top of her head and hug her tighter.
She pulls back and lifts her head. “Promise me he won’t come between us anymore.”
“He won’t, I promise.” I hug her to my chest and bring my hands around her back. “I’ve missed you so much.”
Her eyes sparkle. “I’ve missed you too.” She grins at me.
Twenty-Seven
I wake with a contented smile and stretch out. I reach as always across the bed searching for Skye and my stomach drops when, as they have been for the past month, the sheets are cool to the touch and empty. Rolling over I sigh. I still forget each morning for a moment, that she’s gone. That I fucked everything up and lost her.
It must have been a beautiful dream I had last night, the first in a long time. Usually my dreams are full of my mistakes tormenting me and of torture and endless suffering. I lay back breathing deeply, trying to deal with the disappointment and gather the strength to face another day without her. Eventually, I flip the blankets off me and get out of bed, stepping into a pair of board shorts and heading for my bathroom.
I feel empty. Lost. Then I open my bedroom door and an aromatic scent fills the air…bacon. I frown. How…? And then it hits me. Maybe it wasn’t a dream.
I walk down the hallway cautiously, not wanting to allow myself to hope. I turn the corner into the kitchen slowly and gasp when I see her. Her hair is a wild, beautiful pile of wayward curls, her bronzed skin a stark contrast to the white of one of my shirts she must have borrowed when she got up. Her back is to the stove and she is chewing on the end of a pen as she stares at the paper she is holding, a frown of concentration creating an adorable crease above her nose. Her eyes go wide and she starts writing on the paper with purpose, then without missing a beat she turns and flips the bacon.
She’s really here.
I take a moment to watch her, greedy for every second I can soak up. I remember it all now. She came back to me. We talked. It was all real. And so was the breathless, sweaty night we spent wrapped in each other. I grin, remembering how she moved beneath me, urging me on as we lost ourselves and all the demons of the past fell away.
I still feel overwhelmed with emotion and need to get it in check. I can’t go weeping with joy every time I see her in my kitchen. When I can trust my voice, I greet her as casually as possible. “Morning.”
She jumps at the sound and turns around, her smile matching mine. Relief and happiness. “Morning, I hope I didn’t wake you.”
“No, you didn’t.” I move toward her. “Did you sleep okay?”
Her smile is shy, but it betrays her thoughts. She is remembering too. “I always sleep well when I have you beside me.”
“Then you will never sleep badly again,” I promise her as I wrap her in my arms. I lean down and press my forehead to hers, just gazing into her eyes.
“Is everything okay, Preston?”
I lean over her, and she tilts her head back to look up at me. “It is now.” I bend down and kiss lips.
“What are you making? It smells fantastic.”
She pulls away from me and smiles brightly, turning back to the stove. “Bacon and pancakes, are you hungry?”
“Starved.” I move in close behind her and nuzzle her neck, placing a teasing bite there as she wriggles. She tries to resist me and places the bacon on a paper towel. I stay close behind her as she works. I love the way my shirt looks on her. I wrap my arms around her waist and rest my chin on her shoulder. “I believe this shirt belongs to me.”
“First rule of bacon… Don’t cook naked.” She reaches down to turn off the heat and the grease pops.
“Shit.” I pull my arm back.
She quickly turns grabbing my arm. “Are you ok?”
“Yeah.” I study her as she is checking my arm out with concern. I use my free hand and lift her chin up. “I’m fine, Detka. Now, about those pancakes.” I flash her a grin.
She quirks a brow and points to the seats at the counter. “Go sit.”
I return her look of incredulity. “Are you ordering me around?”<
br />
She tilts her head. “If you want your pancakes, then yes, I am.”
“Touché.” I step back and take a seat obediently.
I watch as she lights the stove under the griddle. She moves with ease around the kitchen and I hear the hiss of the batter hitting the pan. Mama would be so happy to see Skye back at home where she belongs, especially if she’s feeding me the way Mama liked to. She was old fashioned at heart, my mama. She always believed that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. Skye has other ways to my heart, but I’m not going to fight her if she wants to use pancakes once in a while.
She stacks up a plate for me and just like my mom did, she pre-butters them for me. Fuck I love this woman. She turns to me and sets down the plate, placing the syrup next to the plate.
“Eat,” she says and points at my dish.
“I’ll wait until yours is ready.”
“But they will get cold.” Her brows furrow and her lips tighten.
“Not if you hurry.” I smile patiently at her.
She opens then closes her mouth, deciding not to argue and hurries and puts more batter on the griddle. She has her smaller stack ready in just a couple of short minutes then grabs the plate of bacon and comes and sits across from me at the counter.
“Okay, dig in,” she says as she pours a little pool of syrup on the side of her plate and begins to cut a small piece of pancake to dip into it.
I smile at her quirky ways. “Why don’t you just dump syrup on them and eat?”
Her eyes widen in slight horror. “I can’t eat them like that.”
“Why?”
“Because then the syrup soaks into the cakes making them soggy and all the flavors become a big soppy mess,” she tells me with a tilt to her head as if that makes perfect sense.
Laughing I shake my head and I pour the syrup all over my pancakes with a smirk.
“So gross.”
I put a generous portion on my fork and shovel it in my mouth and the flavors hit. Home, these taste exactly like my mama’s. “Jesus,” I manage after I swallow my first bite.
“What? Are they okay? I followed Liliya’s recipe exactly.” She looks worried.
“Oh my God, Detka. They’re perfect,” I say as I stuff another forkful in my mouth.
She shyly smiles. “Yeah? They came out good?”
“More than good, perfect. Now eat.” I motion to her plate with my knife. “You lost weight again and I don’t want to see you pushing food around. You are home now and this is where you are going to stay.” I look into her eyes, shifting from my playful tone to something I hope she knows is sincere. “It’s just you and me from now on, Detka.”
“Yes, sir.” She grins and mock salutes me with her fork.
I raise a brow. “Are you being sassy?”
She is silent as she carefully puts a bite on her fork and dips it into the syrup, then she looks up at me with a smirk. “Me? Never!” She takes the bite and groans, a sound that travels straight to my shorts. It takes me back to the dim light of my bedroom last night and the ecstasy of finally losing myself to her for the first time in five years. I feel whole again. “You’re right, they came out good,” she says, digging in for another taste and dragging me back to the present.
I chuckle. “I usually am.”
“Mmmhmmm sure…” she says, chewing.
“You are being sassy.” I stare at her aghast. She hasn’t been so playful since…before all of this happened.
“Maybe.” She shrugs.
I watch her eat and try to do the same, although the pancakes come second to the raging torrents of relief, joy, and gratitude I’m feeling. I know I will get past this phase of disbelief, but right now, it’s all I can do not to keep pinching myself. Trying to behave normally, I glance on the counter and see the pad of paper she was writing on when I walked into the room. “What were you writing down when I came in?”
She looks over to the paper. “Oh, I was making a to do list.”
“To do list? Are there things you need?” I ask, knowing I will give her anything.
“Yes, I need to take my father down.” She grabs the paper and pushes it my way.
I scan the list and read the first one out loud. “Get a lawyer??”
“Yes, I’m going to claim what’s mine. I’m twenty-three. His time as guardian of my inheritance has ended and he only has what he has because I have yet to take it from him. But that is going to change.” She presses her lips together in a line and her shoulders drop slightly.
“I think that’s a good idea, Skye. But why does it seem like you are having second thoughts?”
She looks up with guilty eyes. “Because, I sound just like him. Greedy. Should I just let the money go? Oh God, Preston… am I my father’s daughter?” She covers her face with her hands.
I get up and walk around the counter to her side. “Detka, look at me.”
She takes a deep breath and looks up. I can see the self-loathing in her eyes. “Don’t let me be like him.” She swallows hard.
I brush my knuckles down her face. “You are nothing like him, this isn’t about the money for you. This is about what’s yours.”
“Isn’t it all the same?” she whispers.
“No, it’s not and you know that.” Pushing her hair out of her face and tucking it behind her ear, I cup her face. “Dig deep, Detka, don’t let his poison taint what a beautiful person you are.”
I could kill him with my bare hands for what he’s done to her. She thinks the shattered pieces of her soul are ugly and grotesque. How do I show her it’s the most beautiful mosaic I’ve ever seen?
“Is it worth it? All of this for money?” she asks with a snarl of disgust playing about her lips.
“Do you want your father to have wealth and comforts that your grandmother set aside for you and with it all the power it brings?”
“No.”
Putting a finger under her chin and holding her gaze with mine, I soothe her. “Don’t ever doubt your reasons, Detka. This has nothing to do with money.”
She nods her head. “Sometimes when I talk about money, I…I just feel like I sound like him and it makes me sick to my stomach.”
“Well, I will have to convince you you’re not. You’ve got me now to remind you of your self-worth.”
After a few moments of silence, she straightens up and sets her jaw.
She points to her list. “I need a lawyer.”
“Do you know any?”
She sighs. “I don’t know any that aren’t in my father’s pocket.”
“Would you like me to call mine?” I take a small step back and watch her face.
“Is he trustworthy?” She scrunches her nose up.
I chuckle. “I trust him as much as I trust Craig and you trust Craig, right?”
She nods. “Okay, call him. I need to get things started.”
“Yes, the sooner the better,” I agree.
She narrows her eyes. “Yes, we need to move forward. Finish this.”
I pull her to me and wrap my arms around her. “You are so amazing.” I kiss the top of her head and feel her arms squeeze around me.
She pulls back slightly to look up at me. “When do you think he will be able to see him?”
“He is actually on my calendar for tomorrow morning. Would you like me to see if he can come today?”
“Tomorrow should work,” she says slowly.
I give her a crooked smile. “I will call him now and see if he can come this afternoon.”
Her eyes light up. “Thank you.”
“Don’t be afraid to tell me what you really want, Skye. Ever.” I place a kiss on her forehead and pull away.
“I will work on it, Preston.”
“Good girl, now I need to get some work done. I will be in my office if you need anything.” The minute I let her go I miss her warmth.
Twenty-Eight
I’m soaking in the sun, the heat has always had a calming effect on me. The doorbell rings and my hea
rt skips a beat and pounds in time with the chime. Ever since Preston found me in Hollywood and brought me home, any time we get an interruption from the world beyond this house, I always think it might be my father trying to find some way to drag me off. It should stop scaring me, I have never felt so safe. Old habits are just hard to break.
I can hear the patio door open. “Skye, the lawyer is here. Want to get dressed and meet us in my office?”
I cover my eyes to block the sun, seeing his shadow in the doorway. “I’ll be right there.”
The door shuts and I get up and walk around the pool. I don’t use the same door to get into the house, instead I go through the sliding glass door that leads to the master bedroom. I’m completely dry already so I just throw a summer dress over my swimsuit. I pause in front of the mirror and silently curse the slight pink tinge of my skin. I even had on sunblock, damn sensitive skin. I will have to look for a higher SPF.
My palms are sweaty and I wipe them down the front of my dress as I walk down the hallway to Preston’s office. I pause when I place my hand on the door handle. I hear them talking but can’t make out the words. I swallow hard and lift my chin up and remove my hand from the handle and softly knock twice on the door.
“Come in,” Preston calls out.
As I walk in the room my eyes immediately go to Preston, he has a warm smile which calms me. Out of the corner of my eye I can see the man standing across from him.
“Did you enjoy the sun, Detka?” Preston says as his eyes examine me.
“Uh… yes, we need stronger sunblock though.”
“We can go to Target later.” He gives me a small smile.
“Ohh Target run, sounds like a plan.” I dart a glance at the stranger in the room. He is standing, quietly watching the exchange.
“Skye, this is Jason Carey, my good friend and lawyer,” Preston says gently.
I turn to him and give him a small smile. “Hello.”
He steps closer and holds a hand out. I hold out mine and he gives it a firm shake and cups my hand with both of his. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” he says with a very proper English accent.
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