Page 7 of Dragon Bodyguard
She obviously couldn’t keep mum and simply pretend like nothing had happened, meaning that self-imposed isolation or confrontation were her only two options.
“Come have coffee with me tomorrow,” she heard him tell Aleksander. “On pretty mornings, I like to have it in the rose garden.”
The what?
She thought she must have misheard him, but apparently not. He’d even said it with a straight face. And Aleksander nodded as though he knew exactly what he meant. Had they had some sort of rose garden fetish going on during the years they’d been such close friends? One that she’d never known anything about?
“I’m sorry,” she couldn’t stop herself. “You take your coffee in the rose garden?”
She knew she wasn’t even trying to keep her amusement out of her voice.
“Weather allowing,” Misha said, not a smirk in sight. “It’s got the most comfortable garden furniture.”
She raised her eyebrows, but this time he ignored her outright. They reached the door of Aleksander’s bedroom.
“Yours is the next one down,” Misha said, lingering by her half-brother rather than showing her to the door.
“I’ll just head in then, shall I?” she asked, soft tartness in her tone, but neither man paid her any attention.
She walked up to the door, leaving them to their male bonding session, and slipped into the room. Once she was alone, something not far from relief began to course through her. Closing the door, she leaned against it with a weight now firmly lodged in her chest. It was a weight she hadn’t felt in such a long time. The weight of the loss of him.
She wanted to break something.
He was an asshole, she had to remember that. He was selfish and callous, and he didn’t care about her. He didn’t love her. He never had.
But she couldn’t simply leave it, she knew as much now.
She would have to find a moment to confront him. It was the only way she’d be able to get closure on their past. She’d thought she’d managed it on her own, but clearly not.
Here was the chance to put everything he’d meant to her to the flame.
And she was going to take it.
Chapter 3 - Misha
Early mornings were his favorite. He liked the slanted light, the slow promise of renewal. And that it was quiet. The house wasn’t awake yet, and he was left to his own devices. Claiming the rose garden as his was a perk at this time of day. Barely seven o’clock and he was stretching out his legs across the seat of the wicker sofa, spreading the morning paper out on his lap.
Dmitri still had it delivered; he really didn’t like change.
The night before, Misha had chatted with Aleksander for a handful more minutes after Kristina closed the door to her guest room but hadn’t lingered. Aleksander had clearly been tired from the travel, and Misha had left him to shower and change his clothes for dinner, for which Misha hadn’t been present. He’d had an errand to run in the city and had been away for most of the evening. He hoped Aleksander wouldn’t sleep too late and that they’d get to have a proper catch-up. There were, as of yet, many questions left unanswered.
He turned the page, pausing as the movement of bringing the paper together revealed Kristina approaching on the path between the rose bushes. Misha couldn’t help but cock an eyebrow, especially at the expression she was wearing—pure determination. Whatever reason she had for appearing in a space she knew was somewhat holy to him, he wasn’t sure he felt like hearing it.
He didn’t even put the paper down, simply turned the page and went back to reading.
She stopped once she reached the stone slabs hosting the garden furniture. There were green-painted pergolas creating rose-covered arches around the space. Above them, the sky was blue, peaceful. Her mood, which was coming off her in waves of energy even without her speaking her mind, wasn’t fit for their setting, and he wasn’t about to encourage it.
“Nice spot.”
He raised the paper higher, keeping himself out of her line of sight.
“I know,” he replied.
“Are you serious?” she asked and before he could do anything to stop it, the paper had been snatched out of his grasp.
Misha didn’t believe in losing his temper. His job had trained him to take any situation and any circumstance in his stride, keep a cool head and assess every possible angle to ensure the outcome would be what he wanted it to be. However, having his morning routine interrupted by this blast from the past was so unprecedented that he felt angered frustration flare. He watched her drop the paper to the ground and as though two fingers had been snapped next to his ear, he let the emotions get the better of him, rising to his feet to teach her some manners.
What came out of his mouth instead of reproach was a demand, as he asked, “What the hell are you even doing here?”
