His Ward Page 3

  That was not a yes, nor was it a no. “Fine,” he said through gritted teeth. She was going to make him do this the hard way. “I’ll check myself.”

  “Leave my pants alone. It’s not my butt.” She squeaked out.

  Misha froze, and his heart dropped to the floor. He’d hoped that he’d been wrong, but her words proved otherwise. “Then what is it?”

  “My back. He hurt my back.”

  Nicholi let out a raw curse, but Misha remained expressionless and composed as he released his grip on her. At least on the outside. On the inside, he was choking on his rage. Someone dared, dared, to touch her, and that someone was going to pay. “What’s his name?”

  Tionne glanced over at Nicholi, then back at him. “Misha, please.”

  “Answer me,” he demanded.

  “It was an accident; I swear to you. Just let it go.”

  “Who. Is. He.” He was holding on to his rage by a very thin thread.

  She crossed her arms over her breasts and stared at him silently, but on this he would not be moved.

  “I have absolutely nowhere I have to be for the rest of the night, and any plans I have for this week can be changed. I can and I will stay right here until you tell me what I want to know.”

  Tionne sighed and dropped her arms. “You really would, wouldn’t you?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Can we at least do it in private?” Tionne shot Nicholi an apologetic look. “No offense.”

  “None taken,” his cousin said. “Mind if I use your bathroom?”

  “Of course not. You know where it is.”

  “Thank you.” Nicholi moved passed them but paused when he was just out of Tionne’s eyesight and gave a firm nod. Misha answered in kind, knowing without words that his cousin was going for the phone, leaving Misha to get what he could out of Tionne.

  THIS WAS TURNING out to be one of the worst nights of Tionne’s short life. Just when she didn’t think things could get any more shittastic, something else happened. It was almost as if the date from hell wasn’t sufficient punishment. Now she had to deal with this bullshit. It was enough to make a grown woman cry.

  “He’s gone,” Misha said suddenly, drawing her attention to him. “Tell me.”

  “It was an accident,” she said for what felt like the millionth time.

  “The more you say that, the less I believe you.”

  “You don’t want to believe me.”

  “Because you don’t want to tell me what happened.” Every word was spoken louder than the one before it.

  “Because the last thing I want to do is talk to you about my personal life.” Tionne purposely didn’t say sex life because she didn’t have one, unless one counted her very vivid imagination and her right hand.

  “I assure you, it’s not high on my list of conversations to have either,” he said crossly. “But we’ll have it anyway.”

  Frustrated, Tionne moved passed Misha and to her couch. She sat down but purposely didn’t lean back on the cushion. Her back was still tender to the touch. The Epsom salt had stung more than it had soothed, and she didn’t want to chance inflaming her back by leaning on it.

  “Look at you,” he said sharply.

  Startled, she jumped. “What?”

  “You’re even sitting like someone who’s injured.”

  Tionne cursed under her breath. Leave it to Misha to pick up on that. “It’s just a scratch. I promise.” She looked at him, and the worry on his solemn face robbed her of her anger. Yes, Misha was a pain in her ass, but he was only here because he cared. Even if it wasn’t in the way she wanted, he still cared, and she couldn’t be angry at him for that. “Mish, have I ever lied to you? Ever? About anything?”

  “Not that I’m aware of,” he said carefully.

  “Then why would I start now?”

  He snorted. “To appease me.”

  “Is it working?” she asked hopefully.

  “No.” A quick smile flickered across his lips. “And nothing will, not even calling me by that dreadful nickname.”

  “You love it. You know you do.”

  “I know,” he drawled as he came over to her and joined her on the couch, “that you’re the only person on this earth who would dare shorten my name.”

  “And that’s why I do it, because no one else calls you that.” It was their thing, just his and hers. “It makes me happy.”

  “Which is why I allow you to get away with it.”

  “Allow?” She rolled her eyes at his high-handed turn of phrase. “As if you could stop me.”

  “Couldn’t I? It seems,” he began as he sat next to her, “you’re testing your wings more and more, moja draga. Are you ready to fly the nest and leave me?”

  “Never.” She couldn’t even imagine a life without him.

  “Then why are you putting up walls between us? We never had secrets before. Is he so important to you that you have to protect him from me?”

  Misha couldn’t have been further from the truth. “What makes you think he’s the one I’m trying to protect?”

  His eyebrows skyrocketed up. “Are you implying that I need protection?”

  “Yes, from yourself. I know you. You’ll do something crazy out of some misguided sense of duty to my father.”

  “I give you my word, I won’t.”

  “Swear, no matter what I say, you won’t do something crazy because of some debt you think you owe my dad.”

  “I will not try to act out a vengeance in your father’s name. My word is my bond,” he said solemnly.

  Tionne narrowed her gaze, waiting for the other shoe to drop. “Really?”

  Misha laughed, the earnest moment gone. “Do you want me to spit on my hand so we can shake on it?”

  “No.” When he said it like that, she felt a bit foolish. “I guess not.”

  “Then tell me.”

  As much as she didn’t want to get into this with him, Tionne couldn’t see any way around it. Misha was as stubborn as he declared, and she knew that he would do as he vowed and stay there all week long if need be.

  “You’re not talking.”

  “I know.” She smacked his side with her hand. “Stop rushing me. I’m trying to figure out where to begin.”

  “His name would be a good place to start.”

  Tionne snorted. “Not happening.”

  “Fine.” Tionne could tell by his tone and expression that it was anything but. “Then start where things began to go south.”

  “After dinner, we went back to his place for drinks.”

  Misha stiffened. “His place.”

  “Yes.” Tionne met his gaze and held it. She didn’t want to share this any more than he wanted to hear it, but he was the one who’d began this, not her. “He started to kiss me and move me back on the couch in an umm”—she cleared her throat and prayed she didn’t get an aneurism from all the blood rushing to her head—“horizontal position, but it didn’t feel right. I called a stop to things, and he wasn’t pleased.”

  “And this is when he struck you?”

  “No, he never hit me,” she insisted strongly. “I think he thought I was playing a little hard to get or he’d seen one cheesy romance movie too many, because he thought kissing me would change my mind. When I tried to leave, he stopped me and pressed me up against the wall and, unfortunately, a nail at the same time. I tried to move, but he just kind of pushed a bit more, and it cut into my skin.”

  “He forced himself on you.”

  “No, not like that.” She tried to backtrack, realizing that it was coming out worse than she meant it to. “He didn’t force himself on me. He was just trying to persuade me, but honestly, as soon as I cried out, he stopped. He was very apologetic.”

  “You cried out?”

  “Yes. See, it was a big misunderstanding, but I’m okay.” The quiet way Misha was staring at her was beginning to make Tionne a little nervous. A quiet Misha was a plotting Misha, and there was nothing scarier than that. “Say something. You
’re beginning to freak me out a bit here.”

  “Show me.”

  She really didn’t want to do that. Tionne bruised easily, and that, combined with the long gash in her skin, wouldn’t go over well at all. She wasn’t pleased with what Troy had done, but she didn’t want him to die either. “Say something besides that.”

  He just stared at her, his hard gaze unwavering.

  “Mish…”

  “No, I want to see what this bastard did to you for myself.”

  Tionne closed her eyes and groaned. Instead of putting out the fire as she’d hoped, she’d jumped straight from the frying pan into it. This night sucked ass.

  Chapter Three

  “Does it matter to you even a little bit that I don’t want to do this?”

  “It matters a lot.” Her wants and desires always did, but they didn’t mean more than her safety. That came before everything else.

  “Then why are you pressing the issue?”

  “Because I care about you,” he said thickly. “If something had happened to me, if someone had hurt me, what would you do?”

  “Kill them,” she said without a second’s hesitation.

  His heart warmed at her fierceness. And she thought he was the bloodthirsty one. “Then imagine how I feel, little one, at the thought of some man forcing his mouth on you, pushing you against a wall, causing you to cry out in pain.”

  “Mish”—Tionne cupped his cheek in her hand—“I’m okay.”

  “You are everything to me. Do you not understand that? If it weren’t for you and your father’s help…” Tionne’s face clouded over, and she moved her hand. She drew into herself and away from him. This was the second time tonight she’d done that, and it bothered him just as much as it had the first time. She was pulling away from him, and he didn’t know why. “What did I say, little one?”

  “I’m not a debt.”

  Confused, he pulled back a bit. “What?”

  “I’m not your obligation. You don’t need to keep taking care of me because of my dad.”

  “I take care of you because I want to. Not that you let me.” He added the last part ruefully.

  “The only thing you don’t do now is dress and bathe me,” she said sarcastically.

  Misha pretended to mull that over. “Is that an option?”

  Her lips twitched a bit, as if she were fighting back a smile. “No.”

  “Then I’ll just settle for seeing your back.”

  “Keep in mind that it looks worse than it feels.”

  That was the wrong thing to say. “Not making me feel better here, love.”

  “Ugh, fine.” She stood and turned her back to him. “Ready?”

  Misha reached out and grabbed her waist. Tionne gasped as if she was shocked by his touch, but he ignored the sound and moved her until she was directly in front of him. When she was positioned just as he wanted, he removed his hand. “I am now.”

  Tionne muttered something under her breath as she grasped her shirt on the side and slowly pulled it up. For a second, Misha forgot what he was supposed to be doing this for. He was too busy looking at the lovely dark skin being exposed to him an inch at a time. As he reached out to brush his fingers across her lower back, Tionne’s shirt rose a bit more and revealed a jagged mark. Misha cursed at what he saw.

  “Are you happy now?”

  “Do. I. Seem. Happy?” He bit the words off and spit them out as he stared at her back.

  She looked over her shoulder at him. “It doesn’t hurt.”

  “Lies.”

  “It’s achy at best. Honestly.”

  “Right.” The scratch wasn’t deep enough that it required stitches. Misha wasn’t even sure it had bled, but it looked slightly inflamed, and by the way she inhaled when he gently probed around it, the scratch was obviously tender to the touch. The thought that anything, anyone would dare cause her pain made his blood boil. “What’s his name?”

  Tionne pulled her shirt back into place and turned to face him. “Misha, it was an accident. He was very sorry.”

  Not as sorry as he was going to be. “Are you going to tell me his name or not?”

  “No.”

  “Fine.” He’d get it another way. “Put some shoes on. I’m taking you to the doctor.”

  Tionne was shaking her head no even before he got the last word out. “It’s a scratch. I’m okay.”

  “Let a doctor tell me that.”

  “I’m telling you that,” she reaffirmed mulishly.

  “Not good enough.”

  “It’ll have to be, because the only place I’m going is bed. I’ve had a long night, and I’m tired.”

  Misha was tempted to just toss her over his shoulder and force her from the room, but he knew she’d fight him the entire way. And although he never shied away from a good fight, he was reluctant to push the matter since she was injured, out of fear of harming her further. “You frustrate me.”

  “The feeling is mutual.”

  Tionne went to move away, but Misha reached out and grabbed her arm. “Come here,” he said softly as he pulled her gently toward him.

  For the first time tonight, Tionne didn’t fight him. She allowed him to pull her to his lap. Instead of sitting stiffly as he thought she would, she leaned back against him. “No,” he said, instantly pulling his chest away from her back as he pressed against the couch. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “Being with you could never hurt me.”

  “Your back,” he protested.

  “Oh shut up and just hold me for a minute. I always feel the safest when I’m with you.”

  “That’s because you are safe.” Misha stopped fighting her and wrapped his arms loosely around her waist. “I can’t believe you just told me to shut up.”

  She rested her head next to his and laughed lightly. “I can’t believe you listened.”

  Neither could he. “Don’t get used to it. I’m only being kind because of your back.”

  “Then I’m going to milk this for as long as I can.”

  “You can milk it all the way to the hospital if you like.”

  “No.” She shook her head, knocking hers against his in the process. “No hospitals.”

  Misha let out a frustrated sigh. He was a man who could make others quake in their shoes with just one look, yet he couldn’t convince a mere slip of a girl to go see a doctor. He was losing his touch. “You know, there was a time when you minded me.”

  She laughed. “I never minded you. I was just better at not getting caught.”

  “That doesn’t make me feel better,” he said drily.

  “Wasn’t supposed to, but you love me just the same.”

  Even though her words were spoken with a hint of jest, they struck a little too close to the truth, for he did love her. Deeper and darker than he should. The feelings he had for her weren’t just borderline wrong, they were completely wrong. She was his ward. The only feelings he was supposed to have for her were of a familial variety, but they weren’t.

  “I could go to sleep just like this.”

  Misha could think of worse ways to end the night. “Then do it.”

  “No way. I must be crushing your legs.”

  “Please, you hardly weigh anything.”

  “That’s not true.” Tionne sat up and stretched. The motion moved the thin strap of her shirt to the side, drawing his attention to the ink etched into her dark brown flesh.

  Without asking for permission, he pushed her bra strap off her shoulder and out of the way, so that her tattoo was in plain sight. “I still can’t believe you got this silly thing.”

  “My body, my choice.” She defended as she always did whenever he teased her about the tattoo.

  “That’s why you hid it from me for a year,” he teased.

  “I didn’t hide it. I just purposely chose not to show it to you. It’s not the same thing.”

  “Right.” He traced the cursive font lightly with his fingertip. “Tell me again, what does the M stand for.
”

  “Magnificent.”

  He chuckled at her bald-faced lie. “You do realize that every time I ask you this question, you give me a different answer.”

  Tionne glanced over her shoulder at him and cocked a brow. “Then why do you keep asking?”

  “Because I’m hoping one day you’ll tell me the truth. Will you?”

  “Maybe.” She pushed her bra strap back in place and stood. “Someday.”

  “I’ll be sure to mark that on my calendar.”

  Before she could reply, Nicholi walked back into the room. “All done out here?” he asked.

  “Oh please,” Tionne teased. “Don’t pretend as if you didn’t wait until the yelling stopped before you came out.”

  “What can I say? I hate to see a grown man cry.”

  Tionne laughed, and Misha just shot his cousin a look that let Nicholi know he’d suffer for the comment later.

  “Are you sure—”

  Before Misha could continue, Tionne cut him off. “Yes, I’m fine. I promise you. In fact, I’m tired and ready for bed. So, if you boys are done delaying my beauty sleep, I’m going to hit the sack.”

  “All right, little one, we’ll leave. But don’t think this conversation is necessarily over.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Of course not.” She kissed Nicholi on the cheek, and even though he knew it was in no way sexual, Misha fought back a bite of jealousy. Then she turned to him to give him the same gesture. In a way, it grated on his nerves that she treated him the same way she did his cousin, but he allowed it, because it was what it should be.

  Misha said not a word until they stepped into the elevator, and even then he waited until the doors shut. “Tell me.”

  “Got him. I looked at the numbers on the call history on her cell phone. There was one from a Troy, no last name. I had our IT guys research the number, and we hit pay dirt. The owner of the phone abides at the address Tionne was picked up at.”

  The beauty of technology. “Perfect.”

  “Maybe not. He’s also an employee. He works in her department.”

  That was the least of Misha’s worries. “Not any longer.” The last thing Tionne needed to do was to see that bastard every day.

  “I take it we’re going to make a surprise visit.”

  It was a question that didn’t even bear asking. “Yes, but first we’re making a stop.”