to be. We’re waiting on an updated dossier now.” Jessica’s next pause spelled more bad news. “In fact, we learned the man you made a pass with yesterday near your office was Dominick Volkov. And well, Dominick hasn’t been seen in fifteen years, just like his older cousin Grigory Volkov.”
Ana’s eyes dropped to the shiny, new wood floors, taking a moment to breathe. To figure a way out of this mess. But there was only one way, wasn’t there?
Ana pushed back in her seat, slowly stood, and faced A.J. to look directly into his eyes. “My real last name isn’t Quinn,” she whispered, her voice shaky. “And my parents were Volkov spies.”
Chapter Seventeen
Ana clutched her arms tightly across her abdomen, concern about her see-through shirt forgotten at the sight of A.J.’s mouth dropping open in surprise. The hurt and shock in his green eyes struck her with fierce intensity and had her drawing in quick, panicky breaths. “I’m sorry.” She turned and brushed past him, bolting for the door.
“Ana, wait!” he called out, but his words only had her moving faster.
She paused in the hallway to determine a direction. The right would lead her outside.
“Ana,” A.J. called softly this time, his voice heavy with disbelief. When she glimpsed back into the room, finding his hands on his hips, his gaze set on her, there was more than shock in the lines of his face. Disappointment. Disgust. Her worst fears.
“I’m sorry,” she mouthed, then chose her target, the back of the house.
Once outside on the porch, she hurried to the railing that overlooked a landscape that appeared to go on for miles. She clutched the wide-plank strip of wood and sealed her eyes closed, gasping in fresh, although hot, air.
The sight of A.J.’s expression was enough to crush her, to stamp out her hope that something would develop between them. This was why she’d vowed to reveal her true identity before she let her guard down, let his lips touch hers.
The pained look on his face had enveloped his features like thick fog over San Francisco Bay. What if he still viewed her with apprehension even after she explained herself? What if a seed of doubt now grew in the back of his mind and he’d always worry she’d betray the country as her parents had?
Her body went rigid. Strung tight, like always. The relaxed sensation from their playful and flirtatious banter in the kitchen was gone, and she desperately wanted it back.
She wanted A.J. to look at her with affection and longing as he’d done when she was pinned against his strong, muscular frame. Like a woman deserving of love and passion. Not the daughter of Russian spies who made a career of betraying the U.S.
Tears leaked from her closed eyes. Unexpected and unwanted.
She clenched one hand into a fist and slammed it down onto the wood, so angry at herself for believing anything would ever change. Even if her mission was successful, she’d always be Anastasia Chernyshevsky, the daughter of Volkov spies. Daughter of traitors.
Years and years of punishing herself for her parents’ sins had a painful sob ripping free from her chest. All the signs she’d missed from her parents while growing up. Signs she’d probably, in part, ignored because she loved them.
My red angel, my sweet Russian doll, her dad had once said upon entering her bedroom while her mom brushed the tangles from her hair, the view of the Golden Gate Bridge out her window.
You’re silly, Daddy. I’m not a Russian doll. I’m an American one.
Her dad had revealed a surprise behind his back, and her mom had to stop combing her auburn hair when Ana turned to face her father, excitement in her eyes, knowing he was about to perform a little magic. The blank scrolled paper in his hand was much more than it appeared.
Abracadabra, her father had said with a broad smile and sprinkled his “magic potion” across the page. A drawing of a beautiful doll that resembled Ana appeared before her eyes.
Wow, Daddy. That’s your best sketch yet! She’d clutched the paper and lifted it to show her mom before the image would fade away like normal. Like “magic” as her dad had always said.
At the feel of strong hands clasping her upper arms, Ana pulled herself out of the memory and went still as A.J. pressed his chest tight to her back, his chin settling on top of her head. “Shhh, it’s okay. It’ll be okay, I promise.”