Page 28 of Royally Romanov
He glanced at his ID bracelet and shrugged. “Yes. It’s a medical alert bracelet.”
A necessary evil. Most of the time he forgot it was there.
“Can I see it?” She looked like she was about to jump out of her skin. Odd, but definitely preferable to how angry she’d been just moments ago. “If you don’t mind, I mean. I know it’s kind of a personal thing.”
“It’s fine.” He offered her his wrist for inspection. “I’m an open book.”
He meant that literally. He’d shown her the strange journal and watched while she devoured it, page by page. Not the best idea, since now she thought he was a con artist of some sort.
I could be.
He’d considered the possibility that he might not be a good person. If that was the type of man he was, he’d rather not know.
Leave her out of his. Tell her to leave and not come back. Do it now.
He couldn’t, though. He couldn’t seem to say a word, because Finley was flipping over the silver disk on his ID bracelet to inspect it. Her fingertips grazed the sensitive skin on the inside of his wrist with a feather light touch. He could barely breathe, much less speak.
She ran the tip of her pointer finger over the bracelet’s engraved letters.
Hémophilie.
She stared at the word until a swollen silence settled between them. A silence full of history and fragile trust.
“Hemophilia?” She peered up at him through her fringe. “Is this real, Maxim?”
“It would be a rather odd choice for a fashion statement, don’t you agree?”
“I need you to be serious. Do you have hemophilia?” Her eyes grew stormy, and dark with doubt.
“Yes, I do.” He’d had the massive internal bleeding to prove it. Several times when he was a kid and most recently, two weeks ago when he nearly died at Point Zero.
“Since when?” She dropped his wrist and crossed her arms.
The sudden loss of her touch was like a wound. “All my life. I was born with it. That’s how hemophilia works.”
His disease was one of the few things he remembered about himself. Even if he hadn’t, his time in Hôpital Hôtel-Dieu would have been a potent reminder.
You’re lucky to be alive.
He didn’t feel so lucky at the moment. He felt like he was on trial.
Finley lifted an accusatory brow. “Hemophilia is sometimes called the royal disease, but I’m guessing you already know that.”
Once again, Maxim knew where she was headed, and this time he didn’t have the patience for it. He certainly wasn’t going to stand there and apologize for a medical condition he had no control over whatsoever. “If you’re implying I’m faking my disease, you’re crossing a line.”
She continued, seemingly unfazed. “The Tsarevich Alexei had hemophilia. Anastasia’s brother. Did you know that, too?”
“Yes, I did.” There was no sense in lying. He’d known. Should he have told her sooner that he and Alexei had the disease in common? Would it have made a difference?
Doubtful, since she suddenly seemed so determined to believe he was a fraud. She probably thought he’d ordered the bracelet online somewhere as part of his ruse.
He took a sip of wine and placed the glass down on the counter with exaggerated calm before continuing. “I knew Anastasia’s brother had it. And before you ask—yes, I also know it’s a hereditary condition.”
“So you’re telling me that you have the same rare hereditary blood disorder that ran in the Romanov family.” The soft swell of Finley’s bottom lip slipped between her teeth, and she frowned. She looked more confused than angry, which Maxim counted as a minor victory. By all appearances, she couldn’t quite decide whether to believe him or not.
Fine. He’d just have to help her make up her mind.
He took another slow sip of wine, gazed steadily at Finley and unbuttoned the top button of his dress shirt.
