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Chapter Ten

Carys

I ’m on my third glass of vodka in the quaint restaurant down the street from the hotel my family frequents in Volgograd. The place is a bit of a dive bar, grungy even, but I love the Russian food. Their kebabs are exceptional. If the man across the table from me wasn’t so distracting, I’d be in heaven.

We’ve barely said two words to each other since we were seated and ordered. I’m praying for our meals to come faster even as I gulp more vodka. Drinking this much is a mistake, but I can’t stop myself. Liquid courage .

“What are you thinking about?” As soon as the question leaves my mouth, I curse the alcohol. The stupidest, most girly ask in the world.

The vinyl on the chair squeaks when Finn leans back and crosses his arms. “Trying to puzzle out your employee.”

“Valeriya?”

He raises his eyebrows.

Another stupid question. More vodka makes its way past my lips.

“Who has more clout than you?” He picks up his drink. His pain must be substantial because he took painkillers and opted for water instead of alcohol. Weirdly responsible.

“In Russia?” I reply. “Pretty much everyone. I’m a small fish here.”

The ice in Finn’s water clinks together as he rotates his glass. “Do you suspect your father? Could he be the reason for the theft?”

“My father?” I rear back, my glass dangling from my fingers. Wasn’t my first idea when I found out. In fact, he would be one of the last people I’d accuse.

“Charles never liked to play by the rules.” Finn stays focused on the swirling water.

“He’s retired.”

He glances up at me. “He never sticks his nose in? Never once had remorse over giving up control?”

My glass clatters, almost tumbling from my fingers when I lean across the table. Jay rises from his seat near the door, but I wave him down without diverting my attention from the man in front of me. “My father is a lot of things, but he wouldn’t force me into this position.”

“He used to enjoy testing you—giving you impossible tasks, seeing how you’d get out.”

“And your father used to set a gun in your hand and tell you real men kill people who get in their way.”

Finn grabs my drink from me. He teeters on the legs of his chair and puts my liquid courage on the table behind him. The cheap white tablecloth shifts as he pushes the glass along the top. We’re the only people in here. The waitress, who is coming out of the kitchen with our food, gives me a puzzled look but continues to our table, the food held high on a platter over her head.

“Give me my drink,” I say.

“You’re drunk, and you’re bringing up shit that will piss me off. You’re done drinking.”

The waitress sets Finn’s food in front of him and then passes me mine.

“Another drink?” She indicates the almost-empty glass behind Finn.

“Yes.”

“No.” Finn’s voice drowns out mine, and he’s far more intimidating than me.

She scurries away. She’d better bring my drink.

We eat in silence for a moment before I throw back my chair, storm around him, grab the glass, and chug the last bit.

When I pass him, he snakes his arm out to my waist and tugs me into his lap. Our eyes connect and my breath catches in my throat. The slightest movement forward will reunite our lips, put me out of my misery. He’s hard beneath me, straining to be released. “You need to stop drinking.”

“Why?” My gaze flicks up to meet his and then I focus on his lips, willing him to close the distance.

“We agreed months ago we weren’t doing this.” His voice is gruff, and he’s so still beneath me I wonder if, like me, he’s afraid to move.

“Did we?” The words are whispered between us. My fingertips brush his brow.

“You’re right. You said we weren’t doing this again.”

“Maybe I misspoke.”

“You’re drunk.”

“I am.”

Finn shakes his head. “You want no-strings sex? I’m game.” He slides his hand into my hair, loosening my bun. “But I’m not fucking you while you’re drunk.” Finn brings my forehead to his. “I don’t want to be a regret in the morning when you’re sober. Not again.”

“What I said to you that morning—”

“Doesn’t matter if you meant it. You said it. Not again. We do this, you make the choice stone-cold sober and you understand it’s just physical.”

I climb off his lap and stand, straightening my clothes. His words shouldn’t burn. But they do. A hot iron pressed against my heart. I sink into my chair on the other side of the table and pick up my kebab, pulling it apart with my fork and fingers. The silence between us is all-consuming.

“You don’t want me, Carys.”

With an annoyed sound, I drop my fork, letting it clatter onto my plate. “I’m old enough to decide what I want.”

“Okay,” he says while he chews. “What do you want?”

An excellent question. One I haven’t let myself consider too closely. On a very immediate level, I want to get laid, by him, and the sooner the better. Beyond that? I can’t say for sure. A long time ago, I wanted so much more, first from Finn, then from Eric, but I couldn’t secure the connection. I would be so close, and happiness would slip away. So, I stopped hoping, stopped wanting.

“Come on. If you’re old enough to know what you want, spit it out.” Finn sets his fork on his plate and leans closer. “You want me to clear this table? Fuck you on it while Jay watches?”

Yes.

“You want me to take you back to our hotel and show you the ways your body can come for me? Is that what you want?”

Yes. The idea makes my legs tremble with desire. “Don’t be an asshole.”

“I’m just asking. ’Cause for someone who is old enough to decide what she wants, you’ve been confusing the hell out of me.”

“What I said in Boston—”

“Nah, I want to talk to sober Carys. That’s the person I’m interested in right now. Drunk Carys is horny as fuck and hunting for a way to get off.”

“Screw you, Finn.”

His mouth quirks up, and he gives me a told-you-so smirk.

“God, you’re so infuriating. Why couldn’t you have sex with me without being an asshole about it?”

“Tomorrow morning, I’m all yours.” He throws out his hands. “Tonight—you’re gonna sleep it off alone. You realize what’ll happen tomorrow? You’ll go back to skirting around me.” He makes a walking motion with his fingers. “Pretend like this conversation didn’t happen.”

“Maybe I won’t.” But my resolve slips. I want him, but I don’t want the complications from having him.

“You will. It’s safer that way.”

When the waitress appears behind Finn, I say, “Can we get the check, please? I think we’re done here.”