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Lost in Moscow's Secret 9
MILADURING THE INTERMISSION, ONE OF the theater attendants slipped a piece of paper into Ronan’s hand. He read it and then put it into his pocket. Call it intuition, but I knew Liza wrote the note.As the curtains closed and the lights came back on, we headed down the hall to the exit, but something drew me to a stop. A portrait on the wall in a gaudy gold frame. My mother’s hair was in an elegant updo, her eyes sparkling with an animate light. Ronan waited behind me, and if he noticed the uncanny resemblance, he didn’t say anything.I swallowed and followed himout of the theater.My mother performed here. Now I knew for sure, maybe I could come back and question some of the employees tomorrow. Someone had to know if she had family and where I could find them.Having beat most of the crowd outside, we passed the old-fashioned ticket booth, where my attention caught on an elderly woman sitting on the ground wrapped in a thin, tattered bla
Lost in Moscow's Secret 10
“The boy in that picture in your office, I bet he cares about you.”There was something between them—two dirty, homeless boys on the street—that screamed loyalty.“And who cares about you?”I didn’t hesitate. “My papa.” I knew it was true. No matter the secrets he withheld from me and the anxieties of abandonment, I knew he loved me.Ronan found something unpleasant in my response. “You have a soft heart.”I didn’t say anything because, as annoying as it could sometimes be, it was true. “Don’t,” he said, as if I could simply change it. “The soft ones are easier to break.”I wondered who gave this man such a jaded view on life, who cast him out into the cold street. Whatever happened to him, he was still kind and generous, and I couldn’t help but find that incredibly attractive.“The soft ones are the most loyal,” I countered. “And naïve.”“If you mean trusting, yes.”“I meant naïve,” he deadpanned.
Lost in Moscow's Secret 11
MILAAKNOCK WOKE ME. I groaned and pulled my pillow over my face when I saw it was only seven a.m. I’d stayed up watching Russian sitcoms into the early hours of the morning, my skin flaring with the aftermath of Ronan’s mouth on mine. It made sleep impossible to find.I still couldn’t believe how quickly the kiss had escalated, that I orgasmed in a public hallway fromonly the press of his thigh. I would like to think it was the cyclone of teenage hormones and lust I suppressed, but I knew it was because we had chemistry. The kind that sizzled like the sun on hot pavement fromsimply being in the same room. And now I knew he felt it too. I could only assume his disturbed reaction afterward was due to himremembering I was only nineteen.Like it would help, I planned to tell himI was actually twenty.When the knocking continued, I sighed, tossed the comforter back, and padded across the room to answer the door, half-expecting Ivan to be standing on t
Lost in Moscow's Secret 12
Entering through the front doors of the restaurant I slept in a few nights ago was a different experience today. It may be timeworn and slightly dusty, but the delicious smells that hit me in the face made me salivate. Unlike the first time I was here, the place was now full.I locked eyes with a man I recognized from that night. The smoker. He leaned against the bar nursing a glass of clear liquid. His gaze flickered with something so harsh I grew cold. I needed to look up United States–Russia relations the first chance I got.Ronan removed my coat, and the glide of his fingers down the fabric of my dress dropped my heartbeat between my legs. “Zholtoye,” he said thoughtfully, his eyes on the dress, as if he’d been wondering what was beneath my coat. Yellow.My breath slowed. “Tebe . . . nravitsya zheltoye?” Do you like yellow?His gaze lifted, holding, pressing, burning mine while stealing every ounce of breath in my lungs. He never answered me,
Lost in Moscow's Secret 13
MILAI DIDN’T SEE RONAN FOR two days. I spent my time thinking about him, being the worst private investigator to exist, and deleting my papa’s and Ivan’s voicemails.Food—thoughtfully, vegan—was delivered like clockwork by the same teenage boy with poor customer service skills. This was a relief because, one, it fixed the issue of my limited funds, and two, it let me know Ronan hadn’t forgotten about me after that very intense and confusing kiss.I went to the opera house twice during busier hours, but each time I questioned someone about my mother, they stared speechlessly at me, made the sign of the cross on their chest, or simply turned and walked away. It was frustrating, to say the least, but also . . . disconcerting.My only relief was, I didn’t see the man with tattoos on his hands again, and I was much more vigilant while out and about.I shut the door, having just returned from sightseeing. One could say the priority to find information about my mother had become jumbled wi
Lost in Moscow's Secret 14
“Idealnaya,” he said roughly. Perfect.He gripped the flare of my hips, palms sliding up. A soft sigh escaped me as the pressure of his touch ached between my legs. He ran a thumb over the yellowing bruise on my waist, eyes flickering with violence. All of the fight in me died like a breeze against a flame, leaving something heavy and softer in its place.His gentle caress wrapped around my heart and tugged it toward him. “You feel this too,” I breathed into his mouth.He bit my bottomlip and responded, “Shut up,” but there wasn’t any heat in it.He caressed the bare curves of my ass, the skin on skin liquefying every nerve within me. His lips traveled down my throat to the tops of my breasts, and he nipped the skin before sliding a rough hand beneath my bra to squeeze the flesh.Pleasure rushed to my core, and I hummed against his neck. “Pomni.” His lips pressed against my ear. “Ti eto prosila.”I didn’t get time to dwell on the Russian words because he unclipped my bra and pulled it
Lost in Moscow's Secret 15
I WALKED DOWN THE AISLE stuffing my arms full of snacks: popcorn, chips, something sweet because salty. Obviously, I was eating my feelings, and the woman behind the counter was judging me the entire way.I ignored her, grabbing a bottle of cucumber-flavored soda to wash it all down with.After last night, the impending doomof going home and wearing Carter’s diamond ring tore at my every nerve, but I couldn’t just abandon my life forever. Not for a city that didn’t welcome me. Not even for a man who made me feel for the first time in my life.I wasn’t naïve enough to believe I could hold Ronan’s attention for more than a week. The thought of never seeing him again already ached like a hot coal in my chest. How bad would it be if I gave himmy virginity?I had to go home.It was the only lasting thing I had.I dropped my load on the counter. The cashier looked completely unimpressed with my purchases, but she didn’t say a word as she rang me up.I paid with one of my last ruble notes, p
Lost in Moscow's Secret 16
RONANITOSSED THE EMPTY SYRINGE to the floor when her body went limp in my arms. I’d kept the injection in my pocket since she ran into me on her first night here, waiting for the right moment to put it to use.And this was not the right fucking moment.Anger sent a rush of heat through me as I wrapped an arm around her legs and lifted her, her long blonde ponytail hanging lifelessly. Beneath her coat, she wore a bohemian skirt with a slit to her hip and some kind of blouse that didn’t reach her navel. So impractical for a Russian winter.As always.Her head rolled to rest against me, tear tracks wet on her cheeks. I looked away fromher face and turned to see Albert behind me, his cautious gaze on the girl in my arms. He was as emotionless as ice, but I could only assume the barely-there look in his eyes was reservation about what I might do to her.“I will take her,” he said. I was sure he would.Annoyance flared in my chest. “You’ll go clean up the mess with Adams. There’s blood all
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