Three under the Mistletoe: A Christmas Menage Romance (Christmas Billionaire Menage Series Book 1)

by Tia Siren

  He was not at all like his compatriot, Dima. He was short, overweight, and bald. The tattoo he had on his neck did nothing to enhance his appearance. They had been friends in Moscow and had come to America together to further their business interests. In the case of Sergey, that meant extortion, drug dealing, and contract killing. Since Dima had arrived in the US, he'd quickly realized that it was possible to make money legally. He was increasingly involved in real estate. He'd made a fortune in Russia by buying cheap stocks in major companies and selling them again. Luckily for him, he'd managed to get his cash to the US before the Rubel had crashed.

  “I asked her to show me the room, but she made it sound so bland that it would have been too obvious for me to insist on seeing it. Who asks to see an empty room for the sake of it?”

  “But we discussed it. You were going to get access to the room and check out the security details.”

  “Well it didn't work out like that,” Dima hissed. He'd had enough of Sergey. If it weren't for the Hope Diamond, he'd have cut ties with him by now. Sergey had become a liability. When Dima found out Sergey had killed someone on behalf of the mafia, Dima had kept a safe distance from him. He'd only gotten back with him for one reason. Sergey was an expert in matters of security. Better said, he was an expert in overcoming it during bank raids. Dima had always wanted to own the Hope Diamond, and when he heard it was coming to New York, his interest had been awakened. Not that he wanted to make money from it; he just wanted to own it. Besides, he doubted whether he could sell it on the black market anyway. It was too famous, and he only knew a handful of people who had enough cash to buy it.

  “So, how the hell do you want to proceed now?” Sergey picked up a red lolly from the counter and began to unravel the clear film around it.

  “I've got a date with the sales girl. Don't worry, I'll find out what we need to know. She's sweet and soft, and I'm pretty sure I can unlock a few secrets.” He looked around the shop. It reminded him of so many stores in Moscow. He didn't want to be reminded of Moscow; it held no charm for him.

  *****

  She knew very well she shouldn't be there. It was slutty to go back to a man's apartment on the first date. But he was hotter than she could resist after two glasses of champagne, and the events of the last weeks had left her badly in need—in need of someone to hold her and tell her how special she was.

  Three million, five million, thirty million, she had no idea, but she knew his apartment had cost in the millions. Nobody bought an apartment this size with a view of the harbor without reaching deep into their pockets. Dima had gone to find a corkscrew and left Tyra standing on the balcony. She didn't like heights, and she got a strange tingling sensation in her feet when she looked down from the penthouse, thirty floors above the streets of Manhattan. Three weeks ago, I would have jumped from here, she thought.

  Just as a wave of despair threatened to envelop her again, it was smashed back by the feel of his protective arms. She hadn't heard him creep up on her from behind. Now he'd made a move, and she loved it. He stood behind her, wrapped her in his arms, and pulled her back into him. It made her feel safe and protected. As they looked over the city, she felt something behind her slowly moving against her leg.

  “I want you, Tyra,” he said gently.

  She turned and looked at him as he put his arms around her neck. “Take me to your bed and make love to me,” she said.

  When Tyra felt his naked body on hers, a tear flowed over her cheek. He was handsome and caring, and he'd aroused a level of sexual desire in her that she'd never felt before. When he'd undressed her, it was as if he was unwrapping a precious gift. With each layer he'd removed, she'd felt herself moving to a higher plateau of lust. Once she was naked she'd wanted to dash under the bedclothes and hide, but he'd held her, caressed all of her, and made her wet. When he'd started to undress, she hadn't been able to resist the temptation to touch herself. He was her private male stripper, and she couldn't get enough of it. When he'd put his hand to his shorts and lowered them over his strong thighs, she'd found herself rubbing faster.

  Now he was on top of her, naked and warm. He kissed her, and she opened her mouth to received his tongue. As they kissed, her legs opened, inviting him in. When she felt his penis against her, she reached down and placed it at her entrance. He looked deep into her eyes and pushed himself slowly inside her.

  When he began to make love to her, she realized how much she'd needed a man to cling to and how wonderful it felt to be filled by one. When she felt his thick desire splashing into her, she came too. Her spasms were strong, and they made her scream out. The noise she made was an attempt to drive out the pain forever.

  They slept for hours, and when Tyra woke, she noticed it was daylight. It was her day off, and she was looking forward to spending it with Dima. She looked across at him. He was asleep. He was lying, half under the sheet. The sight of his tight buttock and hairy thigh made her want him again, and she began to massage his back. He grunted, opened his eyes, and turned over. She smiled. He was big and rock hard again.

  “Tell me about work,” he said when they were finished. His body lay entwined in hers, and she felt relaxed.

  “What do you want to know?” She ran her hand over the hair on his chest and stomach and cupped his manhood. He smiled and shook his head.

  “How much does that job mean to you?”

  “Everything. Mr. Samuels and his wife have been so kind. Without them, I wouldn't have made it.”

  “Then you wouldn’t want to help me steal the Hope Diamond?”

  She laughed. “No, but I'll help you get this big man up and running again,” she said as her hand began to rub him. She loved the contrast between her black hand and his white shaft.

  “I'm not joking. I want the Hope Diamond.”

  She stopped what she was doing and raised herself onto one elbow. “You are joking, right?”

  He shook his head. “You can show me how to get it. You are close to all the security. I have a friend named Sergey. He is a genius when it comes to stealing things from high-security areas. He could tell you what he needs to know, and over the next few weeks you could give him the information he needs.”

  “You bastard. You absolute bastard.” She thumped his chest hard. He tried to hold her arms, but she ripped them from him and jumped out of the bed. “Have you been planning this the whole time? Make the stupid bitch fall in love with me and she'll tell me all,” she said, mimicking his Russian accent. “How could you take advantage of me like this? If my dad were alive, he'd kick your ass, you piece of crap. I never want to see you again.”

  *****

  “You're what?” Radley said, the furrows on his forehead looking deeper than ever. There was a distinctly cool atmosphere in his office as they discussed Tyra's situation.

  “She said she was pregnant,” his wife intervened. “Unmarried and pregnant. Tyra, I'm very disappointed in you. How could you let us down like this?”

  “Steady, Eliana. Don't be too harsh on her. Accidents happen. She's had a rough time lately, and maybe she needed a bit of love.”

  “Well, whatever she thought, she's let us down. She'll be off work for lord knows how long now. And even when she returns, she'll be cutting her days short to look after the child.”

  Will you stop talking about me as if I weren’t here? Tyra thought. “I'm sorry. It wasn't intentional, and we took precautions. Something went wrong.”

  “Who's the father?” Eliana asked, leaning forward in the armchair.

  “He’s Russian. I met him when he came to buy jewelry. He asked me on a date. I wasn't thinking straight; I'm sorry.” Tyra was feeling ill. It was just going on nine, and for the last three days she'd had terrible morning sickness.

  “A client. Tyra, you have been fraternizing with one of our clients? You know we frown on that kind of behavior.” Eliana slapped the arm on the chair in frustration.

  “Does he know?” Radley asked.

  Tyra looked up at him, star
tled. “No, and he never will. I will keep the baby and bring it up on my own.”

  “Then I'm afraid we will have to think what else we can do with the business,” Eliana said. “Under the circumstances, it would be foolhardly to go ahead with our plan to leave it to you. I don't want a Russian's bastard getting his hands on it in the future. You can keep your job here, but that's all.”

  “Eliana!” Radley exclaimed. But when he looked at his wife, he knew it was time for him to keep quiet.

  *****

  When Tyra got home to her studio in Washington Heights, she undressed and got into bed. She put her hands on her belly and closed her eyes. She began to wonder when life would stop kicking her, but she was so exhausted she could come up with no answer before she fell asleep.

  The next day was a bright summer day, and she woke up feeling better. For her, the most important thing now was to protect the child growing inside her. It was a blow that Eliana had reacted in such a way, but she accepted she had been foolish. What she had seen in Dima was now beyond her. Perhaps it had been his good looks or his money, or both. Maybe it had been the loss of her parents that had made her blind to his shortcomings.

  As usual, she showered, dressed, and sat down at the small table in the kitchen to eat some toast and jam. Yesterday she had been repulsed by strawberry jam, but today she couldn't stop eating it. She even considered having cheese with it. She'd always loved her morning coffee, but from now on she'd resolved to have tea in the morning. On her way home she decided she would buy some fresh mint from the organic shop downstairs and make mint tea herself. The last thing she always did before leaving home was pick up her cell phone from the table next to the front door. Fifteen missed calls from Dima. Delete his number, she told herself.

  Her apartment was in a block of twenty on the Upper East Side. It wasn't a large apartment, but it was expensive. When she was younger, she'd always wanted to live in the Upper East Side because it was so cosmopolitan. Just before she'd left home, she'd looked at rents there and decided she would never be able to afford it. Her mother and father had put money away for this eventuality, though, so Tyra had been able to get her dream location.

  She opened the door to leave and almost fell over a bouquet of flowers that had been left on the doorstep. She read the card. So sorry. please forgive me. Dima. She picked them up and took them with her. As usual, she nodded at the man from two floors up. He was on his way to work as well. She didn't know him, but they nodded at each other every morning. Wouldn't it be funny if we nodded at each other for the next forty years until we retired? she thought. So much happening in our respective lives yet never exchanging a single word about any of it. She followed him downstairs and out onto the street. There was the usual hustle and bustle as she walked to the bus stop. She dumped the flowers in the first trash can she came across.

  When a man bumped into her, she thought for a split second that she'd been in the wrong. She’d been looking in the florist’s window and not really concentrating on where she was going. But when he grabbed her and bundled her into the gray van, she tried to scream, but his hand was over her mouth. Nobody heard or saw anything. It all happened so fast. He slammed the door shut from the inside and put his weight on top of her while he reached for some tape.

  “What the hell are you—” she managed to say before he put his hand back over her mouth.

  “Shut up and do as I tell you. If you do, you won't be harmed. If you insist on making a noise, I'll have to hurt you.”

  Thinking of her baby, she decided to be quiet and do as he asked. The duct tape he placed over her mouth clung savagely to her delicate skin, and when she tried to speak through it, it stuck to her lips, making it impossible for her to move her mouth. He put her hands behind her back and taped her wrists together. He did the same to her ankles.

  When he drove off, Tyra had no way of holding on, and she slid across the floor, bumping into the side wall. When he turned a corner, she slid to the other side. Use your legs as buffers, she thought. Protect your belly at all costs.

  She concentrated on the man. Try and remember him, she told herself. He was short and bald, and she noticed a tattoo on his neck. He was wearing a navy T-shirt and a pair of old jeans, and he had a gold chain and a Rolex. She repeated all of that to herself a couple of times.

  When they stopped, Tyra let out a sigh of relief. She had been thrown from side to side, and it had been a great effort to stay on her back and keep maneuvering her feet in front of herself all the time. The van door opened, and she blinked against the sunlight. The man cut the tape at her ankles and pulled her out of the van.

  She was in a yard behind what appeared to be a mansion. It was, in any case, a large single property, but she was unable to determine whether it was a dwelling or for office use. A tree hung over the yard, and a gray squirrel ran in front of her and darted up it. The man pushed her to a door, and they entered the building. They were on the ground floor at the rear, in the old servants’ quarters. He opened another door and turned on a light. She saw a flight of steps.

  “Go down there,” he said. She put her foot on the first step and slowly began to descend, the man following close behind. Her arms were still tied behind her back, making it difficult to balance. She was petrified she would fall and lose her child. Eventually she made it to the bottom. She was in a damp cellar. There was just one solitary wooden chair in the middle of the room, nothing else.

  “How long you stay down here depends solely on you. If you tell me what I want to know, you can go soon. If you refuse to answer my questions, this may very well be the last place you ever see.” He was Russian; he sounded exactly like Dima. She figured he wanted to know about the Hope Diamond.

  Without saying any more, he sat her on the chair. He left her arms tied and the tape over her mouth. When Sergey climbed the stairs, he chuckled to himself. She wouldn’t ever leave this cellar, even if she told him what he wanted to know.

  *****

  At 9 a.m., Dima rang the bell at the jewelry store. Leon answered. “Hi. I need to speak to Tyra,” he said, stepping inside.

  Leon picked him up by the collar and took him outside. “You've got some nerve showing up here. She doesn't want to speak to you ever again, and officially I should be handing you over to the cops. She asked me not to when she told me what you'd requested from her.” Leon's twisted Dima’s jacket collar with his giant palm. “Leave, and don't show your face here again. You Russians are all the same. You may have bucket loads of money, but there is one thing money can’t buy: class.” Leon shoved him away and went back inside.

  I deserved that, Dima thought. No point in trying again; he's far too big.

  At ten, Radley came into the store from his office. “Where's Tyra?” he asked Leon.

  “I don't know, Mr. Samuels. I haven't seen her yet today.

  “But it's ten. She's always here early.” He looked at his watch again. “I'm worried about her.”

  “There was a Russian here an hour ago looking for her.”

  “Indeed. What did you tell him?”

  “Er...” Leon was lost for words. Tyra had told him in confidence about Dima's desire to pinch the Hope Diamond, and he didn't want Radley to think he'd scared a client away. “I told him she hadn't arrived yet.”

  *****

  When the light came on, Tyra closed her eyes against it. When she opened them, she saw the same man standing in front of her. He had a knife in his hand. Tyra screamed and stamped her feet as he ripped the duct tape from her face.

  “All right, miss.” He leaned in close, and she could smell vodka on his breath. “You work at Samuels, and you are going to tell me about the Hope Diamond. I want to know all the details.”

  “Please...I'm pregnant. Please don't hurt my baby.”

  “Who said anything about your baby? But good you mentioned it. I was going to punch you in your stomach; now I won't. I'll cut you instead.” He laughed as he held the knife to her chin.

  “Okay. What
do you want to know?” she said.

  “I want to know where exactly in the store it will be held. I also want to know how many guards there will be, and camera positions and number. Then I want a diagram of all the wiring in the room and the security codes.”

  My god, I don't' know any of that information, she thought. “I really don't know any of that, but if you let me go, I will see what I can do.”

  Again he laughed. “Good try, but pathetic. I suggest you think about it a bit more, because if you really don't know anything, the best you can hope for is a painless end.”

  She was cast into darkness when he switched off the light. She tried to recall what she knew about security. The problems was, it wasn't something they did at the store. It was outsourced to a specialist company, and she really did know nothing about it.

  Think! Darn well think, girl, she told herself. What have you noticed down here? What is there that can help you? Blank walls, a chair, a light, and nothing else. Nothing else at all.

  *****

  Radley and Leon stood in front of Tyra's front door and knocked loudly. There was no reply. “I don't know what to do now, Leon. We've rung her and knocked on her door. If she's inside, surely she would have answered.”

  “She went to work at the usual time.” Behind them, a door had opened. It was Mrs. Smith; she was the eyes and ears of the building. When she'd heard two male voices echoing on the staircase, she was curious and decided to see what all the fuss was about. “She took some flowers that a foreign-looking guy left on her doorstep last night and went to work at the usual time.”

  “What did the foreign guy look like?” Leon asked.

  “Blond, tall, well built, and wearing an expensive suit. He parked down the road in a red Ferrari.”