Her mouth watered. She was hungry.
“How about steak and eggs, since it is breakfast?” he asked.
She just nodded, suddenly feeling tired. The gravity of what she’d seen began to weigh on her. Someone had died. She wasn’t one to get involved, but this wasn’t petty crime. This was a life snuffed out.
Viktor moved about the kitchen as if he cooked all of the time. He loosened his tied and rolled up his sleeves, revealing sculpted arms. Wow. She hadn’t expected that.
“How do you like your steak?”
She didn’t eat steak often so she didn’t really know. “Uh, I guess rare.”
“You guess?”
“I’m a bartender. Steak isn’t in my budget.”
“Then that bar isn’t paying you enough.”
“I get paid what most bartenders get paid. Plus tips.”
“I would think someone like you with those green eyes and that clean skin would get many tips.”
She wanted to blush. Her face grew hot. “I do okay.”
“Still, you need to find a place that pays better.”
“I don’t have a car so I’m limited by public transportation.”
“Then you save for a car.”
“It isn’t that easy.”
He had no idea of her life. How could he just say she had to save?
“I came here with three dollars in my pocket. Look at me now.”
“You own a nightclub. You are the American Dream aren’t you?”
“You Americans don’t realize the opportunities you have here,” he said as he put the steaks on the grill. They flared up and he turned on an overhead fan. She blinked.
“You know nothing about me.”
“No, I don’t, but I know what this country has to offer,” he said.
“I don’t need a lecture,” she said.
She’d heard it all before. Sounded good when you worked in Manhattan, but when you went back to your hovel in the Bronx, it didn’t seem so easy anymore.
“You’re right. You’ve had a tough night. Are you going to talk to the cops?”
She frowned. “I’m not one to get involved, but I think I need to.”
“Good. I can go with you later in the morning if you want?”
None of this made sense. She wanted to know what he wanted from her. There had to be a catch. “Why? Why are you doing all this?”
“Because you are under my care,” he said.
His gaze held hers, but she still didn’t understand. No one took care of her. She took care of everyone else. “Still. Why? I’m some stranger.”
“You are a woman in trouble. I am Russian and we don’t let woman fend for themselves. It is just how I am. I can’t help it.”
That was his accent. Russian. Made sense with the name Viktor and the high forehead that a lock of hair fell over when he spoke. “I would imagine you get taken advantage of in a city like New York,” she said.
He put a plate in front of her with a steak and two fried eggs. Her mouth watered. Her stomach rumbled again. She didn’t know which to eat first. Everything looked good.
Viktor sat down in the chair next to her, then shrugged. “Sometimes, but I have to be true to my nature.”
***
Viktor studied the beautiful woman next to him. With her mocha skin and those bewitching green eyes. She clearly didn’t understand his hospitality, but he wouldn’t feel bad. This was how his mother had raised him.
She put her first bite in her mouth while he waited for her reaction. The steaks had been an impulse buy and now he was glad he had bought two of them. He’d never know exactly why he did. He mostly ate alone or went to his mother’s house. Sacha lived there still. If you asked his brother, he would say his mother lived with him, but the lease was in his mother’s name. Viktor suspected that she paid most of the rent.
It bothered Viktor, especially since he paid his brother a handsome salary, but their mother could not be dissuaded. She would take care of her sons even though she’d raised them to take care of her.
Sacha was the baby and his mother had always babied him. Maybe Victor had also. They’d moved here when Sacha was young and his mother felt guilty about uprooting him. She shouldn’t have. He was more Russian than Victor.
Alia moaned, her eyes falling closed, and Viktor had visions of her during an orgasm. His dick woke up at that thought, but there would be no sex tonight. This girl was in his care. Young and vulnerable. He wouldn’t’ take advantage.
His mother did not raise him that way.
“You like?”
He waited to take a bite until she opened her eyes. “This is the best steak I’ve ever eaten. It might be the best meal I’ve ever eaten.”
He looked down at his plate. “It’s just steak and eggs.”
“Nothing about this meal could be ‘just’ anything, Viktor.”
That was the first time she’d said his name. He liked how it sounded in her mouth. He wondered what else he would like in her mouth. He shook away that thought. Very ungentlemanly.
Viktor took a bite and had to say he did enjoy his own cooking. His mother had taught him well.
“Who taught you to cook?”
“My mother. She said that American women would want a man who cooked.”
“I would love for someone to cook for me. I hate it,” she said. Then she laughed. “Maybe why I’m still single.”
Her laugh was a symphony to his ears. Husky and full. No pretense behind it. He took another bite of his steak, dipping it in his egg. She ate with more gusto now, but stopping to savor each bite of steak.
The kettle on the stove whistled. He poured the hot water into his French Press and waited. When it was ready, he pushed down the plunger on it.
“Coffee?”
“Yes, please.”
Viktor had the distinct impression that the food had loosened Alia up. Her shoulders were no longer stiff. Her smile came more easily. He had done his job. She felt safe here.
His mother would be proud.
He poured her some of the dark brew then some for himself. She sipped it and he waited to see if she liked it. For some reason, her opinion was now important to him. He didn’t know why.
“That’s the best coffee I’ve ever tasted. What’s that contraption you made it in?”
“A French Press.”
Her eyes drooped and she yawned. “Neat.”
She was getting tired and as much as he delighted in her company, she had to sleep.
He had to sleep. He had payroll to do for the nightclub. Never his favorite day. He really should hire someone, but he had trouble letting go of the reins. Not a good trait.
“Are you finished?”
Alia nodded. “I couldn’t eat another bite.”
He put both of their plates in the dishwasher. His housekeeper would be by in a few hours. She could do the rest.
“Don’t you want to clean up your kitchen?” she said, then yawned again.
“I have someone to do that.”
“A nightclub nets you that much money?” She put a hand on mouth. “I’m sorry. That was crass.”
Viktor laughed at her. “I’m not insulted. I own nightclubs all over the world.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Oh.”
“Let me show you to your room.”
She nodded and followed him down a hall. His apartment had four bedrooms. He used one as an office. One was if his mother wanted to stay. He gave Alia the fourth one. His mother had decorated it for him.
“There’s a bathroom off this bedroom so feel free to take a bath or shower. There are sweats in the closet, I think.”
“Old girlfriend?”
He hadn’t had a woman in months. The last one had been a gold digger. He wasn’t interested in doing that again. “No, my mother put stuff there hoping I’d have women over. She wants grandchildren.”
“You’re close with your mother.”
“Yes. There are towels in the bathroom. When you awaken, feel fre
e to wander the apartment. I’ll probably be awake. I don’t need much sleep.”
She nodded. He was about to leave when she said his name.
“Yes?”
“I haven’t thanked you. I really appreciate all that you’ve done for me. I’m a stranger and you’ve been more hospitable than some people I know.”
“You’re welcome, Alia. Sleep tight.”
He left her in the bedroom, but he didn’t want to. If he could have convinced her to get into his bed, they’d both enjoy themselves before slumber. But he couldn’t. She was vulnerable and if he was to pursue something with her he’d want her to respond because of desire, not because she didn’t think she had a choice.
He showered then slid into his bed. Naked and alone. He frowned and hoped sleep would come quickly. He didn’t want to think about Alia in his guest bedroom. Maybe showering. Maybe bathing. Naked and soapy.
Shit. This wasn’t helping. Payroll might get done sooner if sleep remained elusive.
*
Alia awoke to someone pounding on a door. Not her bedroom door. Wait. Where was she?
The door being pounded on was far away. One of her neighbors? Her place was just one room. When she opened her eyes she had a moment of panic. She didn’t remember where she was. Then all her memories of last night came back to her.
She’d slept so soundly for being in a strange place. She yawned, then stretched. The pounding had stopped.
Someone knocked softly on her door. “Alia? You awake?”
Viktor.
“I am.”
“The police need to talk to you about what you saw last night,” he said.
Her eyes widened. How did they know where to find her? Had Viktor given her up?
“Uh, okay.” She rose from bed. “I need to get dressed.”
“I’ll tell them that you’ll be out in a minute.”
“Thanks.”
She threw on her clothes from last night then took a deep breath before opening the bedroom door. She hadn’t slept that well in ages, but that didn’t make her any more ready to face the police. Not having decided to talk to them, she wasn’t sure what to say now.
Not knowing a way out, she must face them.
Viktor was pouring coffee for them. He was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. Even in that, he looked put together. Some men were just that way. Every hair was in place. He appealed to her. Maybe because he was exotic compared to what she saw in the ghetto day after day.
He was also more real than the metrosexual white boys who hit on her at the bar. He didn’t flaunt his wealth, but she could tell from the cut of his clothing that he had money. She bet he didn’t tip outrageously, just well.
The two men occupied the couch, but didn’t look as if they’d made themselves comfortable. The sat on the edge of the cushions as Viktor chatted with them. He looked like he was hosting two friends.
Alia cleared her throat before she entered the room. “Gentlemen.”
Both men stood.
“Alia, these men are asking questions about something that happened in the neighborhood last night. I didn’t see anything. They wanted to know if you did.”
He was giving her an out. He hadn’t revealed to the cops that she’d seen the murder. She tried to thank him with her eyes. Now was the time to make her decision. If she didn’t come clean, she’d have to keep the secret forever.
If she did tell them what she saw, maybe they could catch the men. She wasn’t optimistic on that point. She’d seen what little cops did in her neighborhood. Maybe that was different in Manhattan.
“What incident are you talking about?” she said, not ready to spill her guts.
“I’m Detective Clark. This is Detective Lewis,” the younger man said.
He didn’t offer his hand. Alia didn’t offer hers. She nodded to acknowledge both of them.
“Nice to meet you.”
“There was a man shot in an alley around the corner from here. We estimate about three in the morning.”
Alia sat on the closest chair, stilling deciding. What was in her best interest? If she snitched, would she be safer? If she told, could they protect her? She bit her lip, unable to choose the best option. Not knowing what was the best option for her.
“Three?”
“Yes. Would you have been out and about at that time?”
Viktor looked at her and nodded. He wanted her to tell them the truth. Of course, he would. He probably hadn’t run into any bad cops. Like the ones that harassed her brother on a regular basis.
Viktor probably trusted the police. She sighed.
“I was.”
Viktor smiled at her. She was doing the right thing in his mind. He had no idea how dangerous the streets were. He lived behind steel doors on the third floor of a building he probably owned.
That was not her life.
“Did you see something?” Lewis said.
She glanced from one detective to the other. “Yes. I saw a man shot last night.”
“Why didn’t you call the police?” Lewis asked.
“Because I live in the Bronx. You look the other way so you can live another day. Besides, the men who did this saw me. They chased me. And I found refuge in Viktor’s night club.”
“So you got a look at the men?”
She swallowed. Why had she opened her mouth? “I got a look, but not a good look. I didn’t study them.”
“Can you start from the beginning? Don’t leave out any detail.”
Alia let out a breath then began her story. She told them as much as she could remember. When she finished, Clark kept scribbling. Then he looked at her with brown eyes. “We’ll need you to come downtown with us.”
“Why? I’ve told you everything.”
“We need a formal statement. We also want you to look at some mug shots.”
“Do you know who did this?”
“We have an idea,” Lewis said. “We can show you some pictures. You don’t need to peruse a pile of books.”
She blinked. She had no choice now. She was involved. All because she looked down an alley. Damn it.
“Alia just woke up. Can she get some breakfast and then I’ll bring her to the station? Just give me the address,” Viktor said.
Once again, he was protecting her. Why? She still wasn’t going to sleep with him. As attractive as she found him, sleeping with him would probably be a bad idea.
The two detectives exchanged a glance. “That’s fine. She isn’t a suspect. Can you come down within the hour?”
“Yes,” Viktor answered for her.
She shot him a look that said she could talk for herself. He shrugged as if it was no consequence. Just what she needed. An overbearing man. Though she was grateful, he’d bought her some time.
The detectives left.
Viktor went into the kitchen. “Go shower and I’ll make you something.”
She watched him for a moment. “Why are you being so nice?”
She didn’t trust nice. He had to have an angle, though for the life of her she couldn’t figure it out. What was his agenda? If not to get her in bed, then what?
“Don’t be so suspicious, Alia.”
“I need to charge my phone,” she said.
“Plug it in anywhere.”
She also had to call Jess, who must be worried by now. She’d bet there were a dozen messages on her phone from her friend. That call back would have to wait.
***
As skittish as a colt, Viktor thought. That girl had seen some trouble in her life. He’d come from nothing. Had seen atrocities in Russia. He’d refused to let it get him down. He’d always had his family.
Maybe that was Alia’s problem. She hadn’t spoken of any family and there’s been no one to worry about her last night. She hadn’t called anyone as far as he knew.
No mother home wondering where she was? No boyfriend thinking she should be at her house by now? Viktor would have to probe further.
Meanwhile he called Sacha.
&n
bsp; “Hello,” his brother said in a sleepy voice. It was almost noon and the boy was still in bed.
“Get up, Sacha,” Viktor said. “I need you somewhere within the hour.”
“Did you get in some kind of trouble?”
“No, Alia, the girl from last night, has to go give a statement to the police. I want you there as her lawyer.”
“Alia? Is she still in your apartment?”
“Yes, but it isn’t what you think.”
“You old dog, you.”
As if Viktor was an old man. He was barely thirty-five. “Sacha, stop. What was I supposed to do? Put her out on the street when those men were there?”
“At least tell me you slept with her.”
“No, Sacha I did not. I was a gentleman.”
He gave his brother the address and he agreed to meet him there. Alia came out of the bedroom, showered, but with her clothes from that morning. “I’ll drop you home after the interview.”
“No need. I can get there on my own.”
“Please, let me do this. I’ll feel better knowing you are home safe.”
A myriad of emotions crossed her face. He guessed that she wasn’t used to relying on anyone but herself. For the time being, she was stuck with him. There was something about her that drew him to her. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but he found her attractive. It was beyond that.
Maybe he was drawn to the little vulnerability he’d seen in her. Or drawn to her strength. He mused over it as they waited for his car to arrive.
“Does someone else always drive you?” Alia said, eyeing the black car that pulled up outside the nightclub.
“I prefer not to drive in Manhattan,” he said.
She nodded as she climbed into the vehicle. The trip only took about twenty minutes and then they were walking up the steps to the precinct. Alia paused before the door. Viktor opened it for her.
“I can open the door.”
“Has no man ever held the door for you?”
“No.”
“Then you date the wrong men, Alia. A man doesn’t hold a door for you because you can’t. He holds a door for you because he wants to.”
She shrugged, but entered the building. A cacophony of sound hit them when they approached the desk. Her reaction to his holding a door made Viktor wonder what this girl had been through. She was tough. She’d seen a murder and been chased by a murderer. She was a strong woman for sure.
Her Russian Billionaires - The Complete Billionaire Romance Collection Page 2
