by Roxie Rivera
The searing heat of her touch burned right through the sleeve of his suit jacket. His gaze settled on those pouty lips that had just issued a nickname only she dared to use in public. Outside his closest friends only Vivian had earned the right to speak to him with such friendliness and ease.
His fingers itched to reach out and stroke the silky waves of black hair that curled around her shoulders. He shut down the need to touch her and ignored the pulsing ache in his chest. "I'm the boss. It's not appropriate for me to dance with the employees."
"Which boss is that?" Those pretty blue eyes of hers were now framed by arched eyebrows. She had nailed him with that question. "Are you the boss of Samovar tonight? Or are you the boss of—"
"Vee," he cut her off with a stern look. "Don't."
Her face fell. "I'm sorry, Mr. Kalasnikov. I won't forget my place again."
Shit. "Vee—"
But she had already spun on her heel. He took a step toward her but squashed the urge to follow her and make it right. She was his weakness, and one he simply shouldn't indulge. Yet even as he moved onto the dance floor to give his usual speech and start the process of handing out bonuses, Nikolai understood it was impossible.
As he let his employees know how much he appreciated their hard work and the way they continually upheld the sterling reputation of restaurant, he tried not to be aware of Vivian standing just outside his line of sight. She stood between Aaron and the sous-chef Oleg who had long had a crush on her. No doubt his curtness toward her had put her in a mindset that was favorable toward either man. Would this be the night he lost her to a worthier man without a dark past and a soul stained by sin?
While he handed out bonuses to the line of employees queuing up to meet him, the catering staff he had hired for the night started to clear away the tables and tidy up the restaurant. The line grew shorter and shorter, but Vivian was nowhere to be seen. Aaron and Oleg were among the last to shake his hand. When Oleg grasped the envelope extended toward him, Nikolai held onto it. "Where is Vivian?"
The sous-chef glanced around and finally spotted her. "Over there. She's making sure everyone donated to Manuel's jar."
"Jar?" He craned his neck for a better look at her. She grasped a large jar decorated in holiday colors and wheedled donations out of everyone heading out the door.
"Should I take her home?"
Nikolai pinned Oleg with a cold stare. "No."
The incredibly skilled cook inclined his head with respect. "Okay, boss."
After Oleg moved along, he finished handing out the remaining bonuses and stopped to speak with the general manager. Certain the restaurant was in good hands, Nikolai sought out Vivian who was making the rounds of his men and persuading them to open their wallets with that sweet smile of hers. When she whirled around after getting Kostya to donate a few crisp twenties, she knocked into Nikolai's chest. He steadied her and was glad for the plastic jar wedged between their bodies.
"Oh! Sorry."
"Be careful, Vee. In those heels, you're easily knocked off balance."
"Don't I know it," she said with a laugh. "I nearly ate it three times on the dance floor tonight!"
He let his hands drop from her upper arms and took the jar from her. She had taped heart wrenching photos of Manuel, his wife Maria and the two premature twins she had delivered three weeks earlier. Last week, they had lost one of the twins—a baby girl—to complications from being so severely premature. Their son remained in the NICU of the world-class children's hospital downtown. Nikolai hoped for the best but he wasn't optimistic.
"For the expenses from the funeral and living costs," she said sadly. "I know it would help them if they could replace Maria's income so she can stay at the hospital with their baby."
Her soft heart touched him and the kind gesture toward her friend and fellow employee filled him with pride. "I've made arrangements to help them. It's not nearly enough. Money will never bring back their baby, but it's all I can do."
She smiled at him. "I knew you would do something to help."
Her unshakeable belief in his ability to be good unsettled him. Most people assumed the worst of him but not Vivian. She seemed to always see the best. "Do you want me to lock that in my office?"
"Would you mind? I planned to give it to him on the weekend when he comes in to work."
"I don't mind." He backed away from her and gave one final order. "Get your coat and wait for me. I'll take you home."
After locking the jar in the safe, Nikolai made a final round of the restaurant, gave Sergei and Danny the night off and found Kostya lingering near the rear exit with an armload of gifts. Vivian stood nearby with Igor, the elderly host who welcomed guests to the restaurant and handled all of the hospitality. These cold evenings were hard on Igor's arthritic hands so she helped button the front of his coat and curled his scarf around his neck, giving it an artful knot. The older man sweetly pecked her cheeks before bidding her farewell.
Eyeing Kostya's armload, Nikolai teasingly asked, "Secret admirers?"
Kostya shot him a look. "Not mine, boss."
Grabbing the nearest tag, he read the names there and scowled. It seemed the Secret Santa rules that the employees used to keep costs down had been scuttled for Vivian. There were at least a dozen small boxes and gift bags with her name on them, all of them given by men who worked at the restaurant. Irritated by the way other men dared to shower his Vee with gifts, Nikolai was ready to start writing out pink slips.
But she's not my Vee.
For now, she belonged to no man, but how long would that last? She already had some sort of relationship brewing with that bodyguard Kelly Connolly. He had seen them together at Dimitri and Benny's wedding. There might not be romantic feelings between them yet, but it seemed a likely outcome. One thing Nikolai knew for sure. He could never compete with a man like Kelly. The former Marine was a true war hero with a stand-up reputation.
If it wasn't Kelly who stole her away from the protective bubble he had placed around her, it would be someone else. She was starting to make forays into the art scene in Houston and rubbing shoulders with wealthy patrons from all around the world. How long before one of them noticed the same qualities he did and decided to make a move on her?
There was so much he couldn't offer Vivian that other men—better men—could. Wasn't it best for her to find a man that could make her proud? A man who lived his life totally in the light of day? Wasn't that what he had always wanted for her? To escape the hell she had known when she had been all tangled up in her father's crimes and orphaned by her sick mother?
He wanted Vivian to have a good life. That meant he had to accept that his complex feelings toward her—the love he dared not confess—would remain forever a secret. She would marry, have children and embark on a journey filled with laughter and light and love.
And he would stay in this dark underworld, running Houston's criminal element and keeping the lid on the violence that always threatened to erupt. He would die alone, without a wife, without children—and he would be forgotten.
"Are you all right?" Vivian stood in front of him now and gazed up at him with such concern. "You look so sad."
He flashed her an empty smile. "It's nothing. Let's get you home."
She looked like she wanted to press him on the issue, but thankfully she let it drop. He took the coat from her arms, shook it out and helped her into it. While she buttoned the front, he grasped the silky strands of her loose hair and gently pulled them free from the back of her coat. The tantalizing lavender fragrance of her shampoo and the light scent of her perfume sorely tried his control.
Dropping his hands to his sides, he waited for her to slip into her gloves before escorting her outside to the idling SUV where Kostya loaded her gifts into the cargo area. He helped her into a seat and moved to the front passenger side. "Do you need to make any stops tonight?"
"No."
"Well I need to make one so you'll have to bear with me." He hoped she would like the g
ift he had picked out for her.
"That's fine."
Kostya got behind the wheel and made a stealthy adjustment of the weapon he carried everywhere. As Nikolai's right hand man and the family cleaner, Kostya was always prepared for the very worst. It had been a calm year around Houston's underbelly, all things considered, but the seedy world they inhabited had a way of turning violent in a flash.
The drive to the nearby parking garage he owned was quick enough. The roads were wet but not icy as he had feared. After her old car had died last year, Vivian had chosen to use public transportation. She was too much out of practice for wintry conditions, but a little rain, he thought she could handle.
Round and round, they climbed the levels of the garage until they reached the last covered floor. Only half the spaces were filled and the far wall was entirely open except for the brand new sporty luxury coupe topped with a bright red bow. In the backseat, Vivian had her head down as she messed around with her phone and seemed totally oblivious to the surprise that awaited her as Kostya pulled into a space.
Glancing at Kostya, Nikolai climbed out of the vehicle. He walked around the back of the SUV and opened her door. Vivian looked perplexed. "Kolya?"
"I want to show you something."
She frowned. "In a parking lot?"
With the SUV facing away from the car, she couldn't see it. Amused by her reaction, he held out his hand. "Humor me, Vee."
"All right." She placed her gloved hand on his, the leather cool against his skin, and slipped out of the backseat to join him.
"Grab your purse." She would need her wallet while she drove. Shooting him an odd look, she did as instructed. He walked her toward the back of the SUV and knew the moment she spotted the new car.
A gasp escaped her lips. "Nikolai!"
Grinning, he dug the keys out of his pocket and turned to hand them over to her. "S Rozhdestvom. Merry Christmas, Vee."
Her pink lips remained parted with shock. She blinked a few times and glanced from the keyless fob resting on his outstretched hand to the vehicle adorned with a bow and then his face. "But—we never exchange gifts until January."
They had always waited for the traditional Orthodox Christmas date to trade gifts, but this year he had decided to give her the car a few days early. "I wanted you to have it now."
"A car?" She looked troubled and bit her lower lip with indecision. "Did you get this from Alexei Sarnov?"
"Yes. He helped me pick it out."
She wrung her hands. "But it's so expensive."
"It's a gift, Vivian. The price doesn’t matter." He placed the key onto her hand and curled her gloved fingers around it. "You're worth it to me."
Her gaze skipped to his face. Eyes wide, she stared up at him with an expression he couldn’t place. For a moment, he thought that maybe, just maybe, she felt the same stirrings of love and desire that he experienced every time she was near, but he shoved aside those fanciful thoughts. She saw him as her protector and nothing more. That was the way it had to be.
"I swore that I would look out for you. Before they died, I promised your grandparents that you would be taken care of and get a good start in the world. This is my way of holding up that promise."
A fleeting glint of sadness darkened her eyes. He silently cursed himself for bringing up the only family who had ever shown her kindness or love. The holidays were hard enough for her without being forced to think of the two people she had lost too soon.
"So that's it?" she asked carefully. "This is just your way of keeping a promise?"
Now it was his turn to frown at her. "Of course. What else could it possibly be?"
Had she figured out that his feelings toward her weren't completely platonic? Did it frighten her to think of him that way? Was she worried he would try to force her to become his woman?
"I see."
He couldn't read her voice or her face. Something had just happened between them and damned if he knew what it meant or what he had gotten wrong. Somewhere along the way, their wires had crossed, and now he was the one on the receiving end of a painful jolt.
"Come on." He motioned toward the car. "You can drive me to your apartment. Kostya will follow us."
She hesitated before trailing him to the car. Her gloved hand glided over the sleek lines of the luxury coupe and patted the showy bow. Studying the key fob, she found the unlock button and pressed it. Nikolai took care of the bow and stowed it in the backseat before sliding into the passenger seat next to her. She figured out how to use the push button start and then stared at the touchscreen that operated the radio, navigational program and more.
"I don't know how to use this."
He wasn't surprised. Her last vehicle had been thirteen or fourteen years old. The CD player had been the most technologically advanced item in it. "Here. I'll show you."
Because he had a similar vehicle in his collection, Nikolai was familiar with the interface. He showed her how easy it was to work the climate control and laughed at the scandalized look that crossed her face when he activated her seat warmer. When she handed over her MP3 player, he synced it up with the stereo so she could listen to her music while she drove.
"If I catch you texting or talking while you drive, I will be extremely disappointed, Vee." He held her gaze a moment before establishing the Bluetooth connection between her phone and the car. "Promise me that you will be safe."
"I promise I'll be safe if I drive."
"If?" He seized on the word as he dropped her phone into a cup holder. "What do you mean if?"
She traced the stitching along the curve of the steering wheel. "I don't think I can accept this car, Nikolai. It's…too much." She fingered the diamond bracelet he had given her last year. "This was borderline, but I accepted it because I saw happy it made you to give it to me. This car?" She ran her hand along the dash. "It's just way, way overboard for a gift between friends."
Between friends. The words shouldn't have gutted him but they did.
"I want you to have it, Vee." He slashed his hand through the air. "This isn't up for discussion. You're keeping it."
She stared at him for an unnervingly long moment. "I'm not a member of your crew, Nikolai. You don't get to use that tone with me."
Remembering the way he had hurt her feelings back at the party, he sought to make things right. "I shouldn't have been so short with you when you needled me about which boss I was tonight. That was wrong of me, and I'm sorry if it hurt you."
"You did, but I know I crossed a line. Sometimes I forget that our friendship has rules." She shrugged, as if nervous, and admitted, "I don't always know what we are or what we're doing."
He didn't either. The last few weeks, especially, he seemed to be skating dangerously close to that line with her. "We're friends. I'm your protector. I'm the man you come to when you have a problem that needs solving."
"Is that all you are to me?" She asked the question as if she didn't know the answer.
God, how he wanted to be more. He wanted to be everything to her. "It's all I can be, Vivian."
She studied his face and then exhaled slowly. "Okay."
"You'll keep the car?"
She picked up her MP3 player and chose a Christmas playlist. "No."
"Vee—"
"This car costs, like, five times what I earn in a year between working at the restaurant and selling some of my paintings. It is way, way beyond my means to keep it insured and do the required maintenance. It's beautiful, Nikolai, but it's not the car for me."
Recognizing that stubborn streak, he decided to table the discussion for tonight. He had absolutely zero intention of letting her give the car back. If she refused to keep the keys, he would leave it parked in front of her apartment building until she changed her mind. Two could play this game—and he would win.
"The car has a service package. You just take it to Alexei Sarnov's dealership, and they'll handle everything. I've already arranged your insurance policy." She narrowed her eyes at him, and he
held up his hands. "All right. I'll stop."
Despite her protestations about keeping the vehicle, it was clear that she loved driving it as she carefully navigated the wet streets and the surprisingly empty interstate. When they reached her apartment complex, she parked carefully and seemed almost reluctant to shut down the engine. He wanted to ask her if she had changed her mind but let the question die on his tongue.
"Come inside with me. I'll give you your gift since we're breaking tradition this year."
"All right." Kostya had pulled into a nearby space so he slid out of the front seat, ambled over to the SUV and retrieved all the gifts Vivian's admirers had given her at the Christmas party. Annoyed with her reaction to the car, he wondered if she had turned down any of these men's gifts. Not that it was the same situation, of course. Aaron, Oleg and the others who had given her pretty things to make her smile all offered her something he never could. They were openly attempting to court Vivian while he was…
Well. What was he doing exactly? One moment, he wanted to drag her close and forever bind her to his side. The next, he pushed her away to keep her safe lest any of his enemies realize how desperately he loved her. He could only imagine how confused she was by the way he ran hot and cold with her. Hell, he was fucking confused himself!
Inside the apartment she shared with Lena, he noticed the stack of flattened moving boxes in one corner of the living room. He placed her pile of gifts on the couch and motioned toward the boxes. "So she's decided to move in with Yuri?"
"I don't think there was ever much of a decision there." Vivian peeled out of her coat, tucked the gloves into the pockets and hung it on the coat tree near the door. "You know how Yuri is when he decides he wants something. He's utterly possessive of her and hopelessly in love with her. She's head over heels for him too. I'm sure it didn’t take much to convince her to move into his mansion."
"I've never seen him happier. He'll be good to her and treat her right. She will never want for anything."
"It's not the money that she wants. It's Yuri. She loves him. Like—for real," Vivian said definitively. "If they aren't married by next Christmas, I'll be shocked."
