Page 174 of Wicked Proposal

Anything to keep my mind off what I’m about to do.

Because, tomorrow, I will lose Mia Winters forever.

54

MIA

Yulian doesn’t say a word the whole way to Manhattan.

It’s unnerving. More than that, ithurts.I have no idea what I’ve done to piss him off, but here we are, stuck in the same cold silence.

Maybe it’s not about you,says the voice at the back of my mind, not without a touch of mockery.Maybe it’s about Nikita.

Right. Nikita. She was the one Yulian was supposed to take to Brad’s wedding last summer. Now that she’s back…

Does he even need you anymore?

I tell myself it’s not true. That my mind is just being mean to me. After all, didn’t Yulian say so himself? Last night, in his bedroom, his face inches away from mine?

You tell me. Am I toying with you right now?

The truth is, I’ve got no fucking clue.

I told him things I’d never told anyone. Opened my heart to him like I hadn’t in forever. More than that, he’s opened up to me,too. He’s laid his bloody history at my feet and trusted I wouldn’t trample it, that I wouldn’t turn his vulnerability into a weapon.

It was huge.

Itmattered.

I’ve dreamed of his lips more times than I can count. And I could see it in his eyes, last night, that he was dreaming of mine.

But what if none of that is enough anymore?

I hate this burning pit of jealousy. I’ve never been this person, this needy, insecure girl. But I’m quickly discovering how good Yulian is at pulling out sides of me I hadn’t been aware of.

“How…” I swallow around a dry throat. “How is Nikita?”

It feels hypocritical to ask, after the direction my thoughts just took. But Nikita wasmy patient, however briefly. Part of me can’t help worrying about her. I may have been suspended from the hospital, but some habits are hard to break.

No matter what, I’m still a nurse. A caregiver at heart.

Yulian’s gaze flicks to mine. The gray of his irises is flat, unreadable, a steely mirror to mine. It betrays nothing. “She’s fine.”

“That’s a pretty curt diagnosis.” I try to laugh, but it comes out brittle. “Gonna need a little more to work on, Dr. Lozhkin.”

His lips quirk imperceptibly. That precious dimple of his makes a late appearance, filling my chest with unexpected hope. “You drive a hard bargain, Nurse Winters.”

“What can I say? I’m the bane of every hospital.”

“Then it’s a good thing we’re not in one.”

His body leans into mine reflexively as he speaks. I lose myself to the warmth radiating through his suit, the husky notes of his voice rumbling through me. His cologne, always so present everywhere he goes.

“She woke up,” he says. “Demanded a milkshake. Took my blender hostage.”

Relief seeps through me. The way it was looking last night, I kept fearing the worst. Couldn’t sleep a wink all night, caught between worry for my patient and other, less noble types of thoughts.

“Good. That means she’s recovering well. It wasn’t a given she’d still be able to swallow on her own.”