“You let him kiss you.”

“Yes, I let him kiss me. I’ve let lots of men kiss me. Isn’t that the problem?” She set down the wine before she could do something rash, like tossing it to the floor. “You didn’t come to me a virgin, Alexi, nor did I expect you to. That’s one of the big differences between us.”

“There’s a bigger difference between a virgin and a—”

He broke off, appalled with himself. He wouldn’t have meant it. Stumbling, horrified apologies whirled through his head. But he could see by the way her head jerked up, the way her color drained, that there would be no taking back even the unsaid.

“I think,” she said in an odd voice, “you’d better go.”

“We haven’t finished.”

“I don’t want you here. Even a whore can choose.”

His face was as pale as hers. “Bess, I didn’t mean that. I could never mean that. I want to understand—”

“No, you don’t.” She cut him off, her voice so thick with tears that she had to fight for every word. “You never wanted to understand, Alexi. You never wanted to hear the one thing I needed you to believe. Now the only thing you need to understand is that I don’t want to see you again.”

He felt something rip apart in his gut. “You can’t have that.”

“If you don’t leave now, I’ll call Security. I’ll call your captain, I’ll call the mayor.” Desperation was rising like a flood. “Whatever it takes to keep you away from me.”

His eyes narrowed, sharpened. “You can call God Almighty. It won’t stop me.”

“Maybe this will.” She gripped her hands tightly together and looked just over his shoulder. “I don’t love you, I don’t want you, I don’t need you. It was fun while it lasted, but the game’s over. You can let yourself out.”

She turned away and walked quickly up the stairs. There had been hurt in his eyes. If there had been anger, she knew, he would have come after her, but there had been hurt, and she made it to the bedroom alone. With her hands over her face, she waited, biting back sobs, until she heard the door close downstairs. With a sound of mourning, she lowered herself to the floor and tasted her own tears. They were bitter.

Impatient and unsympathetic, Mikhail paced the floor of Alex’s sparsely furnished apartment. “You don’t answer your phone,” he was saying. “You don’t return messages.” He kicked a discarded shirt aside. The apartment was a shambles. “Lucky for you I came instead of Mama. She’d box your ears for living like a pig.”

“I gave the staff the month off.” With the concentrated care of the nearly drunk, Alex poured another glass of vodka from the half-empty bottle on the table.

“And drinking alone in the middle of the day.”

“So, join me.” Alex gestured carelessly toward the kitchen, where dishes were piled high. “Bound to be a clean glass somewhere.”