Chapter 25: Chapter Twenty-Four

The most dangerous sicknesses are those that make us believe we are well. —Russian Proverb

Nikolai

My hands wouldn’t stop shaking. Two hours had passed, and my body was still conniving against me along with my brain, telling me that all I needed to do was wake her up and confess.

It sounded easy.

It should be easy.

All I needed to do was open my mouth and say the words, the words that I knew would destroy whatever friendship or relationship we’d had with one another, that the man who she dreamed of was both her hero and her villain, one in the same.

Jekyll was Hyde and vice versa.

I didn’t need to get into her psyche to know what would happen if I suddenly put on one of the white masks in her room. Strategically, I’d placed them there to see if they triggered anything.

But as far as I knew, to her, they were simple props, costumes.

They had nothing to do with the most important twenty-four hours of both our lives, and if I had it my way, they never would.

I checked my Rolex. We would be making our descent into Chicago soon. I needed to wake her up and break the news.

I sipped my wine and waited a few more minutes, not yet ready to break the spell, knowing that the minute she opened her eyes she’d remember nothing but drinking wine and then falling asleep.

It was always possible she’d remember fragments, but I could explain those away with daydreams, nightmares, take your pick.

She wouldn’t remember me giving her pleasure.

And that made me borderline hostile, just thinking about the fact that she wouldn’t be consciously aware that it was my kiss that made her both remember and wish she could forget, my lips that brought forth blessings, that reminded us both of the curse.

The plane took a dip. With slow movements, I rose from the chair, setting my glass on a nearby table as I made my way to the back of the plane and opened the door to the bedroom.

She was just as I left her.

Shirt off.

Arm tucked beneath her head as a cascade of dark hair fell across her face, kissing her lips and brushing across her chin.

Damn it.

I hesitated, I didn’t want to break the moment of bliss where I could stare at her and imagine that she’d fallen asleep because of our lovemaking, not because I’d forced it upon her.

After I’d drugged her.

I bent down and pressed a kiss across her temple and whispered into her ear. “Wake up sleeping beauty.” I snapped my fingers twice and then took a step back as she stirred.

With a moan, Maya blinked open her eyes and frowned in my direction. “Where am I?”

“Thirty-five thousand feet in the air, give or take a few hundred feet.” I answered in a dry tone. “Maybe take it easy on the wine next time?”

Maya jerked to a sitting position on the bed then looked down and quickly covered herself with the spare blanket. “Did I get drunk?”

“No.” I offered a polite smile. “Do you remember…anything?”

“Oh, no!” Maya covered her face with her hands. “Did I... attack you?”

“Define attack.” I said with a soft laugh.

“No!” Maya groaned into the blanket then pressed her face into it, her voice muffled. “Tell me I didn’t kiss you or just... toss my body in your general direction and ask you to catch me.”

I couldn’t keep my smile from widening as I sat next to her on the bed and let out a light laugh.

“Nothing as horrible as that, though next time you want sex it would probably be best to ask for it sober, and not puke after making an offer.”

Maya went white as a sheet.

“I’m kidding.” I chuckled, “You drank two large glasses of wine, said you felt sleepy, and I walked you to the back bedroom where you fell into a... dreamless sleep.”

“No.” Maya frowned. “Not dreamless.” She shuddered and her skin went from pale to flushed. “I mean...” She pressed a hand to her forehead. “Is it hot in here?”

“Are you alright?” Was it vain to wish she remembered something? Anything?

“Yeah,” she said quickly. “I, uh, just had a few really strange dreams.”

“Alcohol tends to have that effect on people.” I said in a soothing and hopefully halfway convincing voice.

“How many times have you had to say that to a patient, I wonder?” she muttered.

“More than I can count.”

Maya laughed, then her eyes narrowed in on my face. “Are you... never mind.”

“What?”

“Nothing...” She waved me off. “It just felt really real. My dream.”

“Really real, huh?”

“Hey, I just woke up, don’t correct my speech.”

I held up my hands in innocence. “Why don’t you get dressed, then we can talk, alright?”

“Talk?”

“About our reason for being in Chicago.”

“No more secrets?”

“No.” At least in this I could be somewhat honest.

“What changed?”

~Everything,~ I wanted to say. Instead, I simply ignored the question as I typically did when I didn’t want to answer something. “Get dressed, Maya.

“We don’t have much time, and I mean to catch you up before we’re held at gunpoint.”

She laughed.

I didn’t.

“Anything is safer than my father and his thugs,” she said under her breath.

“Hah!” I laughed without humor. “Then you clearly have never met the Five Families.”

“Five… families?” she repeated.

“The Five Families.” I tried to keep the bitterness out of my voice. “From Sicily.

“If you think your father is scary… you're in for a very rude wakeup call, and I apologize in advance… they look well dressed, attractive, orderly, safe.”

“Is it a ruse?”

“Wolves in sheep’s clothing… every last one. We'll talk more in a few minutes when I'm not distracted by the fact that you aren't wearing a shirt.”

She glanced down.

“Maya, that only makes me want to see more.”

She dropped the blanket.

That wasn't part of the plan. I clenched my fist in my hand. “What are you doing?”

“This feels familiar.” Her words were hollow, like she was trying to remember.

“Are you saying I visited you in your dreams?” I asked, keeping to a light, teasing tone.

“Yeah.” She snorted. “But believe me, they weren't real, no way a man is that skilled in the bedroom using his hands.”

It was a direct hit to my ego.

Because it ~was~ me.

It ~is~ me.

But saying something would ruin more than I was willing to risk—at least in that moment. Soon, soon she would know.

And I'd have to pray she wouldn't run screaming in the other direction.

Or worse… point the gun and pull the trigger.

“I'll just wait outside.” I shut the door swiftly behind me, my hands still shaking, like they always did when adrenaline coursed through me, like they had before my first female patient at the clinic.

Like they did whenever Jac approached me about my family legacy.

Shit… I still hadn't heard from Jac.

I made a mental note to call her the minute we landed or at least text to make sure things were under control on her end because if they weren't—then I was in for a hell of a time when I got back to Seattle.