Page 602 of Hell Hath No Fury
I rip off the blindfold, blinking to acclimatize to the ambient light. His dark form is nearly through the door before I catch up to him. I reach out, grabbing his shoulder and he hisses, ducking a little to remove my hand.
Even when he turns, my brain can’t quite process what it’s seeing.
Can’t wrap around the fact that my two worlds are colliding.
Then he takes a step towards me and says, “Stellichka.”
I pause, but only for a second. Then relief, despite the deception, bursts through me and I smile.
Without further hesitation, I move toward him.
EPILOGUE
Mikhail
I run a hand through my hair, then roll my eyes at my reflection in the rearview mirror. After eleven hours on shift, where the decisions I make could result in life or death, it’s opening the door and meeting a woman that has my hands damn near trembling. Gritting my teeth, I palm my phone and keys, then unfold from the SUV, already wishing I’d come up with some sort of excuse.
Might as well get in and get it over with, then I can go home and down the rest of the whiskey I’d been babysitting all week.
If Diana hadn’t cornered me, I never would have agreed to take her daughter out on a date. The last thing I want or need is to get tangled up in a relationship. No matter what everyone says, time hasn’t healed my wounds and I’m not sure I want it to. I don’t glance at my phone, but I’m tempted to, even if it’s only to pretend to look at the time. Instead, I stuff it in my pocket defiantly and head to the crosswalk toward the restaurant.
Considering how pushy Diana can be, her daughter probably didn’t have much say tonight either. We both may as well make the best of an awkward situation.
I haven’t been toBella Bella Italianoin over a year. In fact, I’ve done my best to avoid it. It wasn’t until Diana started walking away, after getting me to agree to the date that the name of the restaurant sunk in. Maybe I can convince the hostess to seat us in a quiet, secluded section where we won’t be disturbed.Then I can make some chit-chat with Diana’s daughter and make some excuse and get out without leading this girl on.
There are a variety of restaurants in Nassau, certainly plenty of Italian joints, but there’s already a crowd at the entrance. I sigh as I wait for the traffic to thin so I can cross the street. After spending all day in a crowded emergency room, the only thing I want is the slow burn of alcohol and a dark room where I can brood.
Resigned, I look to my left and right, then up again to make sure the road is clear.
That’s when I see her.
The force of my reaction flattens me against the driver’s side door, stealing my breath, and damn near stopping my heart. For a second there, I think I may need a trip back to the E.R., then I remember to breathe, though it doesn’t unpin me from the car.
I recognize her from the various pictures Diana’s flashed from time to time, beaming with pride. I’d known she was beautiful, in a kind of passing sort of way. The way you see a piece of art in a museum from the corner of your eye and appreciate it, but not care about it. In person, she’s stunning, which floors me because I haven’t even been slightly attracted to a woman in ages.
But it’s there, burning low in my stomach, in the heated flow of my blood.
And the attraction is even worse than indifference.
I glance down at the wedding band on my left hand. The one I haven’t thought of taking off in the year since I watched the woman I loved wither away from an illness I couldn’t cure.
When I look back up, Stella is making her way inside and despite my excuses and grumbling, I find myself following close behind her. Her voice is musical, throaty, and carries over the din of the restaurant conversation and white noise from the kitchen. As the hostess points her to the bar, I nod, not givingher time to ask me where I’d like to sit. For some inexplicable reason, I want to observe Stella first. Need to see her.
Then I’ll force myself to get on with the date and quite possibly my life.
She takes a seat at the bar and orders a white wine from the bartender. I navigate through the evening crowd to an empty chair on the opposite side of the bar and wave away the bartender who comes to take my order. Stella sips her wine, bringing the glass to full, red lips and tousling the lush weight of her dark curls.
A pair of women approach behind Stella as she studies her emptying glass, and my heart thuds in my chest when I recognize them as members from The Sanctum.
I give a nod to the bartender and gesture for them to bring me a tumbler of whiskey. Downing it the moment he sets it on the table, I relish the burn as it slides down my throat.
I hadn’t been to The Sanctum since Miranda died. Hadn’t wanted to see other couples blissed out in the throes of an irreplaceable connection. Hadn’t wanted to be reminded of the memories I’ve spent the past few months trying to forget.
Without thinking, I shoot off a quick text to the number Diana gave me for Stella. I can’t do this. Can’t be in the place, reminded of all I’ve lost.
Some things are irreplaceable.
I get to my feet to leave, when I see Stella caught up in conversation with Tally and another Sanctum member. Other patrons flow around me as I come to a stop in the middle of the aisle, watching as Stella follows them down the hall to a private room.
