So Over You (Chicago Rebels #2)(68)

“And, what?”

“Promise me you won’t push her too hard. Let her be a teenager. Let her enjoy college and hang with friends and fall in love. Go dancing and watch Friends episodes.”

“This is why I’ve been trying to protect her. Now that everyone knows we are related, she is getting more attention.”

“It was going to come out eventually. I just worry about her. About girls like her.”

Vadim cupped her cheek and stroked his thumb along it. “You missed out on so much, Bella.”

“I suppose.”

“And now you are making up for it, greedy witch.” His hand cupped her ass and pulled her over his body.

She swatted his hand away. “Maybe we should talk.”

“I thought this was a booty call.”

He pronounced it “beauty,” which was sweet, especially as Vadim’s English was excellent and she suspected his mispronunciation was deliberate.

“I came to feed the ill, but now I’d like payment with the deep stuff. I’d like to know more about you and your life in Russia.”

“This is not a good time. I have more urgent needs, and then you can delve into my sordid history when I am weak and depleted. I need to be inside you, Bella.”

She laughed, loving how honest he was. She wasn’t sure she could ever be that honest with him, yet he had become the only person she wanted to talk to. The only person who could understand a tenth of what she was going through. So he didn’t approve of her choice to try out for Team USA, but she knew he would cheer her on if she made the grade.

“You need to sing for the right to give me an orgasm, Vadim.”

“I cannot sing.”

“Then answer a few questions.”



Vadim sighed. Isobel was relentless, and while he admired this attitude on the ice, he was not so enamored of it on unfrozen terrain.

“You may ask questions. I can’t guarantee I will answer.”

“Do you miss your father?”

He wasn’t expecting that. “Yes. He was a difficult man, but he had my best interests at heart.”

“How was he difficult?” She leaned up on her elbow.

“Like yours, he had high expectations. He wanted me to go into the family business. He thought that hockey was just a phase. But when he realized I intended to make it my life, he relented. Or, rather, he ignored it.”

“What kind of business was he in?”

“Telecommunications, tech, energy. A lot of fingers in a lot of tarts.”

She firmed her lips, clearly holding in a smile.

“Did I not say it right?”

“Pies, Vadim. A lot of fingers in a lot of pies.”

He moved his fingers between her legs. “Pies, tarts, it is all warm and welcoming and tasty.”

Grabbing his hand, she placed it outside the blanket, then wagged a finger. “Nuh-uh.”

“I know what you are doing,” he murmured.

“What I’m doing?”

“Yes, you are trying to force me to admit my father had faults so I will be sympathetic toward Victoria.”

“There are two sides to every story.”

Not to this one. “Perhaps she did not like Russian winters or she missed McDonald’s french fries—they are different in St. Petersburg, you know. Perhaps she had a hard time making friends with the wives of my father’s business associates or she did not want to put in the effort. Perhaps my father had an affair or she found someone else she loved more. Yes, there are two sides, but only one of them left me without a mother at the age of ten.”

She laid her head on his shoulder and made circles with her finger on his chest. “When she gets better,” she said, “they’ll go back to New York.”

In her words he heard her judgment: this was his chance to get all the answers he sought, if only he would not be so stubborn. He sighed, knowing the ice was starting to crack under him, yet he wasn’t ready to greet the inevitable cold rush of water.

“Mia is my future. Victoria is my past.”

“Tell me about the first time you met Mia.”

He smiled, though the memory was a mix of pleasure and pain. “It was in a hospital room in New York a couple of months after my father died. Victoria had called the day before.” No preamble, no buildup from the woman who had borne and abandoned him, and he supposed it was better that way. Her reasons for contacting him were blunt. He’d hoped his father’s death would prompt her to get in touch, now that this last barrier to her contacting him was gone. But no, not even that was enough to bring her back into his life.

“Mia looked so weak, lying there. She had only learned who I was that morning. Victoria did not want to get her hopes up until I agreed to come out and be tested as a donor.”

“You didn’t hesitate?”

“No. The blood of my ancestors runs in her veins. There was no choice for me. I was a match, and we went from there.” Angry again, he drew back from her. “My father should have met her.”

“What do you think would have happened if he’d known about her?”

He shifted to face her. “He would have welcomed her into the family. Made sure she wanted for nothing.”

“Maybe fought for custody?”

So transparent. “It would have been his right.”