All the Lies We Tell (Quarry Road #1)(64)

There’d been no guilt or anxiety when she got to the hotel, but some combination of unease was rising within her now. Nikolai was far from a stranger to her. They’d known each other for nearly their entire lives. Yet now in the aftermath of that fantastic sex, all she could think about was how little she knew him.

“I should go,” she said.

Nikolai rolled to put a hand on her hip, keeping her in place. “Why? I have the room until the morning. We can watch a movie. Order takeout. You don’t have anyone waiting for you at home that you have to answer to.”

“You might,” she said.

“Nobody I have to answer to.” He took her hand and ran it along the path her fingertips had earlier traced over his body. “Alicia. You don’t have to go.”

She shifted to trace the small wounds she’d left behind. She didn’t want to cut him any deeper than this. She didn’t want to get cut.

“This isn’t what this is supposed to be,” she told him. “Remember? It’s just this thing between us until you head out again. When is that going to be, by the way?”

He shifted onto his back, putting an inch or so of distance between them. “I had eight weeks of grievance leave and sabbatical time. So . . . not for another few weeks.”

“But you are going.” She kept herself from touching him again for the simple reason that she wanted to. “I mean, you will be.”

“Sure,” he said after a second or two of silence. “Yeah.”

Some time had passed, and she thought he might’ve fallen asleep, but when she looked at him, Nikolai was staring at the ceiling. He’d placed his hands on his chest, one over the other. Like a mummy. It was how he’d always slept, she remembered from the long-ago sleepovers.

“You asked me what I regretted,” Nikolai replied without looking at her.

“I asked you if. Not what.”

He closed his eyes for a second, then opened them to stare again upward. “Well, I did, and you should know what it was.”

“I don’t need to.” She moved to get off the bed, but his hand whipped out and snagged her wrist, stopping her. “Nikolai, I don’t want to.”

He looked at her and pushed up on his elbow. “I regretted hurting you.”

Alicia drew a breath. Then another. She wanted to look away from him, but did not.

“Which time?” she asked, an edge in her voice she wished she’d been able to control, if only so he wouldn’t have the satisfaction of hearing it.

Nikolai frowned. “Every time. Every damned time.”

She hadn’t known it was exactly what she needed him to say until he’d said it. Before she could answer him, he pulled her close to kiss her again. It didn’t linger, but it was sweeter for the brevity.

“Stay,” Nikolai said.

She did.





CHAPTER THIRTY


The phone had rung so many times Theresa was sure he wasn’t going to answer it. She wasn’t going to leave another voicemail. Not after the four or five she’d already left.

“Yeah?”

“Ilya, it’s Theresa.” She started talking before he could answer, not wanting to give him a chance to speak. “I know you’ve spoken to Alicia about this offer. I want to talk to you about it.”

“I already told her the same thing I’m going to tell you,” he said. “The answer is no. And, also, right now I’m staring out at a beach and the ocean, so this is the last thing in the world I want to talk about.”

“Wait! Please,” she added, softer. “When will you be back?”

There was silence, and she was sure he was going to disconnect, but after a long, disgruntled sigh, Ilya said, “The end of next week.”

“Will you at least meet with me? You and Alicia. I can outline all the plans and what will happen—”

“None of that matters. You can tell me whatever you want, but you know as well as I do that once they get the property, they’ll do whatever they want with it.”

“I can make sure the contracts are written in your favor,” she said, her fingers crossing that she could make that be true.

Ilya made another of those noises. “What’s your deal with this project, anyway?”

“It’s a lot of money. I work on commission.” He didn’t need to know why she needed the money, what she intended to do with it. That was her business, not his.

“I don’t want to talk about this now, Theresa. I’m about to head out into clean, warm water and look at beautiful things. And I don’t just mean the fish, I meant the women in bikinis,” Ilya said.

Theresa felt herself grimace, though why should she care what—or who—Ilya Stern did? It was the way he said it, like he was trying to rub her face in it for some reason. She wasn’t going to let it get to her.

“Just say you’ll meet with me and Alicia when you get back,” she said.

“Fine. If it will get you both off my case. I gotta go,” he said again, and hung up.

Maybe it was because he felt bad about what had happened in their family so many years ago. A guilt that had nothing to do with him, but one she would exploit to get what she needed. She didn’t have to be proud of herself. She just needed to get him to agree to do it.