Lion of Midnight

by Aliyah Burke

  Dismissed by a kid.

  Cleo lost track of their conversation as a man appeared on the porch. Oh, damn! Thick black hair teased his shoulders. His face was all angles and masculinity. With a body similar to Nik’s, this man wore a gray sweatshirt and thigh-molding jeans along with cowboy boots. Her breath caught when his gaze moved from Nik and the child he held to her. Brilliant emerald green eyes identical to the little girl’s met hers. A grin curved up one side of his mouth, and he came down the steps.

  “Hello,” he said, his voice nearly as seductive as Nik’s. “Welcome, Cleo. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you. I hope it’s okay to call you Cleo. You’ll call me Marcus.”

  Why am I not surprised a man related to Nik is also demanding? She offered her hand, and her pulse accelerated as his closed over hers. “Cleo’s fine. Thank you for allowing me to visit.”

  He bent down and kissed her hand. “Thank you for coming.”

  “Marcus.” The single word dropped the temperature even more when Nik spoke it.

  Devilish delight sparkled in Marcus’ eyes, and he winked at her.

  “Marcus, stop upsetting Nik.” A feminine voice joined the conversation. Cleo saw the woman who’d been with Nik at the mall. “Hello, Cleo, I’m Kit. Welcome to our home. Marcus, let go of her hand so we can get her out of the cold.”

  And, just like that, Cleo was being escorted up the steps with Kit. Casting a glance over her shoulder, she saw Nik hugging his brother. Nik looked at her, and his eyes heated so much she turned from them.

  “So,” Kit said once they made it to the kitchen. “I hear you met Nik in Russia.”

  Cleo smiled. “Yes. He gave me a private tour of the museum in Novgorod.” She watched Kit dig for something in a cupboard. “Can I help you?”

  “That would be wonderful. Can you turn the oven on to start with? Four-twenty-five.”

  “Of course.” She did. “You have a very beautiful home. And family.”

  “Thank you. Evie loves her uncle, otherwise, she’d be in here, and our son, Marc, is out with his horse who’s about to give birth.”

  “Wow.” She worried her lower lip then sighed. “Can I ask you something?”

  Kit looked up and said, “No, I have no clue why they’re so bossy.” The women laughed, any remaining uncertainty gone in the blink of an eye. “Seriously, ask away.”

  “Nik said you taught at the college. I’m thinking of accepting a position here and would really love to get your opinion on the campus.”

  “Of course.”

  Cleo assisted Kit and asked questions. One time, she looked up to find Nik’s gaze on her. Searing. Bone-melting. He winked, and she knew the resulting shiver was noticed.

  “What’s going on in here?” Marcus asked, kissing his wife on the cheek.

  “We’re discussing how overbearing you men try to be,” Kit sassed.

  Nik slipped behind Cleo and wrapped his arms around her. She leaned into him while she watched Marcus whisper something that made Kit blush.

  “How are you, snežinka?”

  “We’re fine, Nik. I really like Kit. And Marcus.”

  “I don’t like how your throat got all raspy when you said his name.”

  “It goes raspy for you,” Cleo reminded him.

  “It should.”

  “It does. Behave.”

  He pressed against her, and she bit back a whimper. “You’ll be okay if I go see the horses and Marc?”

  “Absolutely. We’re talking about the college.”

  “Be back soon.”

  He kissed her cheek and caressed her ass before walking out with Marcus. Silence filled the kitchen as the women found their breath. They looked at one another and sighed.

  “Where was I?” Kit asked.

  Cleo thought about it, acknowledging that Nik had the ability to make her forget everything but him. She and Kit continued talking while they finished the meal.

  Later that night, Cleo stood at the window, wrapped in a towel, and surveyed out over the land. In the streams of moonlight, she could make out shapes of some horses as they ran and played. A myriad of things raced through her mind.

  “What are you thinking, snežinka?”

  Cleo leaned back against his bare chest. “I was just admiring the view and thinking.”

  His lips teased her temple, and he wrapped her in his powerful arms. “What are you thinking?”

  Spinning in his embrace, she slid her hands up around his neck. “Nothing, really.”

  “Cleo,” he said.

  “I don’t want to talk about it. Please, Nik. I need to get some sleep.”

  Brushing her lips along his, Cleo stepped out of his arms and sat on the edge of the bed. She reached for her brush when the mattress dipped, and she knew Nik had joined her on the bed.

  “Let me,” he murmured, taking the brush out of her hand.

  “What?” She tried to look at him, but Nik held her still.

  “Shhh,” he ordered.

  Cleo swallowed. Nik began to brush her hair. A groan slipped out at the feeling. He used even, smooth strokes. My God, his touch is magic. Her eyes drifted closed, blocking out the low light in the room.

  “You have such beautiful long hair. Thick and luxurious. It’s like silk running over my skin.” His voice was soft and deep, causing her body to react. “I love how it flows over me when I’m sliding in and out of you.”

  Cleo squeezed her thighs together as heat pooled in her core. Her pulse accelerated, and in her belly, longing grew. His strokes never ceased.

  “Do you know how I love the smell of your skin? It’s a lovely mix of scents, but my favorites are the hints of pear and Siberian fir.”

  Her breasts felt heavy, and the soft cotton of the towel abraded her highly sensitive puckered nipples with each inhalation she took. The man behind her shifted, and Cleo held her breath, waiting on pins and needles for his next touch. Although it wasn’t long in coming, it felt like forever. His lips teased her shoulder, his hands gripping her upper arms. Nik placed tiny kisses along her exposed skin. His touch added tingling through every synapse. He murmured in Russian as he slowly kissed his way across her bare back. His tone low and sensual, silvery with seduction. Need welled up within her, near to overflowing.

  “Nik,” she whispered, reaching up to touch the hand on her left arm.

  “Da, snežinka?”

  “What are you doing to me?” Every inch of her burned for more of his touch.

  He kissed her fingers. “Well, it started as me brushing your hair. I think it’s changed.” Slowly, he laid her back, and rose up on one arm. His dark brown eyes stared at her solemnly.

  Cleo licked her lips and watched him raise his hand and trail a finger down her forehead, nose, and chin. Then, it moved lightly over her neck and down to just between her breasts, stopping where the towel rested.

  “Snežinka,” he uttered, his voice deeper with desire.

  “Nikolas.”

  He kissed her neck then right above each breast. She gulped and struggled for air. Cleo reached up and sank her hands into his hair, pulling on the silken strands, holding him tight.

  She felt the towel being opened slowly, and his warm mouth over a highly sensitive breast made her arch into him. Cleo bit her lip and tried to remain quiet. Nik rolled her nipple in his mouth, grazing it with his teeth, only to soothe with his tongue, seconds later. Ripples of pleasure erupted and flowed through her. Nik released it with a pop and rose up to look in her eyes.

  “Tell me, snežinka, tell me you want me.”

  “I want you, Nikolas Andreyevich.”

  His face disappeared, for a moment, before he settled himself between her thighs. Cleo squirmed as his thick cock slid between her nether lips. Her eyes drifted closed.

  “No, keep them open, Cleo. Watch me as we make love.”

  She could only obey. In and out, he stroked her core. Their eyes bore into one another as their bodies moved in perfect tandem. Nik’s eyes swirled with emotion.
One she wasn’t quite ready to believe. There was this look of fierce concentration on his face. The world shrank to the two of them. Cupping his face with her hand, Cleo threaded her fingers in his hair. He murmured softly in Russian as he continued to thrust into her. Nik’s hands slid around the back of her head then he picked up the speed and intensity.

  Cleo spiraled into bliss with Nik right on her heels. He kissed her and rolled them over. He whispered something else in Russian and kissed her, again.

  “What are you saying? You know I don’t speak Russian.”

  Nik pulled out of her and gathered her close. “You’ll learn.”

  A feeling of euphoria settled around her. That time had been off the charts. It seemed more emotional, more powerful. Cleo burrowed closer to his warmth.

  “You cold, snežinka?”

  “No, I’m perfect.”

  “Da, you are.”

  She smiled against his chest and closed her eyes.

  Chapter Sixteen

  When Cleo woke later, the room was dark, and she had been moved up on the bed and covered by the quilt. A powerfully muscled arm rested around her waist. She moved slowly and slipped out of bed. Fumbling in the dark, she pulled on some clothes and snuck out of the room.

  Padding barefoot down the stairs and on toward the kitchen, she noticed a light was on in there. The closer she got, Cleo heard Marcus and Kit arguing. She began to turn around, not wanting to intrude, but the next sentence froze her.

  “It’s not our place to tell Cleo, Marcus, you have to know that,” Kit said with determination.

  “The hell it ain’t. If she’s the one who is my brother’s salvation, she needs to know,” Marcus growled back.

  Salvation?

  “Look, Marcus, what are you going to do? Go up to Cleo and say, ‘The last time I saw my brother was in the Year of our Lord eleven hundred and three. And when he was dying, Freya—’”

  “I get it, Kit. But if—”

  Cleo bolted back to her room. Disbelief filled her at the words she’d overheard. That’s just too ridiculous. She stopped near the bedroom door. Eleven hundreds. That’s not possible. It’s just not. A whimper slipped out, and Cleo clamped her lips together. Get real, Cleo. Let’s face it, I’m exhausted, that’s all. My brain is creating things. I just need to go to bed and get some rest.

  Cleo entered and made her way to the window. Peering out, she took several deep breaths, trying to calm down. In a shaft of moonlight stood a figure. Odd, I thought Marcus was inside. Maybe it’s one of the hands. Just then, the man’s head snapped up and honed in on her. Fear lanced through her. Eyes rimmed by red glared at her. Jerking back, Cleo stumbled to a chair by the bed and climbed into it. Drawing her knees up to her chin, she squeezed her eyes shut.

  “What’s wrong, snežinka?” Nik’s sleep-laden voice split the dark.

  “N…nothing,” Cleo stammered.

  “Don’t lie to me, snežinka.”

  A click preceded light flooding the room. Cleo blinked, only to find Nik sitting up in bed staring at her, the bedding bunched around his waist. Her gaze traveled over his impressive chest, and her heart sped up, again.

  “What’s wrong, Cleo? You look scared. And you’re dressed. Talk to me.”

  “I’m okay,” she claimed, unsuccessfully hiding a shiver.

  Nik frowned and got out of bed. No words were exchanged while he drew on the sweats he’d worn earlier. Then, he strode toward her and knelt at the base of the chair, his hands resting on the legs she’d drawn up earlier.

  “You’re shaking. What scared you?”

  Cleo met his gaze and was amazed by the mass of concern there. “I woke up for… I don’t know, but I did.” She shook her head. “I’m going crazy. I looked out the window, just now, and I swear I saw a man standing down there. He looked right at me, and all I saw was a ring of red where his eyes should have been.”

  Nik’s face changed. It seemed as if all kindness had been sucked out. His expression was hard, deadly, and downright scary.

  Shit! “Nik. What’s wrong?”

  He rose to his feet and looked out the window. When he faced her again, he appeared only slightly less angry. “I don’t see anything out there, Cleo. So, whatever you saw is gone now.”

  He’s not calling me crazy. “Okay,” she whispered.

  “Come to bed, Cleo,” he said, beckoning to her.

  Closing her eyes, she nodded, opened them, and screamed. Nik was at her side in a flash, glancing between her and where she pointed at the window. With a low growl, Nik picked her up just as a knock came on the door.

  “Everything okay? We heard a scream.” Kit’s voice came through the heavy door.

  “Da, Cleo had a bad dream. Sorry to wake you,” Nik replied, rubbing her back.

  Cleo clung to him and listened to him speak to his sister-in-law a bit more. This time, in Russian. When their conversation was over, she still shook.

  “What was it that made you scream?” Nik asked gently but insistently.

  She kept her eyes shut. “Those eyes. They were right there. Pale, very pale blue and a ring of red around the pupil. They seemed so real.”

  Nik moved them, and Cleo heard a click and felt the quilt settle over her. “Sleep now, snežinka.”

  “I’m scared, Nik.” And she was petrified.

  “I’m right here, Cleo. I’ll keep watch.”

  Burrowing closer to his warmth, Cleo kissed his chest. “Thank you for not calling me crazy, Nik. And for keeping me safe.”

  “You’re not crazy, not at all,” he whispered. “I’ll always keep you safe. Forever, snežinka.”

  Rage flowed through Nik as he sat in the dark, holding a slumbering Cleo. Messing with him was one thing. But, Cleo—that meant war.

  “Stay away from her, Loki. Cleo is my woman,” he growled to the lightless room.

  Mocking laughter filled his head, and Nik clenched one hand into a fist. His body burned with blood lust. Nik remained awake until the sun popped up over the horizon, and Cleo stirred in his arms.

  “Morning, snežinka,” he said gently. “Feeling better?”

  Her large brown eyes found his. “Thank you, Nik. I guess I was just overly stressed and tired, so my mind decided to concoct some craziness.”

  I don’t think so, Cleo. Loki is very, very real.

  The sound of small feet running passed back and forth in front of the door. Nik kissed her head and chuckled.

  “What?” Cleo asked.

  “We’re about to have a visitor or two.”

  Her question was halted by the door opening and two small figures slipping in before scrambling up on the bed. Nik smiled at his niece and nephew.

  “Good morning, Uncle Nik,” Evie said in a loud whisper.

  “Dobroye utro, little one,” he responded. When she frowned, he explained, “I said good morning.” Nik looked at Marc, who sat there quiet. “Good morning to you, as well.”

  “I didn’t want to disturb you, but I had to keep an eye on Evie,” Marc said in an exasperated tone.

  “Well, we were awake, just talking, but you two should remember to knock.”

  “Why are you holding Miss Cleo?” Evie asked.

  “I like holding her.”

  “Can you like holding me, too?” she questioned.

  “Of course. One second.”

  Nik untangled himself from Cleo’s warm body and got out of bed. Grabbing his shirt, he slipped it on and climbed back on the bed, stretching out on top of the covers. Cleo joined him. Waving to his niece, he grinned as she crawled over and pushed her way between him and Cleo. Nik met Cleo’s eyes and winked. The warmth in her gaze filled him with love.

  “What about you, Marc?” Nik asked.

  The boy pursed his lips. “Do men like to cuddle?”

  “Oh, hel—” Cleo punched him, and he shrugged. “Yes, Marc. Some men like to. But, perhaps, you’d just like to lay here, by Cleo and your sister.”

  “Okay,” he said, crawling over.


  Nik looked at Cleo, who smiled at Marc, and his heart stuttered. All he could imagine was seeing her with their children. As she nodded at something one of the kids said, her eyes rose up to his. Her generous mouth turned up in a gentle smile, echoing the softness in her eyes.

  I love you, Cleo.

  He focused back on the three in bed as she told them a story. A rush of pride welled up within him as he realized it was a Russian folk tale. Cleo told them the story of The Fire-Bird and Princess Vassilissa. When Marcus stopped by the door and peeked in, Nik waved him in, not wanting to stop the story. Even so, a rumble of possessiveness roared up from within as his brother’s gaze skimmed over Cleo.

  He wants her. A dark voice slipped through his mind.

  No!

  Oh, yes. He longs to strip those clothes off her and bend her over the bed.

  Rage grew, and he shook.

  “Nik. Nik! What’s wrong?”

  Cleo’s voice broke through the haze covering him. He met her gaze and realized they were all alone. “Where’d he go?” he bit off.

  “Who? They all left so we could get ready. What the hell is wrong with you? The kids are spending the day with their grandparents. And I don’t have a clue where Marcus went.”

  His gaze snapped back to her. “He can’t have you.”

  Cleo released a low whistle. “Dude, what are you blabbing on about?”

  “Marcus. I’ll kill him if he touches you.” Pulling her until they were inches apart, he continued, “You belong to me.”

  Her eyes narrowed in return. “Excuse me?” Cleo smacked his hands away and jumped off the bed. “I don’t belong to you. And what is this nonsense about your brother? He is happily married with absolutely no interest in me. Shame on you. This side of you, Nikolas Andreyevich, is very unappealing. Stop acting like you own me.”

  Nik rose from the bed as she quickly changed to another pair of jeans and sweatshirt. At the door, she shot him another withering glare and left.

  She’s going to seek him out. To offer herself to him.

  “Over my dead body!” he growled. It didn’t take him long to dress in something other than his sweats, and soon, he was on his way down the stairs. Marcus was at the bottom.

  “What’s your problem, Nik?” Marcus questioned. “Cleo seemed close to tears, and she barely looked me in the eyes.”