Page 17 of Mikhail Petrov

I click the bathroom lock in place hard enough to nearly break it, then brace my hands on the small sink.

“Channel it, Leah,” I say to myself in a whisper as regret roils in the pit of my stomach when

I realize he still has power over me...but even worse, that I may still love him. I suddenly question my motives, not the ones I’ve convinced myself are true, but those buried in the darkest recesses of my mind, locked away to keep my heart safe. I’ve tried so hard to hate him over the years because, in his eyes, I wasn’t worth fighting for. And when I left, I swore I would never see him again. But the moment the opportunity arose, I jumped.

What am I doing here?

I pull out my phone and punch in a message to Ann, hoping the Wi-Fi connection on this damn plane works.

ME: You were right.

Text bubbles appear and disappear before a message finally pops up.

ANN: Are you okay?

ME: I’m stupid.

ANN: Come home.

ME: I can’t. I have to see this through.

More text bubbles come and go before the next message pops up.

ANN: Guard your heart. You’re worth it. I love you.

Placing my phone on the ledge, I drag in a breath and compose myself, dabbing at an insolent tear beading at the corner of my eye. Two days. I have two days to clear the air and move on...or...

Or what?

Mikhail ends a call the moment he sees me emerge from the bathroom. Curiosity has me narrowing my eyes, but I decide not to question him.

“I’m sorry,” he blurts, almost too fast to understand. And I suddenly wonder what he’s apologizing for. “Leah, it’s been a while, and even though things ended on rocky terms, I am glad to see you.”

The way his voice softens, his eyes lingering and dropping to my lips when he doesn’t think I notice, only blows the damn door open even wider.

“It’s good to see you too.”

“Can I ask you something? But only if you promise not to get upset.”

I scoff and relax in my seat. “People only lead with that when they know they’re about to ask a triggering question. But go on.”

Why he feels the need to creep closer is beyond me, but I hate that I very much don’t hate his proximity.

“How did you convince Rod to let you do this? And does your father know?”

I match his boldness and place my forearms on the armrest, inches from him, knowing damn well he has a clear view down my cami. “My father thinks I’m still in Spain. And as for Rodri, you’d be surprised what a man will agree to under the influence of narcotics.”

He moves closer still, this time not trying to hide that his eyes are focused on my lips, and when I wet them, he draws a hard breath in through his nose. “Why? Why are you here?”

Mikhail’s harsh voice doesn’t match his body language. All the vulnerable pieces of him I once knew are unraveling before me, and I don’t think he realizes it. He’s ruthless and cold to the world, but with me, he’s always been soft and patient.

“You don’t want me?” The words tumble out, and I want to regret them because this isn’t what I came here for, but with my pride slowly leaving the plane, maybe I’m changing my mind.

“Leah—”

“Sir, would you and the lady like a drink?” The young man in black uniform is part of the flight crew. He offers me a friendly smile, but it fades when his eyes fall on Mikhail, who’s now upright against his seat, eyes plastered forward.

“No,” he says, almost from between his teeth.

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