Page 76 of Royally Romanov
Gregory stood and met Maxim’s gaze. His arms were full of the hastily gathered papers, and his eyes, so full of confidence only moments ago, had gone wary.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. You’re the one who tried to kill me.” Disgust clogged Maxim’s throat. Disgust, and regret... so much regret. “I changed my mind. I started to believe I might actually be a Romanov, and when I told you I wouldn’t go along with your plan, you wanted to shut me up. Permanently.”
“Don’t tell me you still believe you’re Russian royalty.” Gregory sneered. “Not that it matters. You can’t prove I’ve done anything.”
Maxim shook his head. “I don’t need to. It’s over. All of it.”
Then he walked away before he succumbed to his urge to beat Gregory to a pulp. He was carrying around enough regret as it was.
How was he going to tell Finley what he’d done? He hadn’t gone through with the con, but early on he’d certainly intended to. Would it even matter that he’d changed his mind?
He’d remembered her because she’d been a target.Histarget. How could he touch her again, kiss her, while he carried that terrible truth in his heart? How could he have anything to do with her?
He couldn’t.
He wouldn’t.
The DNA results were no longer of any consequence. Whether or not he was a Romanov didn’t matter anymore. Maxim knew who he was now, and that man had no place in Finley Abbot’s life.
FINLEY SOMEHOW MANAGED TOmake it through the rest of the day at the Louvre.
On the outside, she was the perfect assistant curator. She worked on finalizing the details for the gala and organizing the transfer of the exhibit’s major pieces from the museum to the Palais Garnier opera house.
The infamous building was one of Finley’s favorite places in Paris. The ceiling of its theatre boasted a mural by Marc Chagall. It was the dreamiest thing she’d ever seen. The party would be held in the opera house’s stunning grand foyer, the most famous drawing room in the city. With its massive chandeliers and heavy gold-leaf detailing, it was like a slice of Versailles right in the heart of Paris. Finley could only imagine how the bejeweled Fabergé eggs would look in such opulent surroundings. They deserved to be seen in such a beautiful place.
These were her concerns on the outside. On the inside, she worried the eggs might be confiscated by a judge somewhere and never even make it to Palais Garnier.
That wouldn’t actually happen though, would it?
Everything would be fine. Once she saw Maxim again, the doubts that Madame Dubois had planted in her head would be long forgotten.
The DNA test would come back positive of course, but Maxim would put a stop to any attempts to reclaim the artwork. He was the Tsar’s grandson. He could fix the situation. There was certainly no truth to Madame Dubois’s assertions that he was using her.
Last night had been real. No man had ever touched her like that before. When she closed her eyes, she could still feel the brush of his lips against hers, the forbidden heat of his tongue on her thighs... the way she’d come apart on the piano bench, and again on the velvet bed. She could still feel him moving inside her. She’d opened herself to Maxim, and he’d done the same. He’d shown her the real him.
That had meant something. Finley knew it had.
The closer she got to Shakespeare and Company, the better she felt. But as soon as she walked through the door and saw Scott waiting for her behind the counter, she knew something was wrong.
Very wrong.
“Tell me why you have that awful look on your face.” At the sound of Finley’s voice, Gerard woke from his nap and shuffled toward her.
She squatted to greet him, absently running a hand over his smooth little head while panic gathered in her chest. Gerard’s ears didn’t prick forward the way they ordinarily did. His eyes seemed even bigger and rounder than usual.
Even her dog knew something was wrong.
“He’s not coming,” Scott said.
Like an idiot, Finley stood and asked, “Who?”
She knew good and well whom Scott was talking about, but she couldn’t accept what he was saying. She just couldn’t.
Maxim was supposed to meet her here. They were supposed to spend the night together again. He wouldn’t just disappear, not after they’d slept together.
Unless something terrible had happened.
“Finley.” Scott shook his head, and the pity in his eyes was too much for her to bear.
