A Demonic Bundle (41 page)

Maksim watched her for a moment, then finished off the last of the melting ice cream, wondering why he wasn’t more irritated with the evening’s chain of events. He’d wanted to sleep with this woman—not watch her doze on the sofa. He’d wanted their kissing to continue, but he’d let her stop without even forcing the issue.

And he wanted her right this minute with an intensity that was a little frightening, but instead he eased off the sofa, being careful not to jar her, and put both spoons in the sink and the empty container in the trash.

He walked back in the living room and again studied her. She now slept. He supposed he should be insulted. It was bad enough she was turning him down—but clearly she was wasn’t struggling with the same raging desires he was. He wouldn’t be sleeping tonight, that was for sure.

But instead of feeling angry or resentful or even annoyed, he felt—okay. She needed her sleep. He knew that. And there was always tomorrow. It wasn’t like he was giving up. He was just giving her a break. For tonight.

He grabbed a fleece blanket from the place where it was folded on the back of the sofa, and draped it over Jo.

Then he did something he couldn’t say he’d ever done in his life. He kissed a woman’s forehead.

“Good night,” he whispered, and left the apartment.

“I
’m not ruining my marriage over this.”

Jo stared at Jackson, trying to comprehend several things all at once. Awful, confusing, heartbreaking facts that she’d refused to see.

“I’m not ruining my marriage for
you
.”

Jackson stared at her for a moment, his eyes narrowed, his mouth pursed into a thin line, looking at her as if she were nothing more than dirt marring the perfection of his ideal life. A life that included a wife and children.

How hadn’t she known? Was she really that naïve? Or had she just not wanted to see? Had she ignored the signs that were right in front of her?

Jo tried not to cry as she turned away from him and ran. But she didn’t make it far before she dashed blindly into someone. Someone tall and muscular, his arms coming around her.

She looked up. “Maksim?”

Maksim smiled at her, the crooked curl of his lips, taking her breath away. Then he kissed her. A wonderful, slow, deliciously sexy kiss. He tasted like vanilla and chocolate and need.

She wanted more of him, but he backed away from her. She held out her hand, but he kept moving away. Then he spun, walking fast, as if he wanted to get away from her as quickly as he could. She followed.

“Maksim, wait. Wait!”

He turned back to her, and he was holding a baby. A perfect apple-cheeked angel with vivid green eyes and curling wisps of dark hair. He looked down at the child, cooing to the her in his rich accented voice. He smiled at Jo and she joined him in admiring the beautiful child. Jo’s chest swelled with such happiness and intense love as she looked at Maksim and this baby together.

From behind him a woman with pale skin and black hair stepped forward to look at the infant, too, longing on her face. And Jo’s joy was replaced by a terrible sense of helplessness and despair.

Jo started to reach for Maksim, to pull him away from the other woman, to pull him toward her. But she didn’t move fast enough. Maksim drifted away from her. Away from the other woman.

Now he walked over to a girl, about ten years old, wearing a maillot bathing suit striped like a rainbow after a summer shower.

Jo couldn’t see her face; she stood sideways to her, head down, long brown hair shielded her from view. Maksim handed the baby to the girl. Then the girl turned to face Jo. She lifted her head from looking at the baby and regarded Jo with dark, heartbreaking eyes.

Surprise, then confusion, then happiness rippled over Jo, one after the other in dizzying speed.

“Kara?” Jo stepped forward, holding out her hand to touch the girl. “Kara, is that you?”

The girl backed away.

“Please, Kara.” Jo chased her, but the girl continued to drift backward.

Jo looked around wildly. “Maksim! Where are you?”

He was there, watching her. But he floated away, too, until they all faded from view like they were sinking into the depths of dark gray water.

Jo woke, gasping for air. She glanced around, trying to figure out where she was. She was on her couch. She’d been eating ice cream with Maksim and she must have fallen asleep.

Outside, the sun was just beginning to rise, banishing the shadows from her room. But not banishing the shadows of her past. Not banishing her fears.

She glanced around, looking for Maksim, but she could tell right away he was gone. And all that was left was a sharp, piercing sense of sorrow and regret and fear.

She pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, rocking slightly She tried to close in on herself, trying to keep those awful feelings at bay.

She stayed that way for minutes, for hours, she didn’t really know. Until finally, she forced herself to get ready for work.

“You look awful.”

Jo stopped unlocking the door to her office and glanced over to see Maksim, leaning against the wall, his intense green eyes taking in every detail of her appearance. She wished she could say the same for him, but as usual, he looked magnificent.

“And I was worried things would be awkward this morning,” she said wryly to his brusqueness.

“Well, you do.”

His words stung, even though she knew they were true. But what hurt worse was the sweet, considerate, tempting Maksim of last night seemed to be gone.

“I get it,” she said, shooting him a fuming glare. “Don’t you have other things to do besides critiquing my appearance?”

He didn’t respond, nor did he move. She returned her attention back to her office door and the damned key that she couldn’t seem to slide into the lock.

A large, strong hand slipped over hers, taking the key from her fingers. Jo watched, growing angrier by the moment as Maksim easily slid the key in the lock, twisted, then pushed the door open. He moved his tall frame away from her to allow her to pass.

Jo held out her hand for the key, not saying anything as he dropped it back in her hand. She walked into the office, tossing her purse onto one of the metal chairs. She flipped on the lights and then moved to put the decrepit desk between them.

Maksim stayed in the doorway, his big, powerful body taking up most of the entrance. His presence there somehow made the already tiny room feel all the smaller.

Today he wore faded jeans, which must have been his concession to the work he was doing, but she was sure they were still expensive, still brand name. The strategically worn material clung to his narrow hips and emphasized the length and muscles of his legs. He also wore a black T-shirt. Somehow the simple garment also managed to perfectly display the width of his shoulders, the muscles in his arms and chest, and the flatness of his stomach.

How was that fair? Jeans and T-shirt and he looked amazing. She’d actually bothered with makeup, a hair dryer, and hair spray. She’d even picked out her least wrinkled skirt and shirt, and she was still being told she looked awful.

“You should take the day off,” he stated, his voice still cold and slightly patronizing. His behavior hurt. Why was he acting so antagonistic? It didn’t make sense, not that she was sure she wanted Mr. Nice Guy back either.

“Well, I don’t think that’s your position to say. Besides, I can’t go home. I have a grant proposal that has a deadline of tomorrow. Not to mention, I’m fine.”

Maksim raised an eyebrow. “You don’t look fine. I take it you didn’t stay asleep after I left last night.”

She fought the urge to shush him, just in case Cherise or one of the parents were around this morning. Instead she scowled at him.

“I slept.” Some.

She dropped onto her chair, forgetting that the old piece of junk could be dicey on the best of days. But under her graceless collapse, the air hissed out of the hydraulics, and plummeted nearly to the ground. She gasped, flailing slightly as Maksim disappeared out of sight behind her computer monitor, and she was suddenly seated at eye level with the desk.

She fought back a groan. Well, that certainly helped her look together and in control, now didn’t it?

Before she could wrestle out of the awkward, lowered position, Maksim was around the desk, grasping her elbow and helping her to her feet.

Once standing, she found herself face-to-face with him. Or more like face-to-chin as he had several inches on her. And his wonderful, sensual kiss was suddenly painfully vivid in her mind.

As if he was recalling the same thing, his gaze moved to her lips, but he remained still, and Jo couldn’t read the look in his eyes.

Then the hand he had cupped around her elbow released her, and she expected him to back away. Instead the hand that just left her moved up to tuck an errant piece of hair back behind her ear. His fingertips grazed her temple.

Her breath whooshed from her at the slight touch. She stumbled back, frightened by the intensity of the longing shooting through her. He caught her again, his long fingers curling around her upper arm.

“Careful,” he said, this time his voice was low, not filled with the terseness of earlier. He tugged her back toward him. Her chest grazed his, just another brief touch, but more desire roaring through her.

“Shouldn’t you be in helping Cherise?” Jo said, grasping onto the only thing she could think of to get him away from her. She needed him away.

He glanced at her lips again, then nodded. But he didn’t move.

“Then you’d better get in there,” she managed, even though her voice sounded reedy and breathless. “You don’t want an annoyed Cherise after you.”

Jo was surprised when he released her, moving around the desk to the door. She hadn’t expected him to go so easily.

He did stop in the door, regarding her again with unreadable green eyes. “Are you really okay?”

She hesitated; her exhaustion, the abrupt change in his behavior toward her, the events of yesterday—and especially last night—were too much for her. For a second, she allowed herself to long for the support of his strong arms again, but she pushed back the moment of weakness. She didn’t understand this man, and the truth was, it didn’t matter even if she did. Her life was too complicated to include him anyway.

She nodded. “I am a little tired, but I’m fine.”

He studied her a moment longer, then left the room.

Jo heard several of the preschoolers shout, “Maksim” in adorable, childish lisps as he entered the main room.

Jo tried to ignore the way their greeting tugged at her heart, telling herself it was lack of sleep making her sentimental. Making her long for things she shouldn’t.

She leaned down and wiggled the lever under the seat of her chair, gradually getting the blasted thing back to a normal height. She eased herself down on the seat—then just sat there.

What was she doing?

What was he doing?

Maksim leaned against the wall, pretending to watch the children at play, but his thoughts couldn’t seem to leave Jo. She looked awful—pale and drawn. And even more disconcerting was the fact that he cared. And not because he was seeing this as another step in getting her into bed. He was genuinely concerned for her well-being.

It was freaking him out.

He’d gone home last night and decided this had to come to an end. He’d sat with a mortal woman, a mortal woman he wanted more than he’d ever wanted another being in his life, and he’d
just shared ice cream with her
. Then he just went home—because she’d fallen asleep. Something was really, really wrong with the whole scenario. And he wasn’t pleased with any of it.

Were these strange emotions, strange behaviors, a side effect of jumping into her unreadable mind? He was somehow bound to her or something? He didn’t know. All he knew for certain was that he wanted to be back to his usual self. Feeling—stuff—yeah, he didn’t like it.

He liked his callousness, his shallowness, his greediness. He liked being in control, and right now, Jo was in control of him. And he had to figure out a way to stop this. All of this.

He’d gone to her this morning to show to himself that he could stop this. He could push her away. He could walk away. Then he’d seen her, and he couldn’t.

Oh, he’d been rude to her, but he couldn’t keep going. She looked too exhausted, too stressed. And frankly none too happy to see him.

She didn’t like to lose control any more than he did. And something was really upsetting her. He didn’t think it was all him.

He’d considered jumping in her head again while he’d been holding her in her office, but then couldn’t bring himself to do it. He was pretty sure jumping into her mind had done some sort of damage to her. She didn’t look well—at all. And frankly, he thought the jump had done something to him, too.

“Look at this.”

Maksim blinked, glancing around. He’d completely forgotten where he was. He looked down to see Damon, the evil puker, standing in front of him with something dangling from his hand.

Maksim narrowed his eyes, trying to make out what swung there like a pendulum. All he could see was a chunky, cheaply made chain, huge against the boy’s small fingers.

Even though he knew it would be easy enough to just say, “that’s great, kid,” he found himself reaching out and catching the item. The chain was heavy in his hand, but he could see the thick links were plated with silver—maybe silver. Hanging at the end was an E encrusted with paste diamonds. Several of the crystals were missing.

“My daddy gave this to me.”

“Really?” Maksim turned the piece of heavy, hideous jewelry over in his hand. “It’s definitely something.”

Damon nodded proudly. “Yep, he sent it to me.”

Maksim nodded, dropping the aesthetically offensive item, allowing it to again swing.

“Wow, that’s nice gift. What does the E stand for? Your last name?”

Damon laughed, the sound so full of pure joy. His dark eyes twinkled. “No, silly, it’s for
excellent
!”

“Oh.” Maksim nodded as if he should have guessed that.

Damon ran off, thrilled with the cheap, damaged present. Maksim frowned, unable to imagine why such a thing would make him happy.

“Can you believe his father sent
that
to him for his birthday?” Cherise said, appearing at his side, clearly misunderstanding Maksim’s confounded look. “A five year old—and that’s what he gets from the father who has only deigned to see him once since he was born. And it’s not even a D for Damon. Or T for his last name.”