by Daiko, SC
I blew out a ragged breath. “He can’t do anything to you. I won’t let him.”
“I have to give him my answer next Sunday. If I don’t agree, he said the law would deal with me.”
I grasped her firmly by the shoulders. “Didn’t I just tell you he can’t do anything?”
She trembled in my hold. “You can’t promise that.”
“Oh, rybka.” I ran my finger down her cheek. “Don’t underestimate me. Justin Ward was fucking with you. He can’t do anything. That’s not a promise, it’s a guarantee.”
Her eyes grew distant, and slowly she nodded. “Okay… If it means I can carry on looking after Emma, I guess I’ll just have to trust you, Taras.”
Hearing my name from her again was like a match lighting a smoldering fire. I pressed my nose to the top of her head and breathed her in. She smelled fresh, natural, but incredibly sexy. I’d do everything I could to protect her. Emma needed Zoe in her life and what Emma needed, Emma got.
I tilted Zoe’s face up. Her topaz blue eyes locked with mine, and I could see the need in them, a need that matched my own. I brought my mouth down.
Fuck, she tasted delicious.
She gasped and slid her tongue along my bottom lip, making me grow hard against her. “Christ, Zoe,” I groaned into her luscious mouth.
Our heads switched sides, our tongues dancing, our lips sliding, the chemistry cracking between us like electricity.
We clung to each other, breathless, stumbling then stabilizing. Her hands clutched at my hair, tugging; my fingernails dug into her rounded hips, pulling her closer.
Fuck…
I bit down on her plump lip and she whimpered as she fused her leg to mine, wedging herself against my hardness.
I groaned and gripped her tighter, marching her backwards, kissing her roughly until her spine pressed against the wall. Her sharp teeth nipped at my mouth, her tongue seemingly desperate for more.
Stop, Taras! What the fuck are you doing?
I broke away and held her at arm’s length. “This has gone far enough.”
“You started it,” she came right back at me.
Goddammit.
“And I’ll finish it.” I quirked a brow. “Go now, before I do something I might later regret.” I’d said those words before, I realized.
“Yes, sir,” she saluted, echoing her performance from the first time I saw her.
We were both repeating ourselves.
I reached for her hand. “Good night, Zoe. And try not to worry about what happened with Justin Ward.” I squeezed her fingers. “I appreciate your loyalty in telling me.” That much was true. It had taken guts for her to fess up. “Your visa is watertight by the way.”
“Thank God,” she puffed out a breath. “I was worried I’d have to abandon Emma.”
“Not going to happen,” I reassured her as I opened the door. “I’m gratified you’ve made her your priority.”
She turned and gave me a sad smile. “I’d miss her so much.”
“She’d miss you too.”
And so would I, Mary Poppins, I suddenly realized.
More than you’ll ever know.
Chapter Ten
Taras
I stroked the thick stubble on my chin, pacing the floor in the boardroom of my office in downtown Fairwood, the penthouse of a modern high-rise block I purchased when I’d arrived in this town. I approached the coffee machine and poured myself a cup of espresso; I’d barely slept last night I was so fucking angry at what had happened to Zoe in Central Park. Almost certainly, she was being targeted, and I had a fairly good idea who was behind it.
Fuming, I knocked back the bitter beverage and then poured myself another. I’d throw all my resources into protecting her, goddammit. Not because I had feelings for her; I simply wouldn’t allow her to become a chink in my armor.
Eight years ago, I’d left Russia with the billions I’d made from investments in technology firms. I’d inherited a lot of money from Papa, and Nina’s father had gifted us a couple of million on our wedding day. My ex-wife was an only child, her mother Balandin’s daughter and her father one of his ex-KGB kingpins. Both of Nina’s parents had since passed away; she was alone in the world, which is one of the reasons why I still took care of her. Only one of the reasons, however. The main reason I hadn’t been able to abandon her completely was to shield her from those motherfuckers who preyed on those closest to me in order to breach my defenses.
I’d do everything in my power to defend and keep what belonged to me.
A knock rapped at the door and Demyan came into the room. I sat at the head of the table, indicating he should sit to my left. Quickly, I talked him through what had gone down with Zoe yesterday.
“What do ya wan’ me to do, Boss?” He squinted his brown eyes.
I made a steeple of my fingers. “I’ll allow her to meet with the so-called agent next Sunday. She can pretend she’s on board with informing on me. At the same time, I’d like you and a couple of the men to keep an eye on her and take pictures of him. We need to find out who the cunting bastard is.”
Demyan scratched the back of his thick neck and loosened his collar. “You think that’s wise? I mean, what if he is a bona fide fed?”
I flared my nostrils. “You and I both know that’s highly unlikely. In any case, the way he approached Zoe isn’t their modus operandi. An agent would use an undercover identity and gain her confidence before recruiting her. They wouldn’t be as blatant as the dick who went up to her in the park.”
“You think she’ll agree to the pretense? I mean, why should she?” Demyan shook his head.
I couldn’t tell him I’d gotten to know my daughter’s nanny better than any of the other girls I’d employed hitherto. That she’d faced up to me with steely determination regarding my daughter’s welfare. Zoe was courageous, there could be no doubts.
“She wants to continue looking after Emma,” I shrugged. “I’m paying her a shitload of money, more than she’d ever earn back in the U.K. My guess is she’ll agree. If she doesn’t, she’ll have to leave. I can’t see any alternative.”
It was the first time I’d given voice to those ideas. My throat felt uncomfortably dry. I fucking hoped it wouldn’t come to that…
“So, Boss,” my right-hand man broke into my thoughts. “Do you have any clue who could be behind it?”
I thwacked my knuckles on the table. “My guess is it’s the fucking Italians. We couldn’t beat the info out of Sergei, but I’m sure he was working for them. They want to muscle in on my business. Use it to bring in more money to buy their filthy drugs.”
“We pissed them off big-time last year,” Demyan reminded me.
I smirked, remembering how I’d arranged for a cocaine shipment headed their way to be seized by the crew of one of my speedboats posing as Feds who subsequently dumped it out at sea.
“Yep. La Cosa Nostra didn’t take kindly to me stepping on their toes. Those fucking Polombo.” I sneered. “Scum of the earth.”
Demyan’s laugh was sardonic. “Took them a while to work out it was us.”
“Which is why I think they’ve targeted Zoe with a similar sting.” I jiggled my foot under the table. “How were they to know she’d fess up? My guess is they’ll think they’ve put the frighteners on her, and she’ll do what they want.”
Demyan rubbed his hands together. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
I cocked my head to the side and reached for my packet of cigarettes. “What?”
He grinned. “She could carry on pretending to inform on us and give them false information.”
My body stiffened. “Far too dangerous. The meeting next Sunday, if she agrees to it, will be a one-off.” I flipped a Sobranie into my mouth and snapped open my lighter. “Once I’ve ascertained that the Polombo are behind the coercion, we’ll close ranks around Miss Addison and keep her safe. End of argument.”
I leaned forward and brought the flame to the tip of my smoke, inhaling while I
watched Demyan push back his chair.
“Sure thing, Boss,” he grunted, heading toward the door.
I waved him off before picking up my phone to place a call to Mrs. Konin. “Please arrange for Miss Addison to have dinner with me at home tonight,” I said after she’d answered.
If my housekeeper was surprised, she didn’t say so. She was the epitome of discretion, which was why I’d employed her for so many years. She merely inquired if there was anything special that she should prepare, and I told her to use her own initiative. I signed off and placed another call, to my lawyer this time. I’d assured Zoe her visa was watertight, but I wanted to make sure.
* * *
After a day of interminable meetings, I was glad to arrive home early enough for a quick work-out in my gym, followed by a shower. I shaved before changing into a pair of beige linen pants and white cotton dress shirt, then made my way to the dining-room.
Emma was there with Zoe. Perfect.
My daughter stepped toward me and raised her face for a goodnight kiss. “When can I have dinner with you, Papa?” she asked out of the blue.
I bent and pressed my lips to her forehead. “It’s your birthday next week, isn’t it? Miss Addison and I will discuss a surprise for you.”
“Wow,” she beamed and bounced on her toes. “Thank you.”
Zoe stared at me over my daughter’s head, a questioning expression on her face. I nodded, briefly. “I’ll expect you back down here asap.”
“Yes, sir.” She led Emma from the room.
I helped myself to a glass of red wine. I wouldn’t smoke, I decided, surprisingly.
Zoe wasn’t a smoker. I wouldn’t inflict it on her.
She returned shortly, dressed in the same halter-neck dress she’d worn before. Didn’t she have any other outfits? She wiped her hands nervously down her skirt and stared straight ahead. She’d tied her glossy dark hair back in a chignon and had smoothed on eye shadow. Makeup gave her an older, more sophisticated appearance.
Fuck, she was beautiful.
“Red or white?” I indicated toward the wine decanters on the table.
“White, please,” her voice sounded raspy, as if she was afraid.
I lifted my chalice in a toast, to put her at ease. “Bóo-deem zda-ró-vye, to our health.”
“Cheers,” the corners of her mouth trembled in a tentative smile as she clinked her glass with mine.
I pulled out a chair and she lowered herself gracefully. I sat next to her, breathing in her fresh, natural scent. Almost immediately, Mrs. K arrived with borscht soup and placed it in front of us before withdrawing discreetly.
I picked up my spoon and Zoe did the same. “This is amazing,” she said, after taking a sip. “Mrs. Konin is such a great cook.”
“I only employ the best,” I quipped.
“Why did you invite me to eat with you?” Zoe asked abruptly. “I mean, it’s kind of unusual…”
“There’s something I need to run by you. But let’s wait until we’ve finished eating…”
“Okay,” she visibly relaxed. “I thought you were going to fire me.”
“Hell, no,” I smiled with my eyes. “Your visa is absolutely watertight, by the way. I had my attorney check up on it.”
“Thank God.” Her bow-shaped mouth lifted at the corners, and she sat back in her chair.
Mrs. K approached to clear our plates and serve beef stroganoff accompanied by dill pickles and pan-fried potatoes. I dove in hungrily, then caught Zoe’s rapt expression. “Good?”
“I think I’m about to go into a food coma,” she sighed. “It’s delicious.”
“About Emma’s birthday,” I said. “What kind of surprise do you think she’d like?”
Zoe appeared to consider my question. “How about you take her to the ballet? I’ve heard the Metropolitan Opera House has some great performances…”
Hmmm, I stroked my chin. Could I risk it? There’s always safety in numbers. If I organized things well, there’d be no danger. “I think she’d prefer to go with you, not me…”
Zoe furrowed her brow. “You are her father, and she loves you, Taras.”
My name from her luscious lips sent tingles through my balls and I shifted position in my seat. “Alright, I’ll take you both,” I decided. “I’ll go online tomorrow, find out what’s on and get tickets.”
She thanked me at the same time as Mrs. K came in with fruit salad for our dessert. I complimented my housekeeper on the fine meal and told her to take the rest of the evening off. “Miss Addison and I will carry our plates through to the kitchen,” I said firmly. “Dobroy nochi,” I wished her goodnight.
I waited for Mrs. Konin to leave the room, not wanting her to overhear what I was about to say to Zoe. Without preamble I came straight out with my proposition for her to meet with Justin Ward on Sunday.
Zoe’s eyes widened, but she didn’t refuse outright. “Will I be safe?”
“I’ll be watching you with Demyan.” I injected as much confidence into my tone as I could. “We’ll bug you, so we can listen to everything that goes on. And I’ll have a team on standby. Meeting with that dickhead in the park, is probably the safest place you can have an encounter with him.”
She nodded, once, and fixed me in her topaz gaze. “I supposed if I say no, you’ll give me the sack?”
Despite what I’d told Demyan earlier, I would do no such thing. I reached across and took Zoe’s hand. “No, rybka. I’ll let you decide, no pressure. You’d be helping me if you agreed, but I’ve employed you to look after my daughter. There’s nothing you’ve done that would make me fire you.”
Her fingers grasped mine. “On one condition…”
“You’re setting conditions?” I quirked a brow.
“Didn’t you just say pretending to be an informer isn’t part of my job description?” she countered.
“Touché,” I barked out a laugh. “Name your price.”
“I don’t want more money.” Slowly, she picked up her dessert spoon, then put it back down on the table. “What I’d really like is to watch you play the cello. And duet with you face to face.”
I opened my mouth to refuse her request, but the imploring look in her dazzling dark blue irises pulled me up short. “Please think about it, Taras.”
I couldn’t say no.
This damned girl has gotten under my skin and there’s not a fucking thing I can do about it.
Chapter Eleven
Zoe
Taras’ room was more like a suite than a bedroom it was so big. We’d taken our plates through to the kitchen, he’d set the security alarms, and then we’d gone upstairs in silence. Maybe he was giving me the chance to change my mind? I knew what I was doing, though; this could only lead to one thing... what I’d been thinking about on a constant loop since he’d kissed me with such passion last night.
My pussy had been throbbing non-stop all day with need, the tingles speeding up while I was sitting next to him at dinner. I’d basked in the heat of his gaze as we’d discussed practicalities, but I almost couldn’t think straight. If Taras didn’t give me release soon, I told myself, I’d self-combust. Watching him play the cello and duetting with him would be a prelude, I hoped.
I’d agreed to help him with Justin Ward not only because I wanted to continue looking after Emma; but because I wanted to carry on working for Taras as well. He was the most fascinating man I’d ever met. I’d fallen for his daughter, and I was falling for him too. My breath caught on a suppressed sigh. My daddy had eventually called me this morning, pleading with me to come home. I’d told him I was fine. Ha!
I’d lied to him.
I wasn’t fine.
I was completely insane.
Taras was my boss and letting him fuck me would be a huge mistake. But I didn’t care. I would allow it to happen and suffer the consequences later.
I glanced around, taking in the luxurious furnishings in his room. I stared at the super king-sized bed. With a blush, I turned my gaze away fr
om it.
Taras had gone to his desk and was rifling through sheets of what seemed to be music scores. “I saw on your resume that you speak some French,” he turned toward me and handed me a sheet of paper, “this is an ancient song, Plaisir d’Amour, do you know it?”
“Bien sur,” I said with more confidence than I felt. “Of course.” My French was rusty. I’d studied it in high school only, and we’d had French nannies from time to time when I was growing up, but it had been a while since I’d spoken the language.
“Stand there,” he indicated toward the center of the room.
I did as he asked, watching him lift his cello from its stand, sit on a chair, and place it between his knees.
He began playing, and the sight mesmerized me so much I almost missed my place to start singing. His hands were beautiful, long-fingered and hairless. My heartrate soared at the way he held his instrument like it was a woman he was swaying in a sensuous dance. It was as if he was telling me with every note what he wanted to do to my body.
I duetted with him, singing about the pleasures of love only lasting a moment, but the grief of love lasting a lifetime. Tears of longing sprang to my eyes; I brushed them away before he could see them, hoping the words I intoned would warm his cold, cold heart.
We came to the end of the piece, and his gaze burned into me like a branding iron. “You sang that beautifully. As if you’d had some experience with the pleasures of love.” He shook his head. “Is there someone waiting for you in England?”
Heat flooded my cheeks. “There isn’t anyone. My ex and I broke up last Christmas.” I took a quick breath. “I’m not at all experienced….”
He stood and lifted the cello onto its stand. Pacing panther-like, he approached me. “I want to fuck you, Zoe. Is that what you want too?” His voice was so deep it vibrated through my bones.
I trembled, unable to look at him I was so flustered. “Y… y… yes,” I whispered, swallowing hard.
