Luring A Lady
Page 34
"Hi." Sydney's face brightened the moment she saw him. She carried a garment bag in one hand and a bottle of champagne in the other. "Something smells wonderful. My mouth started watering on the third floor, and…" She spotted Keely standing near the worktable with a bowl cupped in her hands. "Hello." After clearing her throat, Sydney told herself she would not be embarrassed to have Mikhail's neighbor see her coming into his apartment with a suitcase.
"Hi. I was just going." Every bit as uncomfortable as Sydney, Keely darted back into the kitchen to grab her soft drink.
"It's nice to see you again." Sydney stood awkwardly beside the open door. "How did your murder go?"
"He strangled me in three takes." With a fleeting smile, she dashed through the door. "Enjoy your dinner. Thanks, Mik."
When the door down the hall slammed shut, Sydney let out a long breath. "Does she always move so fast?"
"Mostly." He circled Sydney's waist with his hands. "She is worried you will seduce me, use me, then toss me aside."
"Oh, well, really."
Chuckling, he nipped at her bottom lip. "I don't mind the first two." As his mouth settled more truly on hers, he slipped the garment bag out of her lax fingers and tossed it aside. Taking the bottle of wine, he used it to push the door closed at her back. "I like your dress. You look like a rose in sunshine."
Freed, her hands could roam along his back, slip under the chambray work shirt he hadn't tucked into his jeans. "I like the way you look, all the time."
His lips were curved as they pressed to her throat. "You're hungry?"
"Mmm. Past hungry. I had to skip lunch."
"Ten minutes," he promised, and reluctantly released her. If he didn't, dinner would be much, much later. "What have you brought us?" He twisted the bottle in his hand to study the label. One dark brow lifted. "This will humble my goulash."
With her eyes shut, Sydney took a long, appreciative sniff. "No, I don't think so." Then she laughed and took the bottle from him. "I wanted to celebrate. I had a really good day."
"You will tell me?"
"Yes."
"Good. Let's find some glasses that won't embarrass this champagne."
She didn't know when she'd been more charmed. He had set a small table and two chairs on the tiny balcony off the bedroom. A single pink peony graced an old green bottle in the center, and music drifted from his radio to lull the sounds of traffic. Thick blue bowls held the spicy stew, and rich black bread was heaped in a wicker basket.
While they ate, she told him about her decision to promote Janine, and her altercation with Lloyd.
"You ask for his resignation. You should fire him."
"It's a little more complicated than that." Flushed with success, Sydney lifted her glass to study the wine in the evening sunlight. "But the result's the same. If he pushes me, I'll have to go before the board. I have memos, other documentation. Take this building, for example." She tapped a finger on the old brick. "My grandfather turned it over to Lloyd more than a year ago with a request that he see to tenant demands and maintenance. You know the rest."
"Then perhaps I am grateful to him." He reached up to tuck her hair behind her ear, placing his lips just beneath the jet drops she wore. "If he had been honest and efficient, I wouldn't have had to be rude in your office. You might not be here with me tonight."
Taking his hand, she pressed it to her cheek. "Maybe I should have given him a raise." She turned her lips into his palm, amazed at how easy it had become for her to show her feelings.
"No. Instead, we'll think this was destiny. I don't like someone that close who would like to hurt you."
"I know he leaked Mrs. Wolburg's story to the press." Worked up again, Sydney broke off a hunk of bread. "His anger toward me caused him to put Hayward in a very unstable position. I won't tolerate that, and neither will the board."
"You'll fix it." He split the last of the champagne between them.
"Yes, I will." She was looking out over the neighborhood, seeing the clothes hung on lines to dry in the sun, the open windows where people could be seen walking by or sitting in front of televisions. There were children on the sidewalk taking advantage of a long summer day. When Mikhail's hand reached for hers, she gripped it tightly.
"Today, for the first time," she said quietly, "I felt in charge. My whole life I went along with what I was told was best or proper or expected." Catching herself, she shook her head. "That doesn't matter. What matters is that sometime over the last few months I started to realize that to be in charge meant you had to take charge. I finally did. I don't know if you can understand how that feels."
"I know what I see. And this is a woman who is beginning to trust herself, and take what is right for her." Smiling, he skimmed a finger down her cheek. "Take me."
She turned to him. He was less than an arm's length away. Those dark, untamed looks would have set any woman's heart leaping. But there was more happening to her than an excited pulse. She was afraid to consider it. There was only now, she reminded herself, and reached for him. He held her, rubbing his cheek against her hair, murmuring lovely words she couldn't understand.
"I'll have to get a phrase book." Her eyes closed on a sigh as his mouth roamed over her face.
"This one is easy." He repeated a phrase between kisses.
She laughed, moving willingly when he drew her to her feet. "Easy for you to say. What does it mean?"
His lips touched hers again. "I love you."
He watched her eyes fly open, saw the race of emotion in them run from shock to hope to panic. "Mikhail, I—"
"Why do the words frighten you?" he interrupted. "Love doesn't threaten."
"I didn't expect this." She put a hand to his chest to insure some distance. Eyes darkening, Mikhail looked down at it, then stepped back.
"What did you expect?"
"I thought you were…" Was there no delicate way? "I assumed that you…"
"Wanted only your body," he finished for her, and his voice heated. He had shown her so much, and she saw so little. "I do want it, but not only. Will you tell me there was nothing last night?"
"Hi. I was just going." Every bit as uncomfortable as Sydney, Keely darted back into the kitchen to grab her soft drink.
"It's nice to see you again." Sydney stood awkwardly beside the open door. "How did your murder go?"
"He strangled me in three takes." With a fleeting smile, she dashed through the door. "Enjoy your dinner. Thanks, Mik."
When the door down the hall slammed shut, Sydney let out a long breath. "Does she always move so fast?"
"Mostly." He circled Sydney's waist with his hands. "She is worried you will seduce me, use me, then toss me aside."
"Oh, well, really."
Chuckling, he nipped at her bottom lip. "I don't mind the first two." As his mouth settled more truly on hers, he slipped the garment bag out of her lax fingers and tossed it aside. Taking the bottle of wine, he used it to push the door closed at her back. "I like your dress. You look like a rose in sunshine."
Freed, her hands could roam along his back, slip under the chambray work shirt he hadn't tucked into his jeans. "I like the way you look, all the time."
His lips were curved as they pressed to her throat. "You're hungry?"
"Mmm. Past hungry. I had to skip lunch."
"Ten minutes," he promised, and reluctantly released her. If he didn't, dinner would be much, much later. "What have you brought us?" He twisted the bottle in his hand to study the label. One dark brow lifted. "This will humble my goulash."
With her eyes shut, Sydney took a long, appreciative sniff. "No, I don't think so." Then she laughed and took the bottle from him. "I wanted to celebrate. I had a really good day."
"You will tell me?"
"Yes."
"Good. Let's find some glasses that won't embarrass this champagne."
She didn't know when she'd been more charmed. He had set a small table and two chairs on the tiny balcony off the bedroom. A single pink peony graced an old green bottle in the center, and music drifted from his radio to lull the sounds of traffic. Thick blue bowls held the spicy stew, and rich black bread was heaped in a wicker basket.
While they ate, she told him about her decision to promote Janine, and her altercation with Lloyd.
"You ask for his resignation. You should fire him."
"It's a little more complicated than that." Flushed with success, Sydney lifted her glass to study the wine in the evening sunlight. "But the result's the same. If he pushes me, I'll have to go before the board. I have memos, other documentation. Take this building, for example." She tapped a finger on the old brick. "My grandfather turned it over to Lloyd more than a year ago with a request that he see to tenant demands and maintenance. You know the rest."
"Then perhaps I am grateful to him." He reached up to tuck her hair behind her ear, placing his lips just beneath the jet drops she wore. "If he had been honest and efficient, I wouldn't have had to be rude in your office. You might not be here with me tonight."
Taking his hand, she pressed it to her cheek. "Maybe I should have given him a raise." She turned her lips into his palm, amazed at how easy it had become for her to show her feelings.
"No. Instead, we'll think this was destiny. I don't like someone that close who would like to hurt you."
"I know he leaked Mrs. Wolburg's story to the press." Worked up again, Sydney broke off a hunk of bread. "His anger toward me caused him to put Hayward in a very unstable position. I won't tolerate that, and neither will the board."
"You'll fix it." He split the last of the champagne between them.
"Yes, I will." She was looking out over the neighborhood, seeing the clothes hung on lines to dry in the sun, the open windows where people could be seen walking by or sitting in front of televisions. There were children on the sidewalk taking advantage of a long summer day. When Mikhail's hand reached for hers, she gripped it tightly.
"Today, for the first time," she said quietly, "I felt in charge. My whole life I went along with what I was told was best or proper or expected." Catching herself, she shook her head. "That doesn't matter. What matters is that sometime over the last few months I started to realize that to be in charge meant you had to take charge. I finally did. I don't know if you can understand how that feels."
"I know what I see. And this is a woman who is beginning to trust herself, and take what is right for her." Smiling, he skimmed a finger down her cheek. "Take me."
She turned to him. He was less than an arm's length away. Those dark, untamed looks would have set any woman's heart leaping. But there was more happening to her than an excited pulse. She was afraid to consider it. There was only now, she reminded herself, and reached for him. He held her, rubbing his cheek against her hair, murmuring lovely words she couldn't understand.
"I'll have to get a phrase book." Her eyes closed on a sigh as his mouth roamed over her face.
"This one is easy." He repeated a phrase between kisses.
She laughed, moving willingly when he drew her to her feet. "Easy for you to say. What does it mean?"
His lips touched hers again. "I love you."
He watched her eyes fly open, saw the race of emotion in them run from shock to hope to panic. "Mikhail, I—"
"Why do the words frighten you?" he interrupted. "Love doesn't threaten."
"I didn't expect this." She put a hand to his chest to insure some distance. Eyes darkening, Mikhail looked down at it, then stepped back.
"What did you expect?"
"I thought you were…" Was there no delicate way? "I assumed that you…"
"Wanted only your body," he finished for her, and his voice heated. He had shown her so much, and she saw so little. "I do want it, but not only. Will you tell me there was nothing last night?"
