Chapter 37 Grace
GRACE
Yesterday was Maxim and Elena’s funeral or memorial or whatever you call it. I haven’t moved out of my bed all day, and my family keeps coming in to check on me. I guess they’re making sure I haven’t done something stupid, even though I want to. Maxim would haunt me if I did, so I don’t.
It’s late, and everyone else has gone to sleep.
I pull myself out of bed and go for a walk in the garden.
It’s the only time I can get out of the house without someone hovering over me.
There’s a beautiful full moon tonight, and all the stars are bright, lighting up the sky.
I follow the well-worn path from the house and stand against the stone wall to look out over the shimmering dark water of the ocean.
“I miss you, Maxim.” The words are carried away by the breeze.
“I’ve missed you, Grace.” I still, hearing his voice. He sounds so close, yet so far. I’m imagining things.
“I wish I could hold you one last time. Kiss you, tell you how much I love you,” I confess to the moonlight.
“You can,” he says.
I hear the crack of a stick behind me, and I turn around and gasp.
There, bathed in the moonlight, is Maxim, dressed in a pair of jeans, a white T-shirt pulling across his hard chest, and wearing a smile that makes my broken heart thump against my ribs.
His dark hair had been peroxided blond. There’s no scruff on his face, and his once-dark eyes are now green.
Is this an angel version of Maxim? It looks like him but not quite.
Tears fall as I stare at the apparition in front of me.
Obviously, this is what my mind needs to say goodbye to him, to let him go.
To try to return to the land of the living.
I let out a happy sigh, soaking in everything that is Maxim one last time.
He moves closer to me until he’s standing right in front of me.
His hand touches my cheek, and I lean into his touch.
It feels so real. I have missed it so much.
“Hearing your voice again ...” I say.
“I’ve missed you so much, Grace.”
I look into those once-dark eyes, swirling full of emotions as a single tear falls down his cheek.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you, Grace, but it was the only way to keep you safe.”
“It’s not your fault, it was an accident. You can move on to the other side. I forgive you.” Don’t they say you’re supposed to forgive a spirit so they can move on and be at peace in the other life?
He shakes his head. “Grace. I’m alive.”
What the hell did he just say?
Maxim’s other hand cups my face, bringing it to his.
I can feel his warm breath over my skin—or was it just a breeze?
His lips touch mine, and it feels real. His tongue pushes my mouth open for me as it slides in.
It feels real. It feels the way it always did when he kissed me.
Our lips press against each other’s, our tongues moving in a well-rehearsed dance, and I let out a moan.
I have wanted this—no, I’ve craved this for the last two weeks, knowing I would never get a chance to kiss him again.
My hands grab for his body, pulling him close.
If I’m dreaming, I’m going to take every single thing the dream is giving me one last time.
I want his touch seared into my soul. My hands pull up his T-shirt and throw it to the ground.
His body feels so warm under my fingers.
I let my fingers run circles over his chest, along his pecs, and down his abs.
My fingers find the button to his jeans and snap it open, eliciting a growl from him, which makes my pussy throb with need.
His large hands move from my face to my waist. He picks me up and takes a couple of steps to place me on the stone wall, which is cool under my heated skin.
I am wearing an old threadbare T-shirt. He steps between my legs.
“I never thought I would be able to kiss you or touch you again, Gracie.”
I can feel his hardness pushing against the restrictive denim, and the gorgeous ache between my legs builds with every press against the bulge in his jeans.
“I need you, Maxim. I need you so much.” I push his jeans and underwear down.
He helps me lower them further, then his hands slide up my bare thighs, and his thick fingers slip under the edge of my underwear to pull them off.
His hand returns to my T-shirt and pulls it over my head.
The cool breeze dances across my peaked nipples.
His head leans down and takes one into his mouth, his hot tongue rolling it around, his teeth nipping, making my eyes roll back into my head.
He sucks my nipple into his mouth, making my pussy clench. I am already so wet for him.
“Don’t make me beg, Maxim,” I plead as he teases my nipples.
I can’t stand it, I need him, I have missed him too much to take things slow. I need to feel something, anything other than sheer devastation. This is the closest to Maxim I have felt in weeks, and I am going to take it.
“I love you, Grace,” Maxim murmurs into my neck, his teeth sinking into my shoulder.
I freeze. Then I’m pushing him away from me.
“Grace.” He stands naked in front of me, the moonlight highlighting every sculpted inch of his magnificent body.
“You’re not a ghost?”
Maxim frowns at me. “No, I’m alive.”
I shake my head. No, Maxim is dead, we had a funeral for him
yesterday, this is a dream, this must be a dream.
“You’re dead. This is not real.”
Strong hands cup my face again. He stares at me, and I blink a couple of times trying to make the apparition disappear, but it doesn’t.
“Grace, I’m alive.”
“You’re alive?” I still don’t believe it, there’s no possibility he could be in front of me.
“Yes.”
My hand comes up and slaps him across the face. The sound echoes through the night. I watch as the red mark rises on his skin. I keep shaking my head because I don’t believe it. This is some horrible dream—or a joke some sick bastard is playing on me.
Maxim shakes me by the shoulders. “It’s me, Grace. I had to fake my death so Dmitri wouldn’t come after you.”
I hear the words, but my mind is not translating them quickly enough.
“And Elena?”
“She’s alive too.”
“But, but—where have you been?”
“Langley.”
I frown. “As in the CIA Headquarters in America?”
“Yes, hold on.” He bends down, rifling through his jeans and
pulling out an American passport. He hands it to me.
I read the name. “Max Clark?”
“Yes, I decided I would change my surname to my wife’s. Because I’m a modern man and all.”
I keep blinking at him, my brain still not computing what’s happening.
“Elena is now Ellie Clark—you have a new sister.” He gives me a
playful smile.
That’s when I scream. My mind has finally caught up.
Maxim’s hand covers my mouth. “Ssh. Please, don’t scream again.” As he takes his hand away, I start slapping him.
“You fucking bastard, I thought you were dead, dead. I thought I
had lost the love of my life. You broke my heart, Max. You fucking ripped it into two.”
“I’m so sorry; I couldn’t do anything. I was locked in a cell until this morning when they let me go. I came straight for you.”
I stop slapping him but start sobbing. “I thought I’d lost you.” I wrap my arms tightly around him, pulling him close to me. I can feel his heart beat rapidly against my chest.
He’s alive, he is alive.
“Never do that to me again or I will kill you myself.”
This makes him chuckle as he kisses my forehead. “I promise to never fake my death ever again.” He places his hand on his heart like some kind of boy scout. “Now, can we finish what we started? I can pretend to be a ghost if you want. That seemed to make you hot.”