Chapter 22
Deva had soaked for so long in the incredibly hot bath, she was certain even her internal organs were pruning. Relaxing in the luxurious bathroom, letting the water slowly cool down was a gift, an opportunity that allowed her to feel more and more like her old self again. Her body wasn’t restless anymore, and her brain was finally starting to get into gear.
One by one, Deva replayed the events of the last few days, what had happened and especially the words that were said. The words of her father struck her the most. About patience. And God knew her father wasn’t a patient man. What would motivate him to be so patient? And for whom?
And Finch? He talked about being played like a pawn. The man might be a megalomaniac, but he was first and foremost a planner. And he was planning the biggest coup of it all. But what was it?
Something wasn’t panning out. Every mob organization, every syndicate, even the MCs never did anything without a reward at the end. Money, more power, territory. Finch wanted some of those things, she was certain of it.
There was no way any of the syndicates would let go of what they had already acquired. It was a perpetual war between them; an outsider would never be able to have that kind of leverage and power. It was laughable.
A pawn. Patience. Both words whirled in her head. There was the link. There was where she needed to dig.
Shivering, she realized that the bath water was now cold. How long had she been soaking?
Deva used one of the thick towels to rub her skin to warm up and wrapped it around her middle before going into the bedroom. Brushing her hair, she looked around. It was so silent, she wondered what Aleksei had been doing all that time. Her first answer was the piles of neatly folded clothes on the bed. Jeans, t-shirts, blouses, and assorted underwear. And in a corner, a few pairs of shoes. That Trent was an efficient man, and she was even more impressed to see that everything seemed to be to her size.
It was late now, and she opted for a long sleeping gown in a beautiful blush color, made of cotton and lace. Deva wondered if it was Trent’s idea or if Aleksei had suggested it.
The doors of the room were closed, so she opened them slowly. Aleksei was lying on the couch. Even if the piece of furniture looked immense, it appeared small with the Russian sprawled over it. He looked to be sleeping, wearing only pajama pants, his chiseled, inked body on display. It was fascinating to see the symbols on his skin, each of them curving over his muscles. Others seemed alive when he breathed slowly. So peaceful, his beautiful face in need of a shave, his black hair tousled and tempting to the touch. She could have looked at him for hours, undisturbed, but seeing him like that made her fingers itch. Heat pooled between her legs, and she squeezed her thighs together, trying in vain to alleviate the tension.
Even though she was silent, she must have alerted him somehow as he opened his eyes, his mercury gaze on her. She expected to see the come-on look or the sarcastic twist on his mouth. Instead, she saw something deeper, hotter, softer.
“Are you alright? You were awfully long in that bathroom.” He stretched and sat in front of her, his elbows on his knees, rubbing his face.
“Sorry, I should have thought you would like to clean up too.”
He shook his head. “No worries. I commandeered the next room for a quick shower with Trent’s help.”
“Trent is one efficient man.” Deva looked down at herself. “And he has very good taste. It’s really pretty.”
Aleksei stood up and took a few steps in her direction. “You look beautiful. How are you feeling?”
“Better. Thanks. I guess that a cold combined with lack of sleep, being chased, and shooting my father affected me somehow. A little at least.”
Nodding, he turned and pointed at the table by the window. “I ordered food if you are hungry.”
Deva smiled, but instead of going to the table she went to stand toe-to-toe with him. “Thank you. For everything. I’m very sincere and grateful so don’t take my next question the wrong way. But why? Why help me? It cost you whatever investigation you had going on with your father. And now, I can guarantee you that my father will remember your face for the rest of his unnatural life.”
“You helped me too. Without everything that you have done for me, the sleepless nights to get me back on my feet, I would have lost that fight. Maybe worse.”
“You did lose. All the time you invested, why you got close to Finch, whatever it may be, all the pain...”
Aleksei cupped her cheek, his fingers tracing her jaw. “I made a decision, Deva. That’s all.”
Unable to keep it inside, she finally asked the question that was burning her. “Why did you fight? You never told me. You could have found another way to get close to Finch.”
Avoiding her gaze, he only shook his head, never ceasing touching her skin. Deva felt him withdrawing and couldn’t bear it. Instantly, her hand searched his warm skin and her fingers pressed against his sternum.
“I shouldn’t want you. I shouldn’t bring you deeper into this mess.”
Without looking at her, he mimicked her hand, and gently let his hand linger in between her breasts. “I’ve fought most of my life. I don’t know living without being in a mess. And yours is the first mess I like, Deva.”
“Why?”
Ever so slowly, he traced his way back to her face and made her look at him. Mesmerized, she fell into his stormy gaze. His head lowered to hers and only a hair’s breadth away from her lips, he answered her.
“Because you are in it.”
