An Obsession with Vengeance (Wanted Men Book 3) (39 page)

Still pacing, her entire body aching from the tension seizing her muscles even though she knew Andrew and Maksim were safe, Sydney whirled around when she heard the loft door bang open.

“Mom!”

Her knees nearly gave out when her son appeared in the entrance, blond hair a mess, face flushed. She couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, so he came running to her. His smile was blinding.

He slammed into her, knocking her back a couple of steps, and she held him so tightly, burying her face in his neck. She’d thought the reservoir had run dry, but more tears seeped from between her swollen lids.

“It’s okay, Mom. It’s
so
okay.”

She tightened her arms around the boy who’d been the light of her life from the moment she’d learned of his existence. He’d given her more reason to smile and laugh and live and love than anything . . . until Maksim.

Pulling back, she cupped his face and simply took him in. “Are you okay?” she whispered.

“I’m great. Really great.”

Perplexed by his enthusiasm, she gave him a watery laugh.

“Wanna know why?”

“Aside from the obvious?” She hugged him once more. “Okay.”

“Look.” He pointed to where Alek was standing at the door. He waved someone forward, an encouraging smile on his face.

And Sydney’s knees did indeed give out then. She grasped Andrew in order to stay upright and stared in shocked disbelief at Emily’s baby girl.

“Elli,” she whispered as the girl scampered across to them and practically burrowed under the skin of Sydney’s torso.

“Auntie.”

The overwhelming appreciation and love that filled her for the man who’d made this possible was difficult to take. It was too much. He was too much, just as she’d told him the other day. How had he done this?

Questions tumbled from her aching throat, and her son filled her in.

When he was finished, her mind reeled at all she’d been unaware of. Eberto was Eleanor’s
father
?
He’d
been the man Emily had spoken of, the monster she’d been terrified would find her? The one she’d run from after he’d beaten her up because she’d felt too ill to attend a party with him? Neither had known the illness had been a morning sickness that would plague Emily throughout her entire pregnancy.

“Where is he now?” she asked.

“Uh, Russia . . . well, Russia kind of took care of him,” Andrew said, his concerned gaze on Eleanor. Sydney couldn’t see if Elli returned it because she’d yet to loosen the tight hold she had around Sydney’s waist. God, she’d missed this cheerful, entertaining little thing. Though, Elli certainly didn’t seem cheerful right then, understandably, or in the mood to make anyone laugh as she’d forever done with her mother and Sydney.

Sadness tried to break through her euphoria, but Sydney didn’t allow it entry. Not today. She looked across the room to where Alek and Eva were talking. She gave Alek an inquiring look when he met her eye.
Where’s Maksim?
it said. He nodded toward the stairs.

Separating herself from the kids, she promised to only be a few minutes and headed down. She had to see him. Make sure he was okay. Had to thank him for saving her life, by saving her son’s and possibly Eleanor’s.

Now that she’d been given an opportunity she’d thought lost to her, she also had to tell him how she felt.

Even if he didn’t want to hear it.

Maksim held his Pakhan’s eyes as Vasily crossed over to where Maks was leaning against the bumper of the Hummer.

“Needed a break from all the syrup and honey?”

Vasily smiled, his shiners curving. “I like the syrup and honey. There isn’t enough of it, if you ask me.”

“Yeah.” Maks brought his attention back to the toe of his Ferragamo. “I’m on overload,” he offered by way of explanation as to why he was out here by himself. Well, Micha was hanging by the door leading up to Sydney’s loft, but that was normal, and he was unobtrusive enough that Maks didn’t resent his presence. “What the fuck is wrong with my head, Vasily?” he asked, needing another opinion. “Why can’t I accept this? I’m actually afraid to let her in. And the kid, don’t even get me started. What if . . . Fuck. I’m getting beaten down by what-ifs here.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you, Maksim,” Vasily assured him. “You’re stubborn and arrogant, and sometimes a real pain in the ass. But you’re also a beautiful, loyal person who simply has a hard time accepting the love people want to give you. The problem is, you just can’t trust it, and that’s a roadblock that’s been there since the day I met you. Which is understandable. I’d assumed Sydney had slipped through and made it in. But you’re still fighting it?”

“What I feel for her is overwhelming and too strong for me to unleash. I want to own her. I want her under me. And not just sexually anymore. I want to surround her and protect her and love her and keep her all for myself. But at the same time I want her to stay the fuck away from me.” He shrugged, shaking his head, and made a sound that was embarrassingly helpless. “I wouldn’t know how to cherish her as Gabriel does Eva. To allow her the freedom and independence Vincente allows Nika. To worship her the way Alek used to worship Sacha. I wouldn’t know how to do those things without . . . without dominating her to the point of captivity. Especially because she’d be in our world.
They
would be. The three of them. What if I begin to hate her son for his presence? Or Eleanor for hers? What if I resent them for the time they take from me and Sydney? There’s no denying I’m fucking selfish.” His brows came down. “I hadn’t thought of that until just now. Neither of those kids deserve that. Anyway, I’m fucking myself in the head, and it’s probably for nothing. I have a feeling she’s going to thank me and then tell me never to come near her again.”

Vasily chuckled, sounding as if he knew something Maks didn’t. “I think it’s normal for a parent to feel a small amount of resentment toward their children—though many wouldn’t admit to it. After all, kids take over our lives. They come first for a lot of years. But because you love them, it becomes acceptable and normal. And those overly possessive feelings you have for Sydney are based more on you not being sure of
her
feelings than anything else. If you were as secure in her love as the boys are with their women, that would most likely settle into something bearable. Love is a fucking bitch, Maks. It consumes you. And because you are who you are, it’s a disturbing, frightening thing. No doubt it’s getting to you like this because you’ve never allowed for it before.”

“That’s not true,” Maks murmured, lifting and holding his Pakhan’s gaze. “I love you. I love my boys and Tegan. I would kill for any one of you.”

“I hear you say that, I hear the truth in it, and it makes me glad I trusted my instincts the day I saw you sitting in that cell.”

Maks frowned. It wasn’t often Vasily brought up the day they met. “And what did your instincts tell you?”

His Pakhan pulled a De Niro face as he shrugged. “It’s not something I can explain. I’ve only experienced it twice. Once when I met Dmitri, and again when I met you. There was just something that wouldn’t let me walk away. And the closer I’ve gotten to you boys, every time you prove yourselves to me, I feel grateful that I was given the intuitiveness to recognize exceptional men when I saw them.” He reached out and clasped Maks’s shoulder. “But back to your fear that you’re going to suffocate Sydney with your feelings. You can’t.”

Swiftly trying to recover from being told his mentor, one he so admired, considered him an exceptional man, Maks struggled to get back on track. He did only because he didn’t want to make Vasily regret sharing.

“I don’t want to go up there and have her tell me it’s over. If they walk away from me? All of this shit building inside me will manifest into something black, and that scares the fuck out of me. How would I come back from that, Vasily?” He rubbed at the back of his neck and sighed roughly before answering his own question. “I wouldn’t.”

“Judging by the look on her face—and some information I, for once, received before you did—I don’t think that’s something you’re going to have to worry about, son.” Vasily clapped him on the shoulder and walked off as Maksim met those amethyst eyes that never failed to give him a jolt.

His exquisite little Aussie stood there, holding the door to the loft open, still wearing her lime-green dress and sexy shoes. She looked worn-out but still more beautiful to him than anything he’d ever seen. Needing her so fucking badly, he lifted his hand with his usual arrogance and waved her over by crooking three fingers. Letting the door close, she moved that sweet little body his way and came right into his open arms. He lifted her against him, and she wrapped him in an embrace that was heaven-sent, cradling his head as she buried her face in his neck.

“Thank God you’re okay,” she whispered. “Are you okay? Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you.” She kissed his cool skin and then blew him away. “I love you. I don’t care if that’s not a part of this game and you can’t give that back to me, but I need you to know that I love you so much and I’m glad you are who you are.”

Thank fuck he was leaning against his SUV because he was sure they’d have ended up on the ground had he not had the support. Flabbergasted, he braced himself before shoving off and moving them over so the Hummer would allow them some privacy. He pressed her back into the brick wall of the building next to hers and gently grabbed a hunk of her hair, exerting enough pressure to tip her head back so that she had no choice but to look him in the eye.

“Repeat that,” he commanded, using his thumb to swipe at a smudge of mascara under her right eye.

“I love you, Maksim. I love everything about you from your big, giant feet to the pewter ring around your gorgeous eyes. From your massive ego and lack of filter to your sense of loyalty and honor. I love how you make me laugh, how you make me want to cry sometimes, how you make me feel protected and special and wanted.” She pulled out of the hold he had on her hair and kissed him softly on the cheekbone. It felt sensitive, so it must have been where Eberto had landed one of his punches. “I love you for what you’ve given me in returning those kids upstairs.”

His confusion at what he was hearing dissipated. “Ah, I get it. This is appreciation morphing into—”

“No. No it isn’t,” she said quickly as he lowered her to her feet. “I am in love with you because I am in love with you. Period. I’m
grateful
to you for saving my son’s life and for bringing me Elli. But there’s a distinction.”

Madness.
“That just doesn’t compute, princess. Are you sure?” His question was dead serious. How the fuck could she love him? “How can you love me? I’m not good for you. I’m not good . . . enough . . . for you. You deserve so much better than what I could possibly bring into this. Someone . . .” He thought of the boy his mother had raised. The one he’d wished to find again after his time at the Academy. When had he stopped searching for him? “You deserve someone loving and respectful and good.”

“But that’s what I’ve found,” she said softly. “You don’t see yourself as I see you. I understand you have to be a certain way in your line of work—and I’m thankful for that today, and every other day that it keeps you safe—but it’s who you are in here”—she stroked her palm across his chest and smiled—“that captured me. That’s who I want. That thoughtful, generous man who found a little girl for me just because I missed her. That respectful man who wouldn’t take me against the wall in a public restroom because he considers me a lady. That good man that couldn’t stray because he felt committed to us even before we
were
committed.” Her bottom lip quivered, and she tightened her mouth to stop it. There was a sadness in her eyes that he had a feeling was for him rather than anything she was feeling personally. “I also very badly want that man who was so intuitive, the one who looked so deeply into me, that he saw something I wasn’t even aware of until he coaxed it out of me. I want you to coax me again and again and again.”

His brain fried at the memory of her in his bed. “But my life,” he tried, not convinced. “Being with me is dangerous. You should have picked up on that over the past couple of months.”

“I did. And . . .” A wrinkle formed in her brow, and he could see she was thinking hard. Then she met his eyes and looked determined. “Vasily told me to have faith in you, and so I will. Or, I should say, I will
continue
to have faith in you. It might be selfish and irresponsible of me, but I just can’t let you go. I will continue to trust you not to involve me or the kids in any situations you might think harmful.” She stoked his jaw. “And before you try again, just know I will argue every point you make. Nothing you say will change anything. Certainly not how I feel. Please accept that. Accept me. Don’t shut me out, Russia. Not now that you’ve made me love you.”

She waited. And waited. While he processed.

“I never thought to have this,” he eventually said.

“What?”

“Feeling as I do makes me vulnerable. You’ve given me an Achilles’. Aside from my boys, which is a different thing altogether, I’ve never had one. Now I have two. Possibly three.”