Sergei

by Roxie Rivera

  "I'm fine, honey." Mama patted his hand. "Now give my purse to Bianca. Fuchsia just isn't your color."

  "Yes, ma'am." Smiling, Sergei slipped the purse strap off his arm and held it out to me. After I had slipped the second purse on my shoulder, he took my hand and tucked it into the curve of his arm. Glad to have him with me this evening, I entered the reception hall with a grin on my face.

  Our mismatched trio didn't turn nearly as many heads as I had expected. We made our way through the receiving line with only one really awkward encounter with Kevan. Mama must have sensed the weird vibe because she made a production of needing to find a seat. I was only too happy to hurry her along to our table.

  We had been seated with my mother's two widowed older sisters and their two sons, both college basketball players, and their girlfriends. Shawn was pre-med and Trey was studying business. One of the girlfriends was studying fashion marketing. The other one wanted to be a lawyer.

  Once the introductions were out of the way, the inevitable questions about Sergei started. He neatly replied that he worked in construction and managed to wrap up that issue. Of course, then my aunts wanted to know where he was born and why he had come to Houston. Where does your mother live? Do you have any family here? Do you go to church?

  I wanted to crawl under the table and hide. Sergei took it all in stride and seemed only too happy to chat them up. In the same way he had impressed my mother, he won over my Aunt Sara and Aunt Penny. I didn't miss the shy yet flirty smiles from the two girlfriends across the tables. Something about Trey and Shawn's looks had me suspicious.

  Did they know what Sergei really was? Had they seen him fight perhaps? In the last week, I had done a little digging and learned that there was heavy betting action from the universities in town. Vivian had informed me that select frats had exclusive invites to the matches because most of the members had such deep pockets. The thought of Trey and Shawn betting their hard-earned money on fights didn’t make me happy. Maybe I needed to chat with the two of them later…

  Although this wedding reception wasn’t anywhere near as rowdy as Erin and Ivan's, it was still a beautiful evening. The food, the flowers, the cake, the band—everything was top-notch. When the dance floor opened after the first and parent dances had been completed, Sergei leaned over and cupped my face in his massive hand. "You owe me a dance, milaya moya."

  "Yes, I suppose I do."

  Sergei led me out to the packed floor and held me close. The differences in our heights made things interesting. I considered dragging over a chair to stand on so I could rest my cheek to his shoulder. Glancing around, I noticed that quite a few of the men in attendance tonight were tall with shorter dates. None of them were as big as Sergei, but then, he seemed to be a true one-of-a-kind.

  After a few dances with me, Sergei found himself dancing with Aunt Sara and Aunt Penny. He was a good sport about it, even when Aunt Sara got a little tipsy from all that champagne and pinched his taut backside. I thought poor Trey was going to fall out of his chair when he spotted his mother getting so fresh.

  "Eye bleach," Trey said and shoved out of his chair. "I've got to find me some eye bleach." Slapping his hand against Sergei's back, he said, "Man, come on. Let's take a break from this estrogen-fest, okay?"

  When Sergei glanced at me to see if I minded, I waved my hand. I had a feeling he needed the escape and would enjoy meeting some more male members of my family. He had been such a doting date all afternoon and evening and had earned some free time. I doubted he would have found the conversation at the table very interesting anyhow.

  Alone with my gossiping aunts and mother, I sipped some champagne and watched the dance floor. My gaze landed on Kevan who danced unsteadily with a woman I didn't recognize. He had clearly had too much to drink. I wondered why none of the groomsmen had cut him off and put him in a corner to sober up with some coffee.

  Kevan rudely groped the breast of the woman he danced with, and she rightfully slapped at his hand. I waited to see if someone would save him from himself, but no one stepped forward. He wandered off the dance floor and disappeared from my view. I had a feeling he was going to get himself into trouble. Should I chase him down and see if he needed a ride home?

  "I like this one, Bianca."

  My Aunt Penny's remark interrupted my thoughts. Not sure what she meant, I asked, "Ma'am?"

  "Sergei," she said with a lift of her chin in his direction. "He's sweet as pie."

  "Well, I don't know about that." Would she say the same thing if I told her he made his living enforcing for the Russian mob?

  "I know," Aunt Penny replied confidently. "I can tell a good man when I see one. That one? He's good all the way through."

  "And handsome!" Aunt Sara commented with an envious sigh. "He'll make some beautiful babies with you, Bianca."

  "Oh, sweet Lord!" Laughing, I put up both hands and rose from my seat. "On that note, I'm out of here. Mama, do you want some cake?"

  "No, honey."

  Leaving my two aunts and my mother cackling together, I shook my head and made my way along the edge of the dance floor to the cake station. I recognized the delicate sugar flowers as the work of a baker I respected and anticipated the first bite of her perfectly moist and not too sweet Italian cream cake.

  Plate in hand, I turned to leave the table—and slammed right into Kevan. Somehow I managed not to get cake on either one of us. "Kevan! Whoa!"

  "Sorry, Bibi." His sour beer breath wafted over me, and he leered at my chest. "You look real pretty tonight."

  "Thanks, Kevan. Um—how much have you had to drink?"

  He flapped his hand. "It's okay. I can't get into trouble for drinking."

  "Because you have a designated driver?" I asked hopefully.

  He puffed out his chest. "Nope. Because I've got a badge! There's nothing I can't get away with," he stated proudly. "Just you wait and see!"

  I didn't like the sound of that at all. "Kevan, I don't know what you're planning to do with all that super police power of yours, but it had better not be something that hurts me."

  His expression turned angry. "You hurt me."

  "How?"

  "You broke up with me."

  "Really, Kevan? What are we? Fifteen? Adults stop dating all the time. It's not like we were serious."

  "Maybe you weren't, but I was." His voice rose in pitch and volume as he got more agitated. In his drunken state, I didn't know what he would say so I decided to carefully extricate myself from the situation.

  "Well, I'm sorry I wasn't more clear when we started dating, Kevan. I never meant to hurt you, but I wasn't looking for anything serious."

  Holding my cake plate to the side, I stepped around him and headed back toward the table where my mother was now watching me with concern. Unfortunately, my plan to escape Kevan without causing a scene didn't work. He followed close behind me, running his mouth and drawing unwanted attention.

  "But you're looking for something serious now, huh? With him?" He snarled angrily. "What's he got that I don't, huh?"

  I didn't touch that one. No, I kept my eyes forward and my feet moving. Please, just turn around and go back to your friends.

  "I thought you were something special, Bibi. I thought you were worth waiting for, but now I realize that you're just a no-good slut."

  The last word echoed in the reception hall. The music had lowered to a mere whisper as the DJ had been preparing to make an announcement of some kind so just about every freaking person in the ballroom heard my ex-boyfriend call me that awful, ugly name.

  Amid the gasps of outrage, I saw my mother pushing herself out of her seat to give Kevan a piece of her mind. My aunts were right behind her. Trey and Shawn were striding across the dance floor with pissed off expressions. Hoping to head off a fight that would only ruin the bride's night, I turned to tell Kevan to take it outside—but I was too late.

  From heaven only knew where, Sergei had swept in behind Kevan. He tapped the police officer on the shoulder. "H
ey."

  Kevan's face registered the recognition of Sergei's deep voice. Whirling around with his fist raised, he swung at Sergei. It was such a dumb move. With the ease of a seasoned fighter, Sergei reared back and popped Kevan right in the face. Kevan's head snapped back—and he dropped like a sack of freaking rocks.

  Jaw dropped, I stared at Sergei. Holy. Shit.

  And then all hell broke loose. People were clapping and shouting and whistling. The bride started caterwauling as Corey rushed to defend his friend. Two of the groomsmen joined him, but Sergei held up a warning finger. Over the noise of the crowd, he calmly warned, "You three had better think twice before you come at me, because I can do that all night long. No one talks to Bianca like that, understand?"

  The groom nodded. "Yeah, man. I get it." Staring down at Kevan, he shook his head. "He overstepped the line. He had this one coming."

  Although Corey had diffused the situation, the bride demanded we be thrown out of the reception. I didn't blame my cousin Lulu for wanting us out of her celebration. Even so, it was embarrassing as hell to be tossed out like that. As Sergei helped my mother into his SUV, I kept glancing around, half-expecting the police to pull up at any moment to arrest him for assault.

  There were only a handful of words spoken between Sergei and Mama on the drive back to her apartment. I sat in the backseat, stared out the window and tried to sort out my conflicted feelings. As the shock of seeing Sergei flatten Kevan began to fade, I grew increasingly more upset. Having someone call me a slut in front of hundreds of my family and friends was beyond humiliating. I hated to think what they were all saying about me right now.

  And Sergei? What were they saying about him? Knowing my two loud-mouthed cousins, Trey and Shawn were probably spinning all sorts of stories about him. Corey and Kevan's friends were all police officers. No doubt they were running Sergei's name right now and finding out all the sordid details of his life to spread around the wedding. By this time tomorrow, he would probably have a reputation that included three stints in the federal pen, a murder rap and outstanding international warrants!

  Why had he reacted with his fists first? Didn't he understand that he was asking for trouble? With his connections, knocking out a police officer was the very last complication he needed. Was this the way it would always be with him? Punch first, ask questions later?

  We arrived at the apartment complex, and after Sergei helped me get Mama inside, he stepped out into the breezeway between apartments to make a phone call. I figured this was one of those things he needed to report to his boss. Once Kevan sobered up, he was probably going to make problems for Sergei and his friends.

  "Don't you be mad at him," Mama said as I helped her into her nightgown. "He defended your honor."

  "I'm a grown woman, Mama. I don't need a man to punch out someone else in defense of my honor."

  "Maybe you don't," she conceded, "but sometimes it needs to be done. Kevan was out of line. He had no right to speak to you like that. What do you think Perry would have done?"

  My lips parted but I didn't have the answer. Shrugging, I admitted, "I don't know."

  "He would have done the same thing Sergei did. There is no way he would have allowed any man to say such a nasty thing."

  "Maybe, but that doesn't make it right."

  Mama sighed and settled into her favorite chair in the living room. "Well…don't you be mean to Sergei. He's a nice boy, and I like him."

  "All right, Mama." I glanced around the living room. "Do you want me to get your meds?"

  She shook her head and patted the phone on the end table next to her. "I'm about to call Agnes. She'll come out and get me situated for the night. You go on home."

  The door to the apartment opened and Sergei stepped inside. Abashed and clearly regretful, he crouched down in front of my mother. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Bradshaw. I didn’t mean to ruin your evening."

  "You didn't. Kevan did that, not you." She bent down and whispered something to Sergei that I couldn't hear. The two of them sharing secrets just irritated me to no end.

  "Night, Mama." I kissed her cheek and hugged her. "I'll call you in the morning."

  "Okay, honey. Good night. I love you."

  "I love you, too."

  Out in the warm, still night, Sergei smartly didn't say a single word. We rode to my house in complete silence and still hadn't uttered a syllable by the time we entered the house. Sergei trailed me into the entryway and watched me kick off my shoes and drop my handbag in its usual spot on the table there.

  Finally, he found the courage to speak. "Baby, I'm sorry."

  "Don't even start with the baby and milaya moya stuff, Sergei. You're not going to fix this one by seducing me and making me forget why I'm upset with you."

  "What was I supposed to do, Bianca?" He seemed genuinely at a loss.

  "Nothing."

  "Nothing?" he repeated in disbelief. "Bianca, that man insulted you."

  "So? You think that's the first time someone has ever insulted me? News flash, Sergei! It happens all the time. Remember Lidia?" The sour look on his face told me he did. "I didn't punch her lights out even though I was sorely tempted."

  "This was different."

  "Was it?'

  "He called you a—." As if unable to even bring himself to utter the word in my presence, Sergei shook his head. "No one says that about you. No one! You're my girlfriend, and I'll fight any man who says something so nasty to you."

  "You can't just go around whacking people because they piss you off, Sergei. That's not the way it works in the civilized world. Maybe in the underworld that's how you guys settle things, but you can't do that in my world."

  "Is that what this is about? You think I don't know the difference? That I can't tell when a man deserves to be hit and when he doesn't?"

  "Does any man ever really deserve to be hit, Sergei?"

  "Hell yes! If they insult you, they deserve more than that."

  Agog at his strident defense of me, I asked simply, "Why?"

  "Why?" he echoed. "Bianca, you're mine. You belong to me. I protect what's mine." He swallowed in a way that seemed almost nervous. "I love you, Bianca. I will love you until the moment I draw my last breath, and even then, I'll probably go on loving you until the end of time."

  The air between us sizzled. I couldn't breathe as his admission of love wound itself around me like a warm embrace. It wasn't the scary thing I had imagined it to be. No, it was quite the opposite. Instead of dreading the way those three words would change things between us, I relished them. It occurred to me that I had been waiting for him to say them all along. For the first time in my life, I didn't want to play it safe or easy. No, I wanted the most impossibly complicated thing in the world. I wanted Sergei. Because…

  "I love you, Sergei."

  His face slackened with shock. A second later, he grinned. "Yes?"

  Nodding, I smiled at him. "Yes."

  "Lyubimaya." Utilizing his brute strength, Sergei lifted me off the floor and captured my mouth in a tender kiss. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and my legs around his waist. He used the nearest wall to brace my back while he attacked my mouth with increasingly passionate kisses. "Say it again, Bianca."

  His breathless plea made my heart flutter. God, this man loved me so much. All he wanted was for me to love him back. That was it.

  Caressing his face, I peered into his proud, handsome face. "I love you, Sergei."

  "I'll do right by you, Bianca. Whatever it takes, I'll get out and give you the life you deserve."

  Taken aback by the vow he had just sworn to me, I claimed his mouth. It wouldn’t be that simple, and I feared what it would cost him, but I knew he wouldn't break that promise. Somehow, some way, he was going to get out of the mob and build a future with me.

  Dotting his lips along the ticklish curve of my neck, he said, "I think we should take this to the bedroom. This is the sort of thing a couple celebrates with a marathon of lovemaking, isn't it?"

  "Oh,
I really hope so."

  A teasing smile lit up his face. "I thought you said I couldn't fix this one by seducing you?"

  "Apparently, I was wrong." I kissed his neck and nipped at his jaw. "Take me upstairs, Sergei. Show me how much you love me."

  He laughed and easily carried me up to the second floor. "It might be years before I let you out of bed."

  "Promises, promises…"

  Chapter Fifteen

  Humming softly to myself in the stockroom, I pressed the button on the automated racks that carried our bridal inventory and waited for the next dress on my list to approach. After the magic of my weekend with Sergei, I hadn't really wanted to come into work today, but running a small business, even with the amazing staff here, required my presence. We were knee-deep in the busiest part of the wedding season so this was the time when it was all-hands on deck.

  The rack slowed to a stop, and I ran my fingers along the tags attached to each hanger until I found the simple sheath. Plucking it free, I transferred it to a rolling rack of gowns I was preparing for an afternoon appointment. The bride-to-be was two months pregnant and preparing for a quickie South Padre Island ceremony. She wanted something light and flirty with enough coverage in the front to provide some camouflage. Thankfully, we had about a dozen different gowns in stock that were ready to go with only minimal alterations.

  A door squealed behind me. Thinking it was one of the consultants, I didn't pay it much attention. There were seven of them on the floor right now, and it was common for them to dart into the back if their first four or five picks didn't make the bride swoon.

  "Bibi?"

  Startled by Kevan's voice, I spun around and frowned at him. "What are you doing back here?"

  Dressed in his police officer uniform, he gestured to his bruised cheek and jaw. "I came to apologize for what I said." His downcast gaze telegraphed his regret and embarrassment. "I shouldn't drink like that. It brings out the worst in me."

  "Clearly," I said tightly.

  "I didn't mean it, Bibi. I know you're not…you know."

  "Well, that's nice, Kevan. Unfortunately, an entire room filled with our friends heard you call me that so saying you're sorry now doesn't exactly fix that, does it?"