Page 51 of Fatal Bonds

She’s not wrong—especially since it’s a masquerade, which is the only reason I have a prayer of not getting turned away at the door myself. “Fine,” I agree. “I’ll take you with me, but only if you agree to obey my directions without question—and you stay by my side the entire night unless I specifically tell you otherwise.”

“Yeah. Fine,” she agrees quickly.

I release another heavy sigh, wondering if I’ll live to regret my decision. “Come on. If you’re done working for the day, let’s get the tickets now.”

Lindsey closes her laptop and jumps up from her seat more quickly than I’ve seen her move in days. She follows me back to my office, where I turn on the internet modem and open the drawer to my desk where I’ve been storing her purse for safekeeping.

Then she plops down in the chair behind my desk. “Where am I going?” she asks, brushing her fingers across the trackpad to wake up my computer.

“Here.” Shifting the laptop toward me, I quickly type in the web address and pull up the tab to purchase tickets, then I turn it back to her.

“Alright. Tickets for Lindsey Payne plus guest,” she says, the backlit screen reflecting in her glasses as she scrolls the page. “Wait, it’s amasquerade?” Lindsey rolls her eyes. “I don’t know why you gave me a hard time at all. With a good mask, no one will even recognize me.”

“This isn’t just a party, Lindsey. If things go sideways, I would feel a lot better knowing you’re safe here at home.” And while she might be right that no one would pick her out of a crowd, anyone who recognizes me will notice her by my side.

Her fingers hover over the keyboard, and for a second, I think she might have finally heard what I’m trying to say. She glances up at me through her thick lashes, her blue eyes round with concern. “Then maybe you shouldn’t go either.”

“Just buy the tickets,” I growl, my frustration rising as my impatience takes control. Grasping the back of her chair, I plant my other hand on the desk beside the computer, leaning in so I can watch what she’s doing.

Lindsey’s breath catches, and her eyes snap back to the screen as she gets to work, typing in her information. From here, I can feel the soft warmth of her skin, and my gut clenches as I stand closer to her than I have since our wedding. I didn’t expect my desire for her to rear its ugly head, but after a week of keeping my distance, her proximity is overwhelming.

“What’s this charity for anyway?” she asks as she quickly clicks through the prompts.

Taking a deep breath, I try to get my thoughts back under control and immediately recognize my mistake. She smells fuckingintoxicating, her sweet, citrusy scent triggering all the memories of her naked body trapped beneath me, the sounds of her pleasure echoing through my brain. Lindsey turns, looking up at me expectantly, and I instinctively glance down to meet her gaze. I hadn’t meant to get so close, but as our eyes connect, her face is within inches of mine. I can feel the cool, fresh breath that rushes past her lips as they part, and her gasp draws my gaze down to her full pink mouth. Fuck, I want to kiss her.

“Maks?” she murmurs, her eyes dilating.

The hint of attraction—or fear—makes my pulse quicken and my desire to claim her lips a hundred times stronger.

Wrenching myself upright to put space between us, I take a step back and shove my hands into the pockets of my chinos. The deliberate gesture will ensure I don’t touch her as I mask the bulge of my quickly swelling cock. “The children’s hospital—it’s a fundraiser for the hospital.” My voice sounds gruff with arousal, and I clear my throat. “You almost done?”

“Right.” Lindsey bites her lip as she turns back to the laptop, her fingers trembling when she puts them on the keyboard. She types in a few more details, then clicks to confirm her purchase. “All set,” she says.

“Great.” Moving toward the shelves along my office wall, I have the presence of mind to disconnect the modem. Then I step back to allow Lindsey into the hall before I close the office door behind us.

“Quitting time?” she asks, turning toward the living room, where she’s been spending her evenings before we turn in for the night. She’s been pointedly refusing my invitation to share a nightcap like we used to. Instead, since the wedding, she’s been taking a book to the couch. That way she can politely ignore me while she reads, leaving me to enjoy my drink in the kitchen on my own.

Usually, a couple fingers of chilled vodka numbs me enough to get me through the challenge of sleeping in the same room with her without sharing a bed. But the heat thrumming through my body is more than I can ignore, and it would take a considerable amount of alcohol to resolve what’s going on for me right now. I can’t just turn off my attraction to her, and I need to put more space between us before I cross a line.

“You coming?” Lindsey hesitates halfway down the hallway, glancing back over her shoulder when she realizes I’m not behind her.

“You go ahead,” I rasp. “I’ll be out in a few.”

Lindsey studies my expression for another moment, then she nods and turns toward the living room.

22

LINDSEY

At the end of the hall, I turn toward the kitchen to fill a kettle with water and put it on the stove for tea. What I wouldn’t give for a hard drink right now, to steady my nerves, but I won’t give in to that temptation—even if my emotions are reeling after what happened in the office. For a second there, I thought Maks might kiss me. It felt like he was going to. He was definitely close enough, and when he looked at my lips, I was sure he would. But then he didn’t, and I’m still trying to wrap my mind around my intense disappointment. I’m the one who’s trying to put distance between us. I’ve given him every indication that I’m done being his plaything.

But I would be lying if I said I don’t miss him. I miss his touch so much after just one week that it physically hurts me. Being near him only made that more apparent, and it’s painfully clear to me now that if he did try to kiss me, I would have no strength to resist him. For all my determination to walk away from him, it took next to nothing to make me realize how much I still want him—how much I’m always going to want him. It brings me back to the same question I’ve been asking myself from the beginning.Why am I so drawn to him? And is it enough to make up for all the reasons I shouldn’t want to be with him?

Icy heat rushes across my skin as my emotions war inside me, and I run the back of my wrist across my forehead as a trickle of sweat dampens my hairline. I’m not prepared for all the changes my body is starting to go through—the hormone overload, the emotional exhaustion, the hot flashes and tender breasts. The kettle starts to whistle, and I pull it off the burner and turn off the stove. With my pulse racing after that almost kiss and me suddenly overheating, I don’t need tea right now. I need a cold shower to get my body back under control. Maybe then, I can better focus on the reason I need to keep my distance from Maks, now more than ever.

Turning abruptly, I head back down the hallway toward the bedroom. My eyes drift toward the closed door of his office as I pass it. He’s probably working more on his master plan with Lucian now that he has the tickets to get into the masquerade. My pulse flutters at the thought of going to a gala with him—even if I’ll only be tagging along to witness a murder. Worrying my lip with my teeth, I glance down at my belly. I wonder how smart it really is to be getting in the middle of what could turn violent. But Maks isn’t even going to be directly involved, so we shouldn’t be in immediate danger.

Opening the bedroom door, I pull my sweater up over my head and toss it onto the bed as I make my way to the bathroom. Stepping through the archway, I stop abruptly as my heart skips a beat. I was so caught up in my thoughts about Maks and what’s supposed to take place at the gala, I didn’t notice the sound of running water. But as I stay frozen in the doorway, I’m struck by the sight before me. Maks stands in the shower, steam rising up around him as the water rains down on his broad, powerful back. He’s bowed forward, one palm pressed against the wall, his dark hair dripping down his forehead, his muscles jumping and knotting as they flex. His eyes are closed, his expression almost pained as his other hand strokes the thick, hard length of his erection.

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