Page 95 of Beautiful Enemy

“You would risk your reputation in this?”

“Yes.”

“Then have her meet me this afternoon. We can discuss it.”

Grim satisfaction grips me. I have no doubt Rae will convince him.

“I’m surprised you’re not with her now.”

Seeing Mischa looming over her at Debajo set a cold fury loose in me I haven’t felt since my parents died.

I wanted to kill him.

But I wanted to save her more.

The irony didn’t escape me, because it was my fault she was hurt. Mischa heard me admit to Christian that… what? I care for her?

He overestimated what I meant and went after her.

Or he didn’t overestimate it.

All I knew was I needed to get her home, to make sure she was safe and comfortable.

But when I took her upstairs, the girl from the club slowly melted away, replaced with the woman I’ve come to admire and appreciate and fucking hunger for.

I had no right to ask her for anything, but her raw response ripped away what was left of my control.

“I’ll be with her soon,” I promise Christian, picturing her asleep in my bed now.

I’ll make it up to her—last night, and everything else I’ve done.

Including how I claimed her against the wall in a furious, graceless rush.

There are countless ways I’ve imagined being with her, a thousand temptations to explore together that would take more than a single night, not to mention a single hour, to enjoy.

Her term at Debajo is concluded. On paper, we might be finished.

In reality…

We’re far from it. And now I have a reason to keep her here while we figure that out.

I start for the door, but Christian’s voice interrupts me. “Is that what you came to say?”

I pause. “If things escalate with Mischa,” I say, “know that I wasn’t the one who initiated. Since school, we’ve kept things civilized. But I want La Mer. And if he won’t play by the rules, I can’t promise to.”

“Breaking the rules. You come by it honestly.”

I frown, ripples of discontent making me turn back. “Tell me what you meant about my father yesterday.”

The older man crosses to the windows, peering out into the bright morning. “He’s not the paragon of virtue you seem to think.”

“My parents were above reproach. The second they learned about the drugs and other activities the Ivanov family was running behind the scenes, they wanted out. They would’ve died rather than supporting that kind of evil.”

In the end, they did.

But Christian’s silence is unsettling.

“You idolized them,” he says at last. “It’s dangerous to paint anyone as more than human. Particularly those we love.”

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