by Bella King
I look in the mirror, studying my own face for signs of abnormality. I look like an emotional wreck. My eyes are bloodshot, and my cheeks are flushed as though I spent the entire day jogging around on the beach. I’d take that over the blistering cold climate here, but I don’t have a choice in the matter.
I turn on the water, putting it to as cold as I can get it before splashing it on my face. I’m terrible at hiding my emotions because my face shows everything. I’ll blush for any number of reasons, so a strict poker face is never going to happen. The best I can do is return my face to the typical paleness that makes it so striking against my black hair.
After a few moments, I dry my face off with the gray hand towel beside the mirror and take a deep breath. I can’t dwindle in the bathroom for too long, or Nikolai will suspect something. Either that or he’ll think I’m constipated, neither of which I want.
I take a final look at my face in the mirror before I leave, giving myself a smile as though to say, “It’s all going to be okay.” I’m not sure that I believe that, though.
Alright, let’s see what Nikolai has in store for me tonight. This better be good enough to take my mind off my newfound pregnancy, although that would be an astronomically difficult thing to do. Who knows, Nikolai might surprise me.
Chapter Eighteen
Nikolai
I’m lucky to be alive, but almost getting my face blown off won’t stop me from taking Elaine out for a date. If my days are numbered, which they very well might be, then I want to enjoy the free time that I have. What better way to do that than to pursue a fling with the most beautiful woman that I’ve ever known?
She has no idea what happened to me before I came back home. Nobody does, actually. I didn’t say a word to Alek when I got back into the car to drive me back to the headquarters. I knew that I smelled like smoke and looked like I have taken a tumble, but he knew better than to ask me questions when he saw my face.
I’ve taken a moment to clean myself up, and I’m ready to enjoy my night, no matter what. Another near-death experience isn’t going to put a kink in my plans. I’ve grown used to have them by now. I’m pretty sure I’m emotionally dead to the idea of dying. It’s funny how that works.
I wait in the hallway for Elaine to finish getting ready. I would have assumed she would be ready by now, but maybe I’m early. Even with all that happened, I managed to make it back to the headquarters in good time.
It’s going to be hard to stay focused on the night ahead of me. I wasn’t expecting an attempt on my life with the fake canisters of Phenolide-11. Anastasia has an awfully sick sense of humor to place bombs in her secret weapon and try to blow me to pieces. I’m certain they would have gone off when I pulled the pin on one of those canisters.
I’m still trying to figure out why she would sell me bombs. Clearly, she’s been compromised. The stuff that she sold to the Fedorov bratva was real. I read the reports on what happened at the airport, and that’s what she had described to me when she sold me the stuff. It’s a deadly chemical weapon similar to mustard gas, but far worse in its effects.
It’s possible that Anastasia has taken sides with the Fedorov, but why? She’s been neutral for so long that I didn’t expect to have any issues with her. Of course, there is no loyalty or honestly left in the bratva anymore. That ship sailed when the Fedorov rose to power.
I drum my fingers against the white plaster wall in the hallway as I heard the bathroom door open. I try to push the edges of my lips up in a smile, but it’s difficult. Part of me feels dead inside, and I’m afraid that it will be permanent. Maybe I’ve lost my soul, and I don’t even know it.
“Sorry for the wait,” Elaine says, twirling around in the tiny green dress I gave her when she first moved into the headquarters.
A quick flash of black lace is enough to take my mind from the troubles I’ve had on the outside. What’s standing in front of me is much more interesting than the bratva war, and she looks spectacular. I would love to scoop my hand beneath her dress while I kiss her plump pink lips.
There’s awkward energy keeping me from becoming physical with her just yet. I have all night to make a move, but the distance has clearly made a difference since the last time we spent time together. I feel like this is the first date all over again, except it’s one we never had. The last time was a hookup. This is for real.
Is that why my palms are sweaty, or is it the adrenaline from almost getting the eyes blown into the back of my skull? I wipe them on the sides of my slacks, smiling at Elaine and giving her a gentle nod. “You look beautiful.”
“You think so?” She asks, already blushing.
God, I love that about her. Those pale cheeks turn pink at the slightest hint of arousal. She’s an open book and one that I wish to read tonight. I glance down at her bare thighs. “You’re going to want to put on a long coat. We’re heading out for dinner.”
“Oh, fantastic,” she says, her emerald eyes lighting up. “I’m starving.”
I chuckle. “Come then. Let’s get going.” I hold out my hand for her to take, hoping that she will. I want to break the newly formed ice and get back to the sweet warmth that I miss from her as soon as possible.
“Is this dress going to be too short for dinner?” Elaine asks as she slides her soft hand into mine.
I shake my head. “We’ll dine alone at a special restaurant. We have the entire roof to ourselves.”
“The roof?” she asks, recoiling her head in surprise as we start to walk down the hallway.
Shit. I didn’t mean to spoil the surprise. “It’s a special rooftop. You’ll be warm,” I assure her.
“I better be,” she says, squeezing my hand. “And if I’m not, will you keep me warm?”
I smile, squeezing her hand back. “I certainly will.”
I’m surprised by how chipper and friendly Elaine is being. Slav told me that she had an attitude when he tried to get her to get ready, but maybe that’s just toward him. To me, she’s been as warm and sweet as an apple pie. I imagine that’s what Americans enjoy eating, and that’s what she reminds me of, even though I’ve never had it.
“You smell like smoke,” Elaine says as we approach the lobby.
“I ran into some trouble on the way here,” I reply.
“Trouble?” she asks, looking up at me with large eyes. “Slav said that you’ve been in a lot of trouble lately.”
“I try to stay out of it,” I say, mentally cursing Slav for telling Elaine anything about what I’ve been up to. He’s supposed to keep his lips sealed.
“That’s not what Slav said,” she continues. “He said that you had at least four brushes with death this week. Is that true?”
I’m starting to think that Elaine thinks she’s my wife now or something. Any fears that she’s grown distant have evaporated. All it sounds like is that she’s annoyed that I’ve been in dangerous situations as though that weren’t my whole job as a mafia boss. It’s charming, in a way, but also unnecessary.
“Things are rough, but we’re close to a breakthrough,” I say, trying to reassure her without giving any specific details. My newest plan is still in it’s starting phases, and I don’t want to pull the trigger on it until I have anything in order.
We come to a stop in the lobby, allowing Elaine to grab her coat and pull it over her pale arms. It’s almost as big as she is, and she looks cute wearing it. I forget how short she is sometimes, but then again, I’m well over six feet. Everyone looks short to me.
“Is this breakthrough going to get me back to the United States?” she asks, twirling around to face me once she has her coat on. Her hair bobs on her shoulders with a zealous spring.
“I think they might open things up soon, so I’d bet on you going back before then,” I say.
She frowns, even though I assumed that was the answer that she wanted to hear. She was complaining about being stuck here so much, but for some reason, she’s upset with what I just said. That’s strange.
“Som
ething wrong?” I ask.
“No,” she says, her voice indicating that there is, indeed, something wrong. She looks down at her feet.
“Aren’t you happy to go home?” I ask, leaning down to get a glimpse of her face.
She tilts her head back up and looks me in the eyes. “What if I want to stay longer. I’m not sure it’s safe to go back yet, you know.”
I’m confused, but not in a bad way. If she wants to stay longer, she’s more than welcome to. I just assumed she would want to get her cute ass out of here the second they were letting planes cross the borders again.
I look into her eyes, getting lost in them for a moment before coming back to reality. “You can stay for as long as you like, but it’s still going to be dangerous here. I mean, you can’t leave the house much.”
“If you’re with me, then it’s okay,” she replies.
“But I won’t be with you most of the time,” I remind her.
Elaine rolls her eyes. “You could have lied and told me that you were. It would be more romantic that way.”
I laugh, amused by her attitude. “Oh, so you want me to be romantic? I can do that,” I say, taking her hand and pulling her toward me.
Her body presses into mine willingly, transferring heat through her coat to my skin. I like the way she feels close to me, even when we aren’t naked.
Yes, Elaine can stay as long as she wants with me. I can’t say no to a face and body like that.
“Kiss me,” she says, staring into my eyes with a serious frown.
“Is that an order?” I ask, taken aback by her firmness. She wasn’t like this before. Something has changed since I’ve been running around fighting with the bratva. She’s not the woman who I brought home with me before.
Elaine doesn’t wait for me to make the move. She places her hand on my cheek and brings my head down to hers, meeting my lips with the warmth of a summer beach and the thirst of a desert gypsy. She pulls my soul back into my body, giving me the empathy and softness that has been sucked out of me by the violence I’ve endured and the horrors that I’ve seen.
I place my hand on her waist, feeling over it until I reach her ass. I press her body into mine, reminding her of the first time we met and made love. I’ll never let her forget that day, and I intend to remind her every chance that I get.
I want to stay like this forever. Screw going out to dinner. Elaine is far more interesting than dinner ever could be. I’d starve just to stay with her.
Just as I think it, she pulls away, leaving me wanting more of her perfect lips. “I’m hungry,” she says.
“For what?” I ask.
She laughs. “Food, Nikolai.”
Chapter Nineteen
Elaine
I feel stupid for being so attached to Nikolai, but now that I know I’m pregnant with his baby, the urge to keep him in my life is growing like a tumor in my head, feeing my brain with crazy thoughts of us spending the rest of our lives together. I honestly feel like I’m losing my mind.
I’m doing my best to act like there’s nothing wrong, but maybe I’m laying it on too thick. Nikolai seems to know there’s something up, but I want him to believe I’m just happy to see him. I mean, that’s not a lie, but it’s not the whole truth either.
The kiss was nice, and I can rest assured that the passion is still alive between us. Now, my focus is on food, because eating small snacks all day isn’t a good way to live, and I’ve been doing it a lot. At least now, I know why.
I keep my hand away from my belly at all costs. I have to remind myself constantly not to rub my stomach. I could always say it’s because I’m hungry, but I don’t want to make a habit out of it either. My body wants me to act like I’m pregnant even though I’ve only been that way for a few weeks, and if I let my subconscious take over, then Nikolai is going to know in an instant what’s going on.
I can’t hide something like this forever, but for now, it’s a secret. Tonight, I’m going to dig for clues as to how he would react if I were pregnant, but I have to do it covertly. He mustn’t suspect that he managed to get me pregnant already.
The car ride to the restaurant is short, and Nikolai can’t hide his nervousness. It seems that we both have more pressing matters weighing on our minds than one another, but this date can be an escape. I’ll do my best to get the information I want out of him and forget about it for a while.
“It’s almost spring,” Nikolai says as the car pulls up to a tall brick building in a busier part of the city. “Believe it or not, you’ll start to see flowers on some of these trees pretty soon.”
“Won’t they freeze?” I ask, looking out the window at the naked trees. Their branches are thin and brittle, like the long legs of a spider stuck outside in the cold.
“Some of them will, but you’d be surprised how quickly the warmth moves in after winter. It’s not all doom and gloom here,” he explains.
“That’s how life is,” I note, spotting the similarities between the changing seasons and the new life I’m about to enter.
A smile curls the edges of Nikolai’s lips. “One can hope.”
“Things will get better,” I tell him, patting the warm gray wool of his trousers on his upper thigh.
Nikolai reaches for the door handle. “Starting tonight,” he says and pushes the door open.
Cold air rushes into the cabin, but it’s not nearly as bad as it was over a month ago when I first came to Russia. There is a light dusting of snow on the sidewalk, but it dissolves into puddles under my boots as I step out of the car.
I look up at the tall brick building as Nikolai strides confidently toward it. “Is this the place?”
“Yes,” he replies, waving his hand. “It’s nicer upstairs.”
I shrug and follow him in, eager to get out of the cold. I’m fine with going inside with him, but I don’t especially want to freeze to death if this thing is on the rooftop like he mentioned. I’m sure that was supposed to be a surprise, but I’m not as resilient to the cold as he is.
The smell of fresh, hot food hits me, causing me to forget just about everything that I’ve had in my head of the past few hours. My stomach growls, and I hurry close to Nikolai as he walks up to the host under the warm glow of old-fashioned bulbs hanging from the ceiling.
“Volkov,” Nikolai says in a deep and commanding tone.
The host nods, motioning with his hand to follow him. He walks quickly toward the back of the restaurant, but I’m hardly paying attention to him or Nikolai. My eyes are scanning the delicious entrees displayed across tables in a haphazard manner.
There seems to be more food for each person than they could possibly ever eat in one sitting. Plates piled high with steaming rice, meats, and intricately cut vegetable delight my senses. I hope it doesn’t take long for the food to come to our table.
“Please go up the elevator, and a waiter will be with you shortly,” the host says, pressing a thin finger into the elevator button and stepping back.
“Thank you,” Nikolai says politely, pulling me away from the tempting food and into the carpeted elevator.
“Are we really going to the roof?” I ask as the doors slide shut.
“You’ll be fine, Elaine. They set things up differently here,” he replies coolly.
Sure enough, when the doors roll open, I’m not met by a just of frigid air. In fact, it’s even warmer than it was on the ground floor of the restaurant. I’m tempted to throw off my coat and skip across the rooftop, feeling the oddly summer-like heat on my bare skin.
We step out onto a rooftop with gas heaters surrounding the ledges, making a protective paradise of warmth in the center. Twinkling strings of lights cascade across the rooftop, illuminating a single table in the center. It’s a spectacular sight.
“Impressed?” Nikolai asks as I look around.
I don’t want to move toward the table until I’ve taken in the whole scene. “Yeah,” I breathe.
He chuckles. “Let’s take a seat. I’d like to see what
on the drink menu before the waiter gets here.”
I wave at him to go ahead to the table without me. I must look across the rooftop for just a little while longer to absorb the beauty of it.
I can’t say that Nikolai isn’t a romantic. He may be rough, tough, and full of bratva energy, but there’s certainly an artistic side to the man. I’ve never had someone take me to such a charming location. I shrug my heavy coat off my shoulders and come toward the table Nikolai pulls out a chair for me.
“This is wonderful,” I say, laying my coat across the back of my chair and sitting down.
“Just for you,” he replies, sliding into his seat across from me and picking up a menu. “I think we can start with some wine. What kind do you like?”
“I would have thought you’d remember,” I say playfully.
“Pinot Grigio,” Nikolai says, slapping the wood-encased menu onto the table and shooting me a shrewd smirk.
I bite my lip to try to hold back a smile, but it doesn’t work. I’m smitten by him all over again, and we’ve barely even started the evening together. I’m sure he’s got more tricks up his sleeve. His eyes are looking straight through me, and his face is filled with lighthearted mischief.
The gentle ding of the elevator pulls me away from Nikolai’s lovely gaze. A waiter glides to the table with his hand clasps high above his stomach. “How can I serve you this evening?” he asks, looking first at me, then at Nikolai.
“Two glasses of Pinot Grigio, please,” Nikolai says.
“Very well. Anything else to start you off?” the waiter asks.
Nikolai almost says no, but then he sees me almost bouncing out of my seat, eager for some kind of appetizer to satiate my hunger until the main course arrives. “And whatever appetizer the chef recommends,” he adds, giving me a wink.
“Perfect,” the waiter replies, and spins around, gliding back to the elevator.
“They’re pretty quick with the food here,” Nikolai says once the waiter disappears from view. “You don’t have to worry.”
