Fifty-Six

Mikhail

"Don't turn this on me." Her tears are no longer from fear but anger. "You don't trust me. You never have, and you never will. I want to prove it to you. But you won't let me. You refuse to believe anything else—right or wrong." Maria's gaze locks on mine. "Don't push me away because you're afraid to be wrong, Mikhail."

I freeze in place, staring at her. Afraid. The word stings, then ignites a fire that rips through me. I'm not afraid, am I? Yet I balance precariously between my desire for her and the fear of getting too close. Instead, I challenge her.

"Why should I trust you, Maria?" I whisper. "Because you're the innocent one?"

Our gazes lock, and I see something in hers—a longing that reflects mine. That energy pulls us closer, and it takes every ounce of my control not to reach out and touch her.

Her anger lessens as she leans against the door. "I'm not trying to trick you, Mikhail. I don't know how."

My gaze consumes every detail of her face, the curve of her lips as she