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Sergei Grachyov gazed at me with inscrutable dark eyes, looking more achingly gorgeous than I allowed myself to remember. He, too, was holding an umbrella, large and sleek and obviously expensive.
Burberry,I thought dazedly. Burberry actually made umbrellas?
“Zdrastvuyte.” His ‘hello’ was spoken quietly, his narrowed gaze trained on my face.
“Zdrastvuyte,” I whispered. I knew I was acting like an idiot. Athirty-year-oldidiot, but I couldn’t help it. I also couldn’t help staring at him, even knowing that I was being obvious about it. Had he always been this tall? Had he always been this muscular? And had he always been able to make my heart hammer against my chest like it was Thor wielding it?
The silence stretched between us, making me feel terrified and desperate.Please let this be real. Please let him not be a figment of my imagination. Please.
When he started to speak again, I couldn’t help stiffening, already thinking of the worst.He would tell me he hated me. He would tell me he was here because he was looking for another lawyer at the firm, not me. He would—-
And then I heard him ask tautly, “Do you still find my presence undesirable?”
Oh.
Oh!
Tears stung my eyes as I stared at him, knowing he could have made it so much worse. He could have prolonged my misery, maybe even forced me to beg. But he hadn’t. He could have chosen to act petty and immature, the way I had, and he would have had the right to do so.
I choked out, “No.” And before he could say another word, I said brokenly, “I’m sorry.”
The billionaire’s eyes flashed. A second later and he had taken hold of my hand, his grip punishingly tight, and it was exactly the way I wanted it. He was holding on to me like he never wanted to let me go, and I held him just as tightly, feeling the same even though I would never admit it out loud.
“Come share my umbrella,” he murmured, and I didn’t even think of arguing. We started walking, holding hands like our time apart had never happened.
“Are you representing the Christakos twins now?”
I almost stumbled in shock, and I looked up at him, blurting out, “How did you know?”
He looked back at me, unsmiling. “So you are.”
I said slowly, “Yes.” I didn’t see any reason to deny it.
“And it will do no good if I ask you to turn the case over to someone else?”
“Why would you ask that?”
“I have no quarrel with them, but the party you’re up against—-”
“Abraxam Davos?”
He nodded curtly. “He’s bad news,pchelka.You must be aware that he has no qualms about having his enemies tortured and murdered.”
I gazed at him with sudden understanding, and I asked softly, “Is that why you’re here?”
“If not for Davos,” he said without hesitation, “I would have let you continue punishing yourself.”
Riiiiight.But I couldn’t deny it because it was the truth.
“If you are determined to see this through—-”
“I am.”
His lips tightened. “Then at least promise me you will take care—-”
I nodded.
“And that you will not hesitate to ask me for help if you shall have a need to do so,” he finished.