Chapter 33
Chapter Thirty-Three
Maggie’s eyes snapped to his the instant the words came out of his mouth. Her delight was palpable and despite the tension that had grown between them, Anatoly found himself smiling back at her.
She was beautiful. Her cheeks glowed with a soft blush, and he was reminded that she had referred to him as her boyfriend. It made his chest grow tight and his grin widen to think of it.
The urge to lean down and kiss her was overwhelming. Just as it had been in the kitchen when she licked his fingers clean. The memory was enough to stir all sorts of emotions up in him, but Anatoly maintained control, even though it was exceedingly difficult.
“I’ll get the warrant then,” Maggie was saying, drawing him back to the moment. “Until then… I should probably clean this shit up.”
“Or…” he purposefully trailed off, keeping a firm grip on her hands even as she tried to pull away, signaling that he wasn’t done. “Perhaps we take break?”
She raised an eyebrow skeptically. “And do what exactly?”
“I thought, since you have night off, I might take you on proper date tonight,” he answered, unable to keep the sly twinkle out of his eye. He’d been planning this since promising her a date and he was hoping she would still be open to it given their disagreement.
Her nose wrinkled, but he could tell she was being playful by the smirk that followed the gesture. “Eww, like a surprise?”
“Maggie Boone,” he mock-scolded. “Do not be quick to dismiss good surprise, especially from boyfriend.” He put emphasis on the word, playfully teasing her for using it earlier even though he rather enjoyed having the title.
It was thrilling, to be claimed in such a manner by someone, especially someone he cared so deeply for.
The way she giggled and glanced away, her cheeks rosy again, was irresistible.
Anatoly couldn’t hold back any longer. He pulled her to his chest and held her tenderly, his hand raising to brush a lock of hair behind her ear.
Maggie let out a startled little gasp even as her body melted in his embrace.
He could hear the thrum of her blood, the quickening of her heartbeat as she gazed up at him with eyes that were begging him to kiss her.
Heart aching with affection, Anatoly leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. The words were still difficult to coax free, but this was as natural as breathing had been in life.
As she returned the kiss, the vampire once again found himself fighting his own nature.
His body and his inner beast were strangely in agreement, chanting in the back of his mind that he needed to lay claim to Maggie in a carnal sense, but Anatoly wasn’t ready.
He wasn’t sure she was ready either, and the last thing he wanted, was to rush either of them into something they would regret.
But the desire remained and only his good sense allowed him to pull away from her before there was no going back.
By that point, Maggie seemed breathless and swaying on her feet. Anatoly continued to hold her steady, even as she tried to pull him back into the kiss. Oh, how he was tempted by her, but he didn’t dare continue.
“What’s wrong?” she finally asked, when he had made it clear they would be going no further in that direction.
Before he could form what felt like an adequate response, there was an annoyed pounding at the door that startled both of them. “Maggie, it’s your mother, open up!”
“Shit,” Maggie swore under her breath as she began to gather the scattered paperwork. Anatoly realized what she was trying to do and helped, trying not to jumble them up too much in the process.
Meanwhile, Patricia continued to shout her daughter’s name through the door until Maggie growled an annoyed, “I’m coming!” Then she handed her share of the papers to Anatoly with a hushed, “put them in my room,” before stepping toward the door.
Anatoly obeyed without hesitation, hurrying to lay the jumbled-up papers on Maggie’s bed where the cat was curled up asleep. Gremlin trilled quizzically and stretched, but otherwise didn’t seem to mind the intrusion.
When the vampire made it back into the living room, Patricia was making the rounds, inspecting every corner with a critical eye. Maggie stood behind her, arms crossed, glowering.
“Why are you here, Mother?”
Patricia tutted. “Must I have a reason to visit my only child?”
“Yes, now if you don’t mind, I’m busy,” Maggie shot back. “You should have called.”
That’s the moment Patricia noticed Anatoly and her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “So I see… Really, Maggie, again with the priest?” She turned a disapproving look to Maggie like it was a broadsword she was wielding.
Feeling more than a little awkward, Anatoly offered the friendliest smile he could muster given the circumstances. “We were working on case,” he explained and it wasn’t far from the truth. The kissing had been a distraction after all.
“In the bedroom?” Patricia waved Maggie to silence and fixed Anatoly with that harsh stare of hers. “Seems a rather inappropriate place for a priest to be, given my daughter is single and lives alone.”
“Mother, I asked him to put the file away in there,” Maggie cut in.
But Patricia wasn’t backing down. “You mean the file that you were supposed to turn over to Declan’s taskforce?”
Anatoly and Maggie exchanged a glance and he wondered how her mother could possibly know about that.
Maggie seemed less surprised and more annoyed, but it was clear Patricia had connections enough to know what was going on in Maggie’s life and that ruffled Anatoly’s feathers in a way that surprised even him.
“How do you know about that?” Maggie was demanding, even as Anatoly resisted the urge to move to her side. Her mother had already determined something was going on and he didn’t want to give her any further ideas.
“It’s on the news, Maggie.” Patricia waved her off as if it didn’t matter, but Anatoly could tell she was hiding the truth. With one glance he could see, Maggie wasn’t about to let go and he could hardly blame her either.
To his surprise, Maggie moved to stand beside him, facing her mother head on. It drew a raised eyebrow from the older woman, but before she could comment, her daughter doubled down. “Me turning over files was not on the news, Mother. Spill, who have you been talking to?”
Patricia hesitated only a second before dropping a bombshell. “Don’t be mad, Maggie. You really are entirely too sensitive about these things, but I may have reached out to Declan when I saw the news. I knew you wouldn’t tell me and he was always such a sweet young man…”
The silence was tight, uncomfortable, awkward. Anatoly wanted to take Maggie’s hand to reassure her somehow that he was there and he wasn’t going anywhere. Once again, circumstances didn’t allow him to openly comfort her and that drove home to him just how complicated their relationship was.
When Maggie stood there in stunned quiet, her mother kept talking. “It was one conversation, Maggie. Just to check up on you. I don’t know why you ever let Declan get away in the first place. I think he misses you, if we’re being honest. There might be a chance there—”
“Mother, he’s married,” Maggie finally blurted and even Anatoly couldn’t hide the incredulous expression that took over his features momentarily. “Even if he wasn’t, there isn’t a chance in hell that I’d go back to him.”
Her declaration sent a wave of heat through the vampire, warming his undead body in a way only Maggie could. It made the situation more bearable.
“Don’t act all affronted, young lady. I’m just saying there’s always trouble in paradise and if you put in a little effort, you might be able to win him back from that tramp who cut in!” Patricia didn’t seem the least bit apologetic as she said it.
To think that someone like her had raised Maggie into the wonderful woman she was baffled Anatoly. Then again, if his mother had been so crass, he would not want to be anything like her either.
“You mean, his pregnant wife?” Maggie pointed out, not backing down.
Anatoly wished he could tell what she was thinking, wished he could do more than just stand there like a fool. But what could he possibly say to smooth things over? This was worse than when she had lost the case, but just like that moment, he would be truly damned if he abandoned her now.
“Perhaps it would be better if we change subject,” he tried to interject, but Patricia just fixed him with a glare.
“Why is the priest still here?” she asked Maggie, flicking her gaze back to her daughter. “This is a private family matter…”
To Anatoly’s surprise, Maggie laughed at that. “He’s more welcome here than you are.” Her words seethed with venom and to her credit, Patricia actually appeared hurt by them if only for a brief moment.
“Why are you so hostile, young lady?” Patricia scolded her adult daughter like she was a child. “I raised you, clothed you, fed you, changed your diapers… Is that any way to show thanks?”
Maggie just shook her head, exhaustion evident in the tenseness of her shoulders and the expression on her face. “Mother, please just leave. I’m sick of fighting with you.” She sounded so defeated it broke Anatoly’s heart.
To his surprise, however, Patricia seemed to realize she had swiftly worn out her welcome. She reached into her purse, pulled out a small package and held it out. “Fine, be dramatic. This is for your birthday. Not that you’ll be grateful for it, either.”
When Maggie didn’t accept it, Patricia thrust it at Anatoly who was far too polite to refuse the little white box, even though it was the last thing he wanted to do.
Like the storm she was, Patricia blew back out the door, slamming it in her wake. Anatoly turned to Maggie, intending to ask what she wanted him to do with the box, but to his horror she had crumpled to the floor.