by Fiona McGier
Alexandra had enough. She turned quickly and walked out through the doors left unlocked for smokers to seek refuge on the balcony. She didn’t stop until she had reached the opposite end of it and leaned against the ornate railing.
Dmitri followed her closely and, as she contemplated whether or not she would break a leg if she jumped, he spoke into her ear. His lips were so close to her skin the hairs on her neck stood at attention and a shiver ran down her spine before taking a detour to send the tingling sensation to the juncture between her thighs, making her legs shake.
“You don’t appear to be happy to see me, Sashka.”
She whirled around to face him. “What the fuck are you doing here? How did you even find the right place? This is an invitation-only event. What the hell kind of conglomerate are you supposed to represent? And how did you pick my dad out of the crowd, to get him to introduce you to me?”
Dmitri smiled at her, shaking his head. “You don’t really want to know the answers to all of those questions. The only question you really want to know is why I’m here. The answer should be obvious. I’m here because it’s Saturday night and you’re here. Where else would I be?”
Sparks flew out of her eyes as she spat out, “At the bar? Fucking one of the biker babes there? Not here, intruding on my private life!”
He didn’t back off, but stared into her eyes. “Private life? Is there anything more private than what you and I have shared for weeks now?”
“Okay, my weekday life. My businesswoman persona. You’re not a part of this part of my life. You don’t belong here.”
A smile played with the corners of his mouth. “But that’s where you are so wrong, Sashka. I belong wherever you are. I told you when I met you we both wear many faces and many names. I actually told your father my real name, though your knowing that gives you more power over me than I had intended for you to have at this point. But it will make things easier to explain to him when we tell him we’re going to be married.”
“What,” she shrieked as her face registered anger and shock.
“Oh, did I say that out-loud? My bad. We’d better get into the dining room or your father and his lovely trophy wife will wonder where we are, since we’ll be missing the soup course.”
“Of all of the delusional, conceited, over-bearing…”
“Yes, yes, we can argue later. I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry.”
He reached out and took hold of her elbow and began walking towards the unlocked door back into the brightly-lit great room.
She walked without thinking about what she was doing, as her mind continued to try to process what was going on.
“But…” she sputtered as the door shut behind them.
“Later, Alexandra, we don’t want your father to suspect we have already met, do we? That might lead to some embarrassing questions.”
He glanced over at her and smiled. She glared at him as they were ushered by the wait-staff into the dining room. A quick look around the room led them to the table her father was seated at, as he stood up and waved to get their attention.
“There you are, you two. Where did you go?”
“Your beautiful daughter wanted to show me the view of the golf course from the balcony. She also explained the national presence that a company of your size and stature could offer to my partners, should we decide we need help in introducing our products to your market.”
Thomas wasn’t sure what to make of his daughter’s face, but he definitely approved of her continuing to demonstrate for their new acquaintance why the company he had built from scratch was so formidable. So he pointed to the two chairs he had saved opposite him from his wife, and he introduced Dmitri to the people seated at their table. As the soup was being served, he made sure Dmitri’s glass was full of wine and launched into a discussion of international relations as they pertained to marketing and sales.
While he noticed his daughter wasn’t her usual talkative self, he put that down to her working such long hours for the firm that hired them on a contingency basis. And besides, Dmitri had many interesting observations that at least the men at the table found fascinating as he compared the marketing environment of the Communist and pre-Glasnost USSR with the recent developments in Russia.
Alexandra watched surreptitiously as they were served each course, and noticed that not only were Dmitri’s manners impeccable, but he ate in the European style, holding his knife in his right hand, and his fork in his left, instead of just cutting his food that way, then putting the knife down to eat with his right hand, as was the custom in the US. She realized with annoyance he was more cultured and sophisticated than she was, having traveled on many of the continents, while she was an all-American gal. If any of the women at the table excused themselves to leave for the powder room, Dmitri would stand up in deference and respect, then seat himself slowly back down, without missing a beat of the conversation he was involved in. She didn’t really taste most of what she ate, but she drank more wine than she intended to, even though it wasn’t her first choice of what to drink with a beef dinner.
Once the dinner plates were removed and coffee served, the conversation became centered on what the chef, who was known for his desserts, might have created for them that night. Alexandra was only half paying attention when she almost jumped up in alarm as she felt something rubbing her right thigh. She looked on the table and saw Dmitri drinking his coffee with his right hand, and realized it must be his left hand that was now actively caressing her upper thigh under the tablecloth.
Dmitri turned to her to smile in a casual manner and asked, “So tell me, Miss Blackstone, will the weather ever get warmer here in Minneapolis? Or was I lied to, and the only temperature ever recorded up here is cold, cold, and colder? It is uncomfortably close to what I’ve experienced in Siberia and hoped to have left behind me.”
Alexandra tried for a natural smile, but his hand was insistently rubbing between her thighs. She tried to stop him by squeezing them closely together, but that only exacerbated the problem, since now not only were her thighs pressing on her clit, but Dmitri’s magic fingers had been captured also, and were continuing to stimulate her in ways she couldn’t allow with her Dad sitting on the other side of the offender.
“Um, we do get to spring eventually, usually by Mother’s Day in mid-May. Certainly by Memorial Day. Then a few weeks later summer arrives, and the good times roll until fall hits in September and the snow returns by October.”
He nodded. “So you have…what…three or four months out of the year that you can enjoy outdoor activities? Like driving a convertible or riding a Harley?”
Now he’s gone too far! Groping me and taunting me about my bike here, of all places. I’ll show him!
She began to push herself away from the table abruptly, and his fingers had to stop what they were doing before they were revealed.
“If you’ll excuse me, I need to visit the powder room. And please let the server know I’m not interested in any dessert.”
“May I have yours?” Dmitri asked with a wicked smile playing on his lips as he rose in respect for her being up. “I have an incessant desire for sweet things on my tongue.”
“Suit yourself,” she said tartly as she headed for the exit to the hall.
Once in the bathroom Alexandra spent an inordinate time on her appearance, even though she carried only lipstick in her bag. She pretended to be adjusting her dress and fussing with her make-up, to put off having to head back out to the surreal dilemma she’d been presented with. Eventually she sighed heavily and pushed the door open. Since there wasn’t any sign of Dmitri, she quickly hurried over to the bar in the great-room. The lighting had been lowered for the evening, and the DJ was putting the finishing touches on his equipment.
She approached the bartender who was putting out napkins to get ready for the incipient crowd.
“Do you have Jack Daniels?”
“No, Ma’am.”
“What kind of whiskey do you h
ave?”
“Name-brands?”
She nodded wordlessly.
He began to list the choices but she soon stopped him.
“Give me a double shot of Maker’s Mark.”
He turned to fill her order and she felt movement behind her and knew without turning around that Dmitri had found her.
“Isn’t that kind of strong when you’re trying to maintain your image in front of all of these people?”
She hissed at him. “Leave me alone!”
He chuckled in her ear. “I can’t do that, Sashka. You’re in my blood. You’re becoming a part of me.”
She whirled on him. “That can’t continue!”
“Are you ready for it to end?”
She stared into his dark eyes for a long moment. When the bartender returned with her glass, Dmitri turned to him. “Do you have Beluga vodka?”
A slow smile spread across the man’s face. “Why, yes, sir. We do. But few have a discerning enough palette to ask for it.”
“Give me a double-shot please, no ice.”
The bartender went off again to fill the order.
“We need to talk,” Alexandra hissed.
“But not here,” Dmitri countered as the bartender returned and Dmitri put a generous amount on the counter to cover the drinks as well as a tip.
“Why not?”
He inclined his head towards the door. “Because the rest of the members are coming into this room now for the evening. The DJ has started to play music. And I want to dance with the most beautiful woman I have ever met.”
She took a sip from her glass and scowled. “Dance?”
“Yes, you know…we stand close to each other and your body feels what mine is doing, then follows along. It’s the closest we can get to fucking in public, while still pretending to be strangers. Of course there’s always the danger our bodies are so in tune with each other that it will be obvious to everyone we are lovers…”
Alexandra gulped the rest of the liquid and slammed her glass to the bar. “You’re on, big man. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
With a smirk, Dmitri downed his double-shot and took her hand to lead her out onto the dance floor to join the first few couples already practicing their ballroom moves. The first few songs were older tunes, the kind that called for more formal dancing. They did a waltz, a quick-step, a fox-trot, and a slow dance that allowed for way more bodily contact than Alexandra was comfortable with, knowing her father and his friends were there watching them.
Shit! He acts like he belongs here more than I do! His manners are impeccable. His small talk entertained everyone all through dinner. And now I find out he’s a great ballroom dancer also? He’s all of that and yet also still the edgy Russian with dangerous talents and skills that make him a great bouncer in a biker bar. And he fucks like an animal! If I had to pick only one man to have for the rest of my life, I’d want it to be someone like him…
Her train of thought was interrupted as Dmitri took advantage of the steady dimming of the lights that was meant to enhance the mood of those dancing and encourage others to join them. The hand behind her trailed fingers along her spine making her shiver from the contact. He leaned forward to speak directly into her ear, his warm breath raising the hairs along her neck, as a second shiver raced the other one to be the first to warm her clit with memories of pleasure and new anticipation.
“Would anyone think we were being impolite if we were to leave soon? I’m not sure how much longer I can stop myself from bending you over a table and enjoying your screams as I make you come.”
A tremor ran through her entire body as every cell lit up with excitement. “Um, I think we could probably use the excuse that I’m going to show you some of the skyline of the Twin Cities at night. Everyone will agree what a good idea that is, while also assuming we’re going to head somewhere more private. But no one will call us on it…”
“Not even your father?”
Alexandra arched one eyebrow. “Especially not him. He’s the one who introduced us. He’ll be hugging himself thinking he finally introduced me to a man I might find interesting. And the fact he’s already salivating about the business you might send our way means he’ll be anxious to encourage us to continue exploring what we might have in common.”
Dmitri’s eyes narrowed as the corners of his lips rose. “Then let’s tell your father we’re leaving and head back to your condo.”
As Alexandra had suspected, her father was enthusiastic about the idea of her entertaining Dmitri with a tour of the cities. He shook Dmitri’s hand warmly, reminding him that the company now being run by his daughter could handle any business needs the Russian conglomerate might have.
“You should join me for lunch here soon. The chef does a themed lunch here every Thursday. I’m sure he’d be glad to try his hand at Russian delicacies in your honor. You must miss the food you grew up with, being so far from home.”
Dmitri smiled. “You have my card. If you email me with the date, I’ll try to arrange my schedule to allow for another fine meal at your club.”
“Excellent. Good-night, then. Have fun.” Thomas turned to his wife to pat her arm dramatically. “Oh, to be young again…”
Alexandra, who was less than ten years younger than her stepmother, smiled inwardly at the fleeting look of jealousy that raced across the other woman’s face as Dmitri held her coat for her to slip her arms into and his hands lingered for a moment on her shoulders.
“Good night, Abby. See you soon, Dad.”
A few minutes later they stepped outside and Alexandra took a deep breath. “The air is still cold, but it feels good to be out of there, finally.” The valet approached them as she asked Dmitri, “Did you drive here?”
Dmitri shook his head, “No, I took a taxi. I figured he’d know how to get here better than me. Plus I didn’t plan on going home alone.”
Alexandra’s lips twitched in amusement. “Cocky, aren’t you?”
He bent over to whisper into her ear. “You’d know.”
The valet took the ticket she handed him wordlessly and went off to retrieve her vehicle.
“Stop it!” she hissed. “Wait until we can’t be seen anymore.”
Dmitri shrugged. “No one’s watching us out here. Besides, your dad likes me.”
“He likes the business he thinks you’ll bring us, you mean,” she corrected.
“Same thing.”
“Is there really any business?”
“There might be…”
The valet pulled up in front of them and opened the driver’s side door. With a pointed glance at her passenger, Alexandra strode over to the open door and ignored the valet who was attempting to help her into her seat. Dmitri got in on the other side and they drove off into the night.
* * * *
The elevator ride up from the parking garage wasn’t private, since there was an elderly couple with a small, barking dog already in it when the door slid open. Dmitri’s eyes were dark with passion whenever Alexandra glanced at his face, and since she was also anxious to be alone with him, she kept looking at the numbers on the wall, willing the elevator to be quicker than usual. It wasn’t, but eventually the door slid open on her floor and the tiny dog yapped at them as they walked out. They both walked quickly to her door and Alexandra unlocked it with Dmitri pushing it open from next to her.
Immediately after she locked the door, Alexandra turned to Dmitri and grabbed at the huge bulge tenting out the pleats in the front of his trousers.
“Fuck me now!” She hissed at him.
A small smile played on the corners of his mouth as he shook his head slowly.
“No. That’s not how I want to play this out tonight.”
“What?” Outrage made her voice higher than its usual low timbre.
“Tonight I was a gentleman in a very exclusive club. I was introduced to the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, who allowed me to press myself against her as we danced. She lit a fire inside of my soul that dema
nds satisfaction…”
“Yes.” Alexandra rubbed herself against the immovable wall of man in front of her. “Satisfaction…I like the sound of that…”
He put both of his hands over hers where she was busily undoing the knot of his tie.
“Patience, Sashka. Tonight I’m not up for simple fucking. I want to make love with the fiery redhead who has captivated my very soul. I want to demonstrate to her how much she has moved this cold, dark, dour Russian man to want to bask in her sunlight. I want her to feel cherished, to let her know how precious she is to me. And making that kind of love takes time.”
Alexandra sighed dramatically. “Is this going to take so long I should get myself a drink so I have something to do while I’m waiting for you to finally plow your way into my—”
The corners of his lips rose as he shook his head, covering her lips with a finger to silence her.
“Tonight I plan to worship at the altar of your beauty. I hid a bottle of French Champagne in your fridge yesterday. I’ll get it, along with two glasses. Then I’ll follow you into the bedroom and seduce you as a gentleman does a lady.”
Alexandra rolled her eyes. “Fine. As long as I eventually get laid…”
She turned and headed toward the bedroom with him following right behind her until he turned into the kitchen to grab the supplies.
When he strode into the bedroom a few minutes later carrying the bottle and two crystal flutes, he was amused to see Alexandra had posed herself on the bed, with one leg bent, the other straight out, providing him with an uninterrupted view of her lack of panties. She smiled at him as he put the glasses onto the table next to the bed and began to loosen the cork from the bottle.
“Are you sure you want to take your time, mister?” She purred. “I’m already dripping hot for you…why not take the edge off quickly, then we can take things slower after that?”
He poured the bubbling liquid into the two glasses and handed one to her as he shook his head.
“No, my dear. This is too perfect of an opportunity to resist. We both wear many faces, as I’ve said before. Tonight is for you to be a lady being seduced by a gentleman. Especially one you didn’t expect to find at the club where you are usually bored with the selection of men.”
