Where the Sun Hides (Seasons of Betrayal #1) (14 page)

“You’re acting stiff. Why?”

“You’re not worried, not even a little?” she asked. She
wasn’t ready to admit that she actually thought she
liked
him—not even
to herself.

Withdrawing his hand, Kaz seemed to study her before giving
an answer. “I’m cautious by nature, Violet, but that doesn’t mean I’m
foolproof. So of course, there’s a part of me that wonders what will happen if
someone walks in here, but what is life without risks? I’m willing to risk it.”

And more
, Violet thought. While
she wasn’t completely sure of what her father was capable of, she knew if he
ever caught her with Kaz, it wouldn’t end well for him.

“Are you telling me to relax?”

Kaz winked. “Live a little,
krasivaya
.”

Violet couldn’t help but notice how that Russian word
seemed a lot more affectionate than the one he had called her earlier—whatever
it was.

“What does that mean?” she dared to ask.

For the first time, he managed to look slightly
uncomfortable. “It’s a term of endearment.”

“That doesn’t tell me what it means.”

Kaz chuckled. “Good, you’re quick, too.”

Violet pretended like he hadn’t said that. “Stop
deflecting. Why won’t you tell me what it means?”

“It’s not that I won’t. It means you’re a beauty, or
beautiful. Take it either way, depending on how it’s used and said.”

Oh.

Violet hadn’t thought it would mean that. “And the other
thing?”

Kaz eyed her from the side. “I didn’t—”

“You did. Before you put your hands around my throat.”

His lip curled up at the side as he said, “Can I just
apologize for that one without an explanation?”

“Not now.”

Kaz sighed heavily. “Bitch.”

Violet tried not to glare—she really did.

And failed.

“I’m sorry,” Kaz said quickly.

Violet wasn’t sure it helped. “So basically you called me a
spoiled, rich bitch.”

“And now I’m taking you out to eat. Do you see how these
things work out?”

“You called me a
bitch
and then you kissed me,” she
muttered.

“You’re not making this easy right now,” he replied.

“No one ever said I was easy, Kaz.”

Kaz laughed, deep and heady. “Fair enough. I am sorry.”

“I’m not sure that’s enough …”

“What do you want, then?” he asked, resting his elbows on
the table as he leaned toward her. “What can I do to make it up to you?”

She matched his posture. “What are you offering?”

Kaz smiled and the sight of it, so brilliant and open, made
her return it. “Ah, there’s the Gallucci in you.”

Usually there was some derision to his tone whenever he
made reference to her family’s name, but this time, it sounded almost
complimentary.

Violet tapped her chin with a nail, pretending to think
over her answer though there was really only one thing she wanted. “How about
another kiss, but without the bitch this time?”

A surprise burst of laughter left him, but it was over in a
second as his face turned serious. Curling a hand around the side of her face,
he pulled her closer, his face just a breath away. She waited, more than a
little ready for what he would do next, but he didn’t come any closer.

Then, he whispered, “Take what you want.”

A flood of heat swept through her at his words, but she
didn’t waste a second thinking on his words—she just did exactly what he said.

This time, it was her kissing him, pressing closer, wanting
to eliminate all the space between them. Despite how hard the rest of him was,
his lips were soft, but unyielding. For a time, she was the one in charge,
taking what she wanted, but very soon, he was taking over, tilting her head to
the side as he deepened the kiss, putting her exactly as he wanted her.

His other arm slipped around her waist, drifting beneath
the edge of her shirt, the heat of his palm almost shocking. In one firm pull,
he had her closer as their lips found a familiar rhythm that shouldn’t have
been familiar at all. His fingers pressed into her skin, teasing and promising
at the same time. She hummed a contented sound against his mouth.

Kaz smirked, pulling away slightly. “Was that what you were
looking for?”

“Better without the bitch.”

He lifted a brow. “Why do I hear a but in there?”

Violet shrugged. “But your hands. On my throat. I liked
your hands the last time, too.”

Kaz’s grin spread a little wider, and he shook his head.
“Killing me here.”

She wasn’t trying to.

His tone had deepened with a huskiness that made her mouth
dry. She was not alone in this strange attraction. Not in the least.

Violet needed a second to breathe, never mind the ache
between her thighs. “How did the birthday party go?”

“That’s what you want to talk about right now?”

“Distance?”

He seemed to get what she said, and what she didn’t. “My
sisters loved the clothes. Thank you for that, again.”

“Sixteen-year-olds are not so hard to figure out.”

“These ones can be,” he said, laughing.

Violet cleared her throat, still hyperaware of his hand on
her back and how close he was to her. “All right. Enough.”

Kaz’s brow dropped in his confusion. “Enough of what?”

“Distance.”

She leaned forward, and kissed him again.

K
az liked bending rules,
but never outright breaking them—he thrilled in it—but as he exited the diner
with Violet on his arm with every intention of taking her back to his place,
there was no doubt that he wasn’t bending a rule, but obliterating the fucking
thing.

But he didn’t care. It was the last thing on his mind as he
opened the passenger door and helped her into his truck. He was, however,
wondering how they had got to this point, or rather how
he
had gotten
here.

When he had set out for her place, ready to do murder, he
hadn’t for a second thought they would end up here.

Nor had he imagined that he would have kissed her. Not
once, not even twice, but a number of times that had all blended into one.

There was just something about her … something he hadn’t
expected from a girl like her. Kaz had had his fair share of spoiled, rich
girls, and had grown bored with them fairly quickly after only a couple of
weeks. They were all the same: immature, weak, and only valuing what a person
would buy or give them.

But Violet … there was a fire in her, a burning passion
that he wanted to ignite further, just to see what would happen. He wanted to
see her come alive beneath his hands.

It was dangerous, not just her, but the implications of
what would come if anyone found out about this.

This could no longer be considered innocent.

And with what he planned to do to her, it definitely
wouldn’t be.

Sliding in the truck, Kaz buckled up, the lights on the
dash illuminating the dark interior as he started it up. Violet was turned in
his direction, her expression open, her eyes seeking an answer that he wasn’t
quite ready to give.

They had only been driving for a short while when that
expression changed as she said, “This isn’t the way to Manhattan.”

He couldn’t quite contain the smirk that was fighting its
way free. “No, it isn’t.”

She grew quiet again, making Kaz glance over in her
direction. “You can always say no. I’ll take you home right now, and we’ll
never have to talk about this again,” he said. It was the last thing he wanted
to do, but he would if she asked it of him. Right then, he’d give her anything
she wanted.

“I’ve wondered what your place looked like,” she murmured,
like the comment was more to herself than for him.

That was the only answer he needed, and more was what was
left unspoken between them. He wasn’t the only one to receive warnings, he was
sure, so she was taking just as much of a risk coming to Little Odessa with him
as he was. Violet was trusting him, believing that he would not only keep her
safe, but ensure that no one would catch them together.

Kaz wouldn’t break that.

The rest of the drive was spent in silence, and though she
sat a little straighter when they got into the heart of Little Odessa, making
him reach across the seat and rest his hand on her thigh, his fingers curving
around. It was silent, his reminder that she was with him, but it was enough to
get her to relax.

Pulling into the parking structure attached to his
apartment building, he drove around to the back, parking next to his Porsche,
and the set of service elevators nearby. Kaz rarely went through the lobby
anymore—especially when there was no guarantee what he would look like when he
got home.

As they boarded, he pressed the button for his floor, and
stepped back, looking to Violet as the doors closed.

There was no going back now.

Heart hammering, butterflies fluttering in her stomach,
Violet tried to act normal as Kaz walked ahead of her once the doors to the
elevator reopened. Like her place, his seemed to be the only one on this floor,
but his had added security. After sticking the key in the lock, he pressed his
thumb to an electronic key pad, the locks clicking open audibly.

At least she knew no one would just be walking in
uninvited.

He opened the door wide, nodding his head for her to go in
ahead of him.

She didn’t know what she was expecting when she walked in,
a bachelor’s pad maybe, or a barren space that looked like it wasn’t lived in,
but as she looked around, she remembered that his sister was an interior
designer, and it was clear that she had used her skills on his place.

The floors were a dark hardwood, his walls painted a soft
gray. Floor-to-ceiling windows on one side of the room were shielded by dark
gray drapes, though they were parted just enough that she could see the beach
through them. A large sectional divided the living room and the open concept
kitchen.

His place, though decorated with just about everything a
person could want, looked inviting rather than cold, like a store room display.

“I have to make a phone call,” Kaz said. “Look around if
you want, but not too deep.”

Violet raised a brow at his words. “What, scared I might
find all your secrets, skeletons, and fears hidden in your dresser drawers?”

Kaz didn’t even blink. “Exactly that.”

“Closets are open, then?”

“Only a stupid man hides skeletons in the closet. Everyone
always looks there first.”

Violet laughed as Kaz pulled his phone out and made a
beeline for the hallway opposite to the large living room. She milled around,
noting that while the place was decorated and beautiful, there weren’t many
pictures to give insight to the personal life of Kaz or his family. In the
kitchen, she found a haphazard stack of mail piled in the middle of the table,
and smiled to herself.

Apparently, she wasn’t the only one who just let her mail
fall wherever it dropped.

After another couple of minutes without Kaz coming back,
she decided to go in search of him. Down the hallway he had disappeared
earlier, she found several doors. All of which were closed but for one.
Standing in the doorway, she realized it was his bedroom.

Unlike the living room, his bedroom actually looked like
someone regularly used it. His bed was left unmade, the sheets in disarray as
though he hadn’t been able to get comfortable in them—she briefly wondered
whether he slept without clothes on. Twin nightstands, and a bookcase along
another wall made up the last of the furniture in the room.

The muffled, one-sided conversation coming from behind the
closed door directly across from the bedroom made her pause, and stopped her
from entering Kaz’s bedroom any more than she already had.

“Hey,” she heard Kaz say. And then just as quickly, “Just
wanted to check up on you, Rus.”

Guilt flooded Violet almost instantly. The anger was quick
to follow. She didn’t want to believe that Amelia had told Franco a bunch of
lies about what really happened that night at the club, but it seemed that was
just what her friend had done.

And in the process, a man who had only tried to help them
had gotten hurt.

So yeah, that pissed Violet off.

“Good,
brat
,” she heard Kaz say. “No, I told you I
was going home … Shit, do you want me to call you from my house phone? Hang up
and I’ll do that. We can play that game if you want to, Ruslan.”

At that point, Violet decided to leave Kaz to his private
conversation with his brother. She didn’t feel right spying on him like that,
after all. He had already told her to look around. Wasn’t that enough?

As she stepped further into the bedroom, flicking on the
lights as she passed the switch on the wall, her nervousness returned. She knew
better than to be here—knew this was ten shades of stupid, and getting worse by
the second.

Violet had worked particularly hard to make her father feel
at least slightly more comfortable with trusting her again. She hadn’t intended
to disobey him, not like she currently was, but something in the back of her
mind wouldn’t let her drop Kaz. While her father made every effort to act as if
the Russians didn’t matter in their world, it seemed like fate had entirely different
plans what with the way it kept throwing Kaz back into her path.

Or rather, the way he kept putting himself there.

She was starting to think she didn't mind.

Even if it was
wrong
.

And maybe Violet knew that if she really wanted to follow
the rules set out for her, and please her father in the process, she should
have told Kaz to leave hours earlier, when he showed up at her place. She
shouldn’t have indulged his argument, or let him touch her or kiss her. She
definitely shouldn't have let him take her into Brooklyn, never mind Little
Odessa.

Each time she didn’t say “no” to something, she broke the
rules a little more with something else. She pushed those boundaries a little
further.

She was saying “fuck you” a little louder.

But what was she really doing wrong?

Violet was just a woman. Kaz was just a man.

She didn’t really understand why their last names had to
factor into it at all.

A peek of gray marble caught Violet’s eye as she passed the
unmade bed. A door, only slightly open, made her curious. What was it that he
had said about closets?

He didn’t hide his skeletons in there.

Violet found a connecting bath when she pushed the door
open the rest of the way, but another door had been left wide open at the other
side of the bathroom, and a light was left on. She could tell it was a closet
of sorts, and once again, curiosity got the better of her.

Before she knew it, Violet was looking over an assortment
of watches. She had kicked her heels off at the doorway, and she discovered
that Kaz had a taste for black clothes and a small collection of Converse.

She wouldn’t have taken him for the type, all things
considered.

“What are you doing in here?”

Violet didn’t start at Kaz’s voice coming from the doorway
connecting to the bathroom. She just continued admiring his vast closet.

“You have more clothes than I do,” she said.

“I doubt that.”

“Don’t. You do.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him grin. “I like
things.”

“Things like watches and Converse?”

“Yes, on the first, and when I was a bit younger and could
get away with them, for the second.”

Violet nodded, more to herself than him. “And you’ve never
thought to get rid of them?”

“Why would I get rid of them?”

His question had come out sounding so confused that she
couldn’t help but laugh.

“You don’t wear them, you said.”

Kaz shrugged. “I’m not seeing your point.”

“You’re one of those, then,” Violet said.

“One of—what?”

“You probably have something in this closet from at least
ten years ago, but because it might still fit and you may wear it again
someday, you won’t get rid of it.”

“Wrong,” he said.

Violet straightened, turning to stare him down. “I bet I
could find something. I probably already did, but overlooked it because your
Converse
collection
distracted me.”