Page 55 of Savage Vows
“You don’t owe me an apology,” I say quietly, but I don’t pull away.
For a moment we just move with the music, the conversation and lights fading around us. Then I find my opening—something Bella mentioned about Maksim’s newest club by the river.
“I heard your club is the place to be now,” I say, like it’s nothing. “Bella couldn’t stop talking about the new VIP section last time she was in town. Sounds like you’ve made it exclusive.”
He almost smiles, some of his usual charm returning. “She likes to exaggerate.”
“So it’s not true? No velvet ropes, no special bands at the door?”
Maksim shrugs. “There are bands, but it’s mostly for crowd control. And to make people feel important, you know how it is.”
I nod, as if I’ve seen it a hundred times. “Different faces at the door now too? Bella said the bouncers look like they came off a wrestling team.”
He cocks his head. “Bella was at the club?”
I bite my lip. Shit, shouldn’t have pushed my luck like that.
“Yeah, she was there with a couple of friends, she said she didn’t see you. Did you get a new partner?” I make a venture.
He laughs quietly, but there’s a flicker of something cautious. “Yeah, we hired a new company this year. Safer that way. Less family, more professionals. Besides, my partner Remik is great.”
“Probably for the best,” I say, letting him think I’m just making conversation, but mentally I’m making a note to find out more about Remik.
“You should come by sometime,” he says suddenly.
I look at him. Now this is the opening I’ve been looking for.
“Really?
He looks down, his guilt showing again. “If I could’ve helped…if I’d known?—”
I shake my head, letting the topic slip away. “It’s done now.”
He watches me a moment longer, almost searching for something else he should say, then just gives my hand a gentle squeeze.
“Just be careful,” he says, voice dropping. “Not everyone’s as happy to see you back as I am.”
I frown, not sure what he’s getting at.What’s that supposed to mean?I want to ask, but before I can, something catches my eye—Larisa, gliding up to Dante at the edge of the dance floor. She’s all practiced ease, reaching for his arm, pressing too close. Dante looks right at me as he lets her. I feel heat crawl up my neck, my stomach twisting tight.
I tell myself to breathe. It doesn’t help.
Maksim follows my line of sight. His voice lowers, easy and kind. “Careful. Jealousy is a poor look on you.”
“I’m not jealous,” I say.
He studies me a beat. “I know the look,” he says quietly. “You used to look at me that way.”
The floor shifts under my feet. “You knew?”
He gives a small, rueful smile. “I had an idea.”
Before I can decide what to do with that, a steward touches his sleeve. “Sir, they are ready for you.”
I hold Maksim’s look a second longer, then let him go when the steward tugs him away. When I turn back, Dante is still at thegallery rail. Larisa tilts toward him, pale and polished, saying something that makes other people lean in. He rests a hand on her arm, casual, almost polite. He doesn’t stop watching me.
Fine.
I refuse to feed it. I drift off the floor, lift a glass of water from a passing tray, and breathe until the heat in my chest cools. Screw him. Let him perform for the room. I have other work to do.
