by Miranda Kavi
He heard Gram moan and didn’t have to guess what he was doing now.
He walked away from the door. As he receded down the hallway, he heard the telltale banging of his bed frame against the wall.
Then there was silence.
They were much further along in their relationship than he thought, sneaking around him to be together. It complicated things for Dmitri, and he did not like complications.
He sank into the chair, poured a glass of water, and picked up a local newspaper. He waited, knowing eventually they would come out, find him here, and know they were found out.
After the sun started to fall away to night and Dmitri was almost done with the world news section, Gram finally strode into the room, pants unzipped with his shirt haphazardly tucked; his hand was wrapped around a small glass of amber liquid. He started when he saw Dmitri waiting for him in the dark.
“I…I did not know you were here,” Gram said.
“Clearly,” Dmitri said. “Sit.”
Gram glanced behind him and then sat. “Naomi is here,” he murmured.
“I know,” Dmitri said. “I thought we agreed that it was over.”
Gram swirled his drink, making the ice cubes clink together. “We did not agree.”
“Gram,” Dmitri said. He paused, waiting for the right words to come. “You cannot continue this, and you know that.”
“Oh yeah?” Gram sneered. He slammed his glass down. “What about Sophia. You ‘could not’ and you did. Why can’t I?” He looked away into the shadows at the end of the room. “If you can, I can. I am just as capable as protecting her as you did Sophia.”
“I do not doubt that, brother. But look at what happened between me and Sophia.”
Gram launched himself off the couch. “But I am not you, and Naomi is not Sophia. I will not live in the shadow of your failure. We have agreed to protect her. What is the difference if she is with me or you? As long as she is with us, she is safe from the S-Triangle.”
Dmitri dropped his chin. “We have not agreed to protect her; we agreed to pretend she was mine.” He stood next to his brother, putting his arm around his shoulder. “There is a difference, especially to the man who paid us for this. I am the head of this organization, and you are—”
Gram pushed his hand off. “And I am nothing, brother? Fuck you.”
He stormed out of the room, back down the hallway.
Dmitri watched him leave. It was a total cluster-fuck now. Gram was not an emotional person. He didn’t act like this. Dmitri needed Gram’s coolness now. If he lost Gram or if he became a liability, he didn’t even want to think about what’d he have to do, or if he’d even do it.
Fuck.
His newest burner phone rang. The New Orleans area code flashed up again. Dmitri answered the call. “Not now, Pierre.”
“Don’t hang up! Don’t hang up!” Pierre shouted through the phone.
Dmitri’s hackles rose. “What is it?”
Pierre exhaled loudly. “I’ve been trying to reach you for weeks, but you didn’t answer. I kept trying and now I don’t know…”
“Tell me now,” Dmitri said.
“Sophia,” Pierre said. He breathed heavily, as if he’d been running. “It’s Sophia. She’s in Russia looking for you. She’s been there for over a month.”
Dmitri’s knees gave out. He caught himself before he hit the floor. “What?” He crouched against the wall like a small child. “Tell me,” he said. His voice was rough and he didn’t like how weak he sounded.
“She came to see me. She said she was going to find you. She’s been waiting for you at Palace Square every day at ten in the morning.”
“What?” Dmitri shouted. “Is there more?”
Pierre exhaled. “She said…she said to tell you she loves you.”
Dmitri almost retched. He snapped inside and his feelings came out. He’d put them behind a wall of smooth glass in his chest, but they had been there. The ache for her. His feelings for her. The love. The constant state of arousal. All for her.
He tightened his hand into a fist, shoving it in his mouth to stop the sobs. He gained control a few seconds later. “Where is she staying?”
He jotted down the name of the hotel, though he didn’t need to. It was a landmark.
He hung up with Pierre then called the hotel. He called her room first; it rang and rang and rang. He hung up and called again. Same thing.
He hung up and called the front desk.
“Sophia Latrude. Room 3025,” he said.
“Hold, please,” the clerk said.
Dmitri waited, leaning against the wall for support.
Another click on the line. “Sir, she checked out two days ago.”
He threw the phone on the ground and ran to his room. He glanced at the clock. It was already after dinner hours. He pushed open the bedroom door where Gram and Naomi were now fully clothed and seated on the bed speaking in low voices. He ignored them, grabbing his wallet, keys, and briefcase from the top drawer of his dresser. He was frantic, panicked.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Gram ran to him. “What is going on?”
“St. Petersburg. I am leaving now.”
“What for?” Gram barked.
Dmitri whirled to face him. “She is there. She has been looking for me for weeks.”
Gram leaned back like he’d been slapped. Naomi was wide eyed on the bed, unmoving. “She is going to get herself killed, if she has not already,” Gram said.
“I know that!” Dmitri shouted.
“I will go with you, brother,” Gram said, and there was no anger in his voice.
Chapter 10
SOPHIA
Sophia clutched the plane tickets she’d just grabbed off Tatiana’s printer. She double checked the flight time. She had plenty of time to finish packing and get to the airport.
Tatiana leaned against the door frame. She’d just woken up and was a tangle of platinum hair, smeared eye makeup, baggy sweats, and a crop top she somehow made cute. “I do not think this is wise,” she said in Russian.
“I’ve always wanted to go.” She tossed the brochure to Dubrovnik to Tatiana. She watched her flip through the pages filled with shots of the beautiful walled city on the crystal blue sea. “It’s called the Pearl of the Adriatic.”
Tatiana tossed it back. “It’s beautiful, yes, but you do not need to go to Croatia right now.” She strolled into the room, handing Sophia a cup of coffee. “You are running away from something that you cannot outrun.”
Sophia crossed her legs underneath her, breathing deeply to keep the pain from bubbling up. She was tired of crying. “I need to get away from here.”
Tatiana frowned and then sat next to her so their knees were touching. “You should not be alone. You have met too many dangerous people to travel alone.”
Sophia sniffed the coffee before taking a sip. “I’ll be just another blond. No one will notice me.”
“This is stupid. Stay here. You can heal here, with friends. In your new life,” Tatiana said.
Sophia turned it over in her head. She’d never had Dmitri here, but his memory was somehow ingrained in the city that thrummed below her feet and the accents of the people that filled its streets.
This is where she’d lost him.
“I can’t, not yet,” she said.
She wasn’t sure what she was going to do yet. Her days had been strings of pain and heartache. Of loss. Of sorrow. She was tired of living it every day.
Maybe she would come back to Russia and move in with Tatiana and work in one of Ivan’s clubs. Maybe she’d try to sneak back into the United States, undetected by the media. Maybe go somewhere new. She was adrift in a life raft, getting ready to leave the safety of the lagoon and head out to the ocean.
“I better go,” she said.
Tatiana helped her pack her things into her small suitcase then walked her outside to hail a cab.
By some small miracle, she hailed a legit cab. More expensive, but in her opinio
n, safer than the “unofficial” drivers that cruised the city.
He popped out to help her with her suitcase. Tatiana hugged her then stepped back and sniffed. “Please come back. You always have home here.”
Sophia smiled. “Thank you, for everything.”
She stepped into the cab. He shut the door for her then got in and pulled away from the curb.
Sophia rested her head against the glass and watched the city fly by. She saw a flash of the Winter Palace a couple blocks over. Her heart jumped.
She needed closure, to say goodbye. “Wait!” she said on an impulse. “Stop here.”
“I thought you wanted airport,” the driver said.
“Just stop,” she croaked.
He did. “I not wait,” he said.
She shoved her fare at him and then took her suitcase out of the trunk. She rolled it to the square.
It was early in the morning. The Hermitage was not close to being open, so there was no line in the ticket queue. There were no vendors. No familiar beer man. Just a few scattered souls pacing around.
She stopped in the middle, head hanging low. The museum was beautiful in front of her, all green and gold and lovely. She’d hoped to have a reunion here, another piece in her elaborate fantasy.
How silly she’d been.
She cried again, opening the permanent gash on her soul and spilling all her pain forward. Tears ran down her face and dripped onto her shirt.
It was over. Really over. All of it.
DMITRI
The private plane touched down just as daylight was touching the city. Dmitri opened his phone and checked in with the trusted scouts he’d dispatched to the Palace Square and the hotel. If she was still here, he’d find her.
He cracked his knuckles and fidgeted in his seat.
“Calm down,” Gram said. “People are watching.”
Dmitri didn’t give a shit who was watching. She had come for him. She loved him. She wanted him.
Hope sprang to life in his chest, something he hadn’t felt since his days with her.
They finally deplaned and got into the waiting car. His phone was already chirping when they peeled away.
The man on the other end told him the words he wanted to hear more than anything. “She’s at the Palace Square, alone.”
“Protect her,” he told the man. “GO!” he shouted to the driver.
He clenched his fists until his knuckles were white, ignoring the stares from Gram and Naomi.
The traffic was growing heavy and it was taking too long.
The car stopped in bumper-to-bumper traffic blocks away from the square. He leapt out and ran, long legs churning, ignoring the shouts from Gram in the car.
He reached the square. It was not crowded yet in the early morning.
But she was there. He recognized her instantly, even from the back. Standing alone, a suitcase at her feet. Her head was dropped into her hand, silky blond hair tumbling over her black shirt.
He ran and then slowed to a walk as he approached her from the side. He came close. Close enough to detect her sweet scent, to see the tears running down her beautiful face. “Lyubov moya,” he whispered. He reached for her.
SOPHIA
She swore she heard him speak, call her “my love” like he used to in a soft voice he only used with her. She swore she felt his presence, and she hated the cruelty of the illusion.
Then she heard it again. She turned.
Dmitri was standing in front of her, towering over her with his height, chest heaving with stressful, shallow breaths. He was in an all-black suit with tousled hair, reaching for her with tears in his eyes. Her heart exploded.
“Dmitri!” she shrieked. Her heart leapt in her chest, pounding out a wild rhythm. She wanted to run into his arms. To feel him against her. To find the safety of his arms.
She crumpled to the ground. It was an illusion. A tortuous angel of death sent to punish her for all she’d done. She pressed her hand over her chest to keep all the pain in.
“Sophia,” he whispered, kneeling next to her, “please look at me.” He put his hand on her face, swiping away the tears on her cheeks.
Her skin burned beneath his touch. Her pulse raced. She felt him. He was real. He was here.
“I came for you. Pierre told me you were looking for me. I did not know until a few hours ago.”
“I...I...” She didn’t know what to say. She drank him in, clenching her fists to keep them from reaching out. “You moved on. I saw the pictures. I…” She blinked rapidly. “I was looking for you. I found someone to look for you. They photographed you with...a woman. So I stopped looking. And now I’m leaving.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he growled. He grabbed her shoulders, pulling her to her feet, forcing her to look at him eye to eye. “I am broken without you. There is no other woman. There will never be another woman for me.” He pulled her close and wrapped his strong arms around her. She almost broke when he did.
He kissed her roughly, his tongue finding hers. The chemistry ignited, hot and hungry between them. He was greedy and aggressive and skilled, like he always was.
She came alive, tucked in the safety of his arms. She felt his soft lips against hers; his hunger and desperation filled her up. She let her arms wrap around his neck, and her fingers plowed through his hair. Every cell in her body sighed with relief and joy.
“Wait,” she gasped. She put her hand on his broad chest and pushed him back, forcing several inches between them, even though her body screamed for his closeness. “The woman in the pictures.” She shook her head back and forth, fighting the tears again. “I can’t, Dmitri…”
“A friend’s daughter. He paid me to protect her from an arranged marriage,” Dmitri said in Russian, his eyes pleading with hers.
“You realize that sounds crazy. Fucking crazy,” Sophia said.
“She is with Gram. They are lovers. I would not lie to you,” Dmitri said. “There is only one for me, and it is you.” He touched her forehead then her lips, almost reverently with a shaking hand.
It was so much. Too much. She couldn’t move. She bit her lip. “Dmitri, I—”
He gently cupped her face with his hands. His green eyes bore into hers. “My love, please listen. Can you do that?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“I will ask you now, as I did before.” He swiped his fingers across her lips, his expression so agonizing it almost made her crumble again. “Will you come with me, Sophia? Will you trust in me?”
She stared into his eyes, the beautiful ache for him swelled inside her soul. She’d said no before, back in Houston. She’d almost missed her chance. She wouldn’t make that mistake again.
“Yes.” Her word carried the impact of her meaning. She saw it when it really hit him, that she was his now.
He stroked her face with the pad of his thumb. “Lyubov moya,” he whispered. She didn’t answer; she couldn’t because he was kissing her again. This time soft and sweet.
She cried as their lips joined. She clenched his shoulders in a vice grip, digging her fingers into his jacket.
He was really here. She could taste him on her lips, feel his strength pressed into her, smell his scent.
They kissed until her lips swelled, neither one of them wanting to let go. They continued kissing as random passersby started making catcalls and jokes.
“Sir,” said a formal voice.
They broke apart. Gram was standing there, arms hooked with the beautiful woman she’d seen in the photos.
He looked different. She’d never really seen his face in full view before. He’d avoided meeting her gaze in Houston. He’d always had his long hair hanging in his face, or a brimmed hat pulled low, obscuring his features. Now, a broad smile crossed his face, and his hair was pulled back into a neat, low pony tail.
She was surprised at how handsome he was, and his face had a familiar shape. My God. They’re related, she realized.
“Welcome back, Sophia,” Gram said. He s
urprised her further by pulling her into quick hug.
“Hi, stranger in Gram’s body.” She hugged him back. “You could have told me you guys were related before now.” She sent a scathing glance to Dmitri.
Gram smiled wider. “Does it matter that we are brothers? Not very many people know.” Sophia decided she could get used to this smiling, chatty Gram pretty quickly.
“Still should have told me back in Houston,” she looked at Dmitri when she spoke.
“I am sorry for that,” he said.
The pretty woman held out her hand, breaking the tension. “Naomi,” she said crisply in lovely accented English.
“Sophia,” she answered, shaking her hand.
She stepped back from them both, overwhelmed. Dmitri saw her need right away, because Dmitri saw everything.
“We are leaving,” Dmitri said, eyes on Gram and Naomi.
The Palace still loomed in front of her, all splendid and lustrous in the early morning light. Because of him, the beauty of the world had been recaptured for her.
“Come with me.” Dmitri held out his hand.
“Yes.” She took his hand and they left together, walking past the beer man who tipped his hat and winked at Sophia.
Chapter 11
Sophia and Dmitri walked down the hallway of the massive hotel his men had already checked into for them. She still couldn’t believe he was back in her life, walking next to her as if they’d never been apart.
His face was impassive. He’d slipped back into his old distant self after they’d left the square. She wasn’t worried though. She knew that sternness was his public persona. What he was to her behind closed doors was only for them.
He bade goodbye to Gram and Naomi with a tight nod. They were staying a few doors down from them. He swiped his card and then pushed open the door.
He held it open for her and then stepped inside behind her. The door slammed shut behind them, leaving them alone in the dark, quiet interior of the luxurious hotel room.
He pushed her against the wall, crushing his lips to hers. He pinned her hands against the wall behind her and entwined their fingers. The effect was dominating and sweet at the same time.
An ache filled her up. How she’d longed for this, begged for this, prayed for this moment.
