Vaughn (Russian Dragon Heat 2)

by Carole Mortimer

  Hard enough to believe this man was married; even harder to imagine him doing anything as tame as attending a ballet. Despite those outer trappings of civilization, Nikolai looked as if he would be more at home watching the gladiators of old fighting the lions in an arena to the death than he was the ballet. Especially if he was the one with the right to say yay or nay in regard to whether the gladiator lived or died.

  “You can let go of her hand now, Volkov,” Vaughn bit out harshly.

  Instead of releasing her, mockery now glittered in those pale gray eyes as Nikolai lifted her hand to place a kiss above her knuckles. “My wife made me promise to invite you to have dinner with us this evening.” His taunting gaze shifted to the other man as he issued the invitation.

  Impossible to miss the electric charge of challenge that existed between these two men. Two very dangerous men.

  Nikolai Volkov’s power lay in the complete confidence with which he carried himself, those gray eyes daring anyone to challenge him and promising retribution of a lethal kind if they did.

  Vaughn’s power was just as strong, only different, Anastasia once again sensing that something primitive burned in the depths behind his outwardly urbane appearance. He exuded a danger no man, or woman, would be wise to ignore.

  “Vaughn is welcome to accompany you, of course.” Nikolai Volkov seemed to know of and yet ignore that brooding danger as he continued to bait the other man.

  Vaughn was going to kill the bastard! Not just for the way Volkov had barged his way in here uninvited, but also for holding Anastasia’s hand for far too long.

  Mine.

  Yes, Anastasia was theirs, and seeing another man so much as touch her made Vaughn want to rip the man’s head from his too-broad shoulders.

  He had never met Nikolai before today, but the fitness of the other man’s body and the arrogant way he carried himself denied the fact that he was aged in his mid-forties with a wife and two young children.

  He was also going to be a very dead man if he continued to touch Anastasia.

  The mockery he could see in the other man’s gaze told him Nikolai was well aware of Vaughn’s possessive feelings and was inwardly amused by them.

  Worse, Volkov’s knowledge of dragon shifters had probably also told him, from the growl in Vaughn’s voice, that Anastasia was his fated mate.

  The other man was now enjoying himself immensely at Vaughn’s expense.

  What the hell the Pendragon brothers had been doing by allowing this human the knowledge of dragon shifters, Vaughn had no idea. One wrong step from Volkov and Vaughn didn’t care what this man’s arrangement was with the Pendragons, he would enjoy being the one to terminate him.

  “I believe you were involved in an…almost fatal accident three months ago,” Volkov said to him silkily. “I trust you’re now fully recovered from your injuries?”

  “You were badly hurt?” Anastasia voiced her concern.

  Vaughn’s jaw tightened. “It was nothing,” he dismissed flatly, his gaze remaining fixed on the other man in warning. “If you would like to collect your bag, Anastasia, and anything else you’re going to need to go to the theater this morning…” He forced his voice to remain calm. “We really should be going now, and I’m sure Mr. Volkov has somewhere else he needs to be,” he added with challenge.

  The other man smirked. “I do, as it so happens.” He turned to Anastasia. “I really hope you will be able to join us for dinner this evening? Our other guests will be Gregori Markovic and his wife, Gaia. They attended the ballet with us two evenings ago and would also love the opportunity to meet you.” Volkov gave a wolfish grin. “We will both be in our wives’ good graces if you accept.”

  Vaughn could see Anastasia’s indecision and could only guess the reason for it. The most obvious being that she was being invited to have dinner with the head of the London bratva and his second-in-command and their wives. If she refused, she risked insulting these powerful men. If she accepted, she would then have to spend the evening with those very dangerous men and their wives.

  Vaughn stepped forward to stand at Anastasia’s side. “I’m sure Anastasia and I would both be happy to accept your invitation.”

  Volkov gave a triumphant smile. “I had a feeling you might. Until tonight, then, Miss Chenkova.” He once again clasped Anastasia’s hand and raised it to his lips.

  This time, Vaughn was unable to suppress the growl rising in this throat. Not that Volkov appeared in the least concerned by it. Instead, he looked so unperturbed, it was almost as if he was used to being growled at on a regular basis.

  Maybe he was?

  Vaughn doubted, despite their obvious friendship, that the Pendragon brothers would be any less irritated by this man than he was.

  “I’ll go and collect my things,” Anastasia announced before hurriedly leaving the room.

  “It’s as I suspected,” Volkov drawled as soon as the two men were alone together.

  Vaughn’s expression hardened as he turned from watching Anastasia. “Much as I appreciate you coming here to personally welcome me to London, I have this situation well in hand. And I’m not interested in anything you might suspect.”

  “I make it a policy to always personally meet all dragon shifters who visit my city.” The tone of Volkov’s voice was just as unrelenting. “Talking of which, is Anastasia yet aware of what I suspect?”

  Vaughn bristled. “That would depend upon what that is.”

  The other man shrugged. “That she’s your mate. Your one and only fated mate.”

  “How the fuck do you know so much about us?” Vaughn’s hands were clenched into frustrated fists at his sides. “If it’s from the Pendragons. then they had no right to take you so much into their confidence without immediately wiping your memory of such knowledge.”

  Nikolai’s eyes narrowed. “We have long had an understanding of tolerance with the Pendragons, one that doesn’t include wiping any of my memories. To date, that understanding does not include the Romanovs,” Volkov added in a hard voice. “So far, I’ve overlooked your less than respectful attitude toward me, but if you harm anyone in my city, for any reason, without first discussing it with me or Gregori, that lenience will immediately cease. Do I make myself clear?”

  Vaughn had to give the other man credit for having the balls to stand up to a dragon shifter he must know was so much more physically powerful than he was. Especially so when he had recently found his fated mate. It was a time when they were at their most feral and a threat to any other male who came near their mate.

  He breathed in deeply before forcing himself to speak politely. “I apologize if I have been less than gracious to you, and I appreciate you taking the time to welcome me here.”

  Volkov’s tension eased, and he gave another one of those mocking grins. “I love seeing it when you guys fall for your mate,” he mused. “It’s like watching an unconquered mountain collapse at the feet of a tender sapling.”

  That well described the differences between Vaughn and Anastasia. He was tall and powerfully muscular to her slender elegance. He was aged two hundred to her twenty. And yet the fates had decided they were a perfect match for each other.

  Vaughn had no intention of questioning that decision when his emotions were already so attuned to Anastasia and her future happiness.

  And what if part of that happiness was not to accept him as her mate?

  Take.

  Claim.

  Mate.

  In another time, Vaughn might have agreed with his dragon and simply taken what he wanted, in the sure knowledge that the fates were never wrong, and he was as much Anastasia’s perfect life-mate as she was his. But that arrogance wasn’t acceptable in this day and age, and the last thing he wanted was to force a situation on Anastasia that she didn’t want.

  As long as they didn’t begin their mating, Anastasia would be able to walk away from him and continue with her life, to marry and have children with a human male.

  She would never experienc
e life as the precious mate of a dragon shifter, but as she would have no knowledge of that either, it would be of little relevance to her.

  Vaughn wouldn’t be so lucky in that what remained of his long life would be hollow and empty. He wouldn’t die, like the Pendragon brothers would have if their mates hadn’t all accepted them, but he would only be a shell of his former self, the future bleak and so very lonely.

  It was a fate worse than death.

  It was also one Vaughn knew he wouldn’t hesitate to accept if Anastasia decided to refuse him.

  “The fates have chosen well for you, my friend.” Nikolai’s hand squeezed Vaughn’s shoulder reassuringly.

  They had.

  They truly had.

  Anastasia was everything and more than Vaughn had ever dared to dream of in his mate.

  And yet she might still refuse to accept him.

  Chapter Six

  “Who on earth are you?”

  Vaughn turned to face the man who had spoken to him with a mixture of arrogance and flirtation. A man Vaughn instantly recognized as Sergei Rusikov, the principal male dancer with The Turov Ballet Company, having seen him perform opposite Anastasia the previous evening.

  Vaughn and Anastasia had arrived at the theater only a short time ago, having made the journey here in a cab in complete silence. As it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, Vaughn had decided to leave the situation alone.

  He was now leaning against the wall outside Anastasia’s dressing room while she went inside to drop off her handbag and jacket and put on her dancing slippers before going to the rehearsal.

  The male ballet dancer now standing in front of Vaughn with that challenging expression on his face was more stunningly beautiful than many women Vaughn had seen.

  Sergei was an inch or two under six feet in height, with fashionably untidy and overlong dark hair. His blue eyes were outlined with black kohl, lashes dark and thick, a definer added to the high cheekbones many women would kill for, his pouting lips glossed a pale pink. He had the lithe and muscular body of the experienced dancer that he was, displayed to advantage in the fitted black tights and a white cropped top.

  It showed in the warring emotions on that beautiful face that the other man didn’t know whether to be suitably outraged at Vaughn’s presence backstage or to flirt with him.

  “He’s with me, Sergei,” Anastasia was the one to answer as she stepped out of her changing room. “Vaughn is a friend visiting from Russia and has Leonid’s permission to be here,” she added persuasively.

  “In that case, he also has mine.” Sergei placed a delicate hand on Vaughn’s forearm as he gazed up at him with those limpid and inviting blue eyes. “What exactly do you mean, Stasia, when you say he’s ‘with you’?”

  Vaughn had never been attracted to another man, and he wasn’t now either. Oh he could see Sergei’s appeal but Vaughn could no longer see or appreciated anyone’s beauty but Anastasia’s. Nor did he like the way in which the other man had shortened his mate’s name in that familiar manner.

  Anastasia deliberately linked her arm with Vaughn’s. “With me,” she repeated pointedly.

  Sergei heaved a disappointed sigh. “Why are all the gorgeous ones straight,” he muttered as he walked off with that distinctive strut of a dancer, with perhaps a little extra wiggle to the tightness of his glutes for Vaughn’s benefit.

  Vaughn chuckled at the latter. “He’s…interesting.”

  Anastasia knew that Sergei could be a complete bitch when he didn’t receive the deference he felt should be given to his success, or if he wanted something or someone.

  In the way he obviously wanted Vaughn.

  Which, to Anastasia’s surprise, had brought out a possessive streak in her she hadn’t realized she was capable of feeling.

  But if what Vaughn had claimed was true, and she was his now, then the same was equally true that Vaughn was hers.

  Only on a protection level, of course.

  As Vaughn meant to protect her, she now felt the same obligation to protect him. The vivacious Sergei would eat Vaughn for breakfast. Probably quite literally, she realized, as a blush warmed her cheeks.

  She removed her hand from the crook of Vaughn’s arm before stepping back. “I have to get on stage before Leonid throws a fit at my tardiness.”

  Vaughn glanced at the gold watch secured about his wrist as the two of them walked down the hallway. “It’s not even eight o’clock yet.”

  She gave him a sideways glance. “I’m guessing that you would normally still be in bed at this time.” A comment that immediately caused her to imagine Vaughn lying in bed, all that blond hair loose and tousled on his pillow, his muscular body completely naked beneath the bedcovers. Even the thought of all that golden nakedness caused a thrill of pleasure to course down the length of her spine.

  Anastasia could now secretly look forward to spending the evening with Vaughn, even if it was at the home of Nikolai Volkov and his wife. Going to the home of a member of the London bratva was a little daunting, and she couldn’t help but wonder what type of woman would have married such a man, likewise Gregori Markovic. But tonight was as close to a date as Anastasia had ever had.

  She felt a thrill of excitement that Vaughn would be the man accompanying her on that first date.

  She hadn’t imagined that frisson of excitement between them earlier, or Vaughn’s intention of kissing her. What would it be like to be kissed by him? To do more than kiss him—

  “There you are!” Irina stood in front of her, the faithful Lev at her side. “What’s with kicking me out of our hotel suite?” she accused.

  It was the first time Anastasia had seen the other woman since Vaughn stated he would be the one sharing a suite with her in future.

  Anastasia reached out and clasped the other woman’s hands. Vaughn might have made the decision about Irina moving out of their hotel room, but Anastasia had to work with her, both here and when they returned to Russia. “I’m so sorry about last night. Vau— Mr. Romanov was adamant he was sharing the suit with me, and nothing I said would change his mind. After some conversation, Leonid agreed with him. I’m so sorry you had to move your things in such a hurry. Please believe me—”

  “Anastasia, I’m just kidding you.” Irina grinned. “Having a single room all to myself has its advantages.”

  “It certainly does.” Lev’s arm moved about her waist as he pulled her closer.

  Which told Anastasia that the couple had probably spent the whole night together in Irina’s single room.

  “If you really want to say you’re sorry, we can have dinner together this evening, and you can tell me all about it,” Irina suggested. “Unless you think Mr. Romanov might object?” she teased.

  “I’m sure he would,” Anastasia answered dryly. “But as it happens, the two of us have a dinner engagement outside the hotel this evening.”

  “Another night, then—”

  “Are we keeping you three from something more important?” Leonid snapped at their tardiness at not immediately taking to the stage to warm up before the rehearsal began. “Or in Anastasia’s case, perhaps someone.” He gave a pointed glance at Vaughn now sitting in one of the seats at the front of the theater, his shoulders so wide, he took up extra space in the seats either side of him.

  She straightened at the director’s rebuke, knowing that as far as Leonid was concerned, nothing was more important than the dance. She’d felt the same way before meeting Vaughn.

  She had no idea what was so different about him, but she felt as if she knew him. That perhaps he was destined to mean more to her than anything or anyone else ever had in her life before.

  She’d heard of soul mates, read about them in those numerous romance novels she liked to read.

  Was it possible that Vaughn was her soul mate?

  That she was that to him?

  He certainly seemed to have leveled the intensity of his attention solely on her, was even now following her every move with those piercing green ey
es as she warmed up before rehearsal began.

  Perhaps he would try to kiss her again before or after they went out this evening.

  She really hoped that would be the case.

  Vaughn desperately wanted to kiss Anastasia.

  To do more than kiss her.

  In fact, she looked edible in the black dress she was wearing in readiness for the two of them departing for the Volkovs’ home for dinner.

  They had both showered—separately, unfortunately—once they returned to the hotel this evening, Vaughn using the bathroom after Anastasia had showered and then gone into her bedroom and closed the door behind her.

  She had left her hair loose tonight, the pale and silky swath reaching almost down to her bottom. A light dusting of makeup—far less than Sergei had been wearing this morning—emphasized the purple-blue of her eyes and the hollows of her cheeks, a deep rose gloss applied to her full and pouting lips.

  The black dress had thin shoulder straps and was fitted across her small breasts and tiny waist, before flaring out to just above knee-length. She wore strappy black sandals that added three inches to her height.

  It wasn’t a provocative dress by any means, and yet Vaughn still wanted to eat her.

  She smelled fucking delicious! A combination of that honeysuckle and oranges and a more potent and spicy feminine perfume which was purely Anastasia.

  As evidence of her arousal when she looked at him?

  He certainly hoped that was the case. “You look very beautiful,” he complimented huskily.

  “So do you. Well…not beautiful, exactly.” Her cheeks bloomed with color. “Handsome,” she corrected slightly breathlessly. “You look very handsome.”

  He smiled warmly. “Thank you. Are we ready to go” He held out his arm in invitation. “I’d really hate to annoy Volkov by being late.”

  Anastasia laughed at his obvious insincerity as she linked her arm through the crook of his. “I thought he was a friend of yours?” she prompted as they left the suite and walked down the hallway to enter the elevator.