Falling for the Mob Soldier: Sokolov Brothers Book Two

by North, Leslie

  “I’m so sorry, Elena. I didn’t know. I thought… I thought you were trying to deceive me, and couldn’t have imagined that you didn’t know. I’m so sorry. So, so sorry.” The remorse in his voice was genuine, and Elena instantly forgave him.

  Her father, on the other hand, was a different story. When Elena had been fourteen, she and her sister had gone on a trip to Europe with a chaperone while her parents had stayed home, preparing to move to a new house. Then, her father had called, and that’s when she’d found out her mother had died. Between her and her sister being in Europe and the move, they’d put off having a funeral for her mother. It wasn’t until now that Elena realized exactly why her father had been so adamant about focusing on their move instead of having a funeral for her mother.

  “I can’t believe… he would do that.” Elena sniffled and wiped her eyes before continuing. “My mom struggled with MS for years and was starting to get bad, back then, but I can’t believe he would just put her in a nursing home and lie to us! Who does that?”

  “Your father is an evil man,” Roman said quietly. “But you can’t blame yourself. You were deceived. As painful as that is, especially when it was someone so close to you who hurt you, it isn’t your fault. All you can do is continue doing what you believe to be right, in this moment, here and now.” He reached over and swept the hair out of her face, his touch leaving pinpricks on her skin.

  Before he could pull away, she clasped his hand to the side of her face, relishing the contact.

  Roman’s words about deception and betrayal were a cruel reminder of what she had been sent here to do. But after learning about her father’s own deception, she couldn’t be so sure that she was willing to carry through with her mission at all. There was too much to think about, to consider, for her to answer those questions now.

  “Stay with me,” she said softly, glancing to his eyes. Their gazes locked, and pinpricks of pleasure spread through Elena’s chest and down her spine like dainty, glimmering diamonds spilled across a table.

  Gradually, both drew nearer to each other. Roman’s mouth met Elena’s. The hand on her face slipped downward, to her neck, as the kiss deepened. She let go of his fingers and instead turned to fully face him and wrap her arms around his neck.

  Tongue moved against tongue. She was hungry for him now. They both shifted on the bed, their bodies closer than ever. With her only wearing a satin nightgown, and him in cotton pajamas, she could feel the delicious warmth rise from their bodies. So near, she smelled the spiced, masculine aroma of his skin and delighted in the taste of his mouth.

  Memories of how calm and controlled he had been during their terrifying flight joined his soothing embrace now, and Elena felt her heart lift despite the shocking news about her mother. But he’d brought her that gift, that news, and now he was here with her, closer than ever.

  As though sensing her need, he pressed against her in turn. Their faces continued the rhythm of their kiss. Heat flushed her skin.

  Her breath caught in her throat as arousal flooded her. Her hands journeyed from around his neck, down his strong chest, to find that he, too, was aroused. His cock throbbed under its cotton confines, growing harder with each beat of his heart.

  When her fingertips brushed the tip of his burgeoning erection, he moaned gently against her mouth. The sensation was incredible, and Elena wanted more. She pressed their mouths together, teeth clacking against teeth as the kiss intensified.

  The slow motions of their lips grew almost frenzied. With her eyes squeezed shut, Elena’s world was all sensation and no vision. She sucked against his mouth and he against hers. While her hands traced the outline of his cock, his roamed downward from her neck, along her sides, to grasp at her hips and pull her closer still. His motions were controlled and steady, just like his demeanor—everything about him a far cry from the handsy, somewhat clumsy flings she’d had in the past.

  Elena broke the kiss to whisper against his neck, “I want you.”

  This man who had so vexed her and annoyed her had quickly become a source of strength and calm for her. Elena was captivated by him.

  She glanced down between them to carefully tug his erection from the loose fly of his pajama pants. Carefully, she wrapped her hand around his shaft to stroke him.

  Her hand worked a slow, teasing rhythm. Roman’s hips began to work in time to her movements. Just as she leaned down to take him into her mouth, he put a hand under her chin and lifted her to face him instead.

  “You’ve been through a lot, and you still need time to process. I don’t think right now is the right time, Elena.” He pulled back suddenly and rose, tucking his dick back into his pants as he stood.

  Elena was still in a nearly dreamy state, intoxicated by their hot and heavy make-out session. She craved his body, startling news aside, and huffed in displeasure.

  “No, Roman, please. Stay.” She pouted up at him, not able to believe that he could just leave after how far they’d just come. But, as before, and as always, Roman didn’t relent to her whims.

  “Right now isn’t the right time for this,” he told her gently, his eyes on hers. “But I promise you that, no matter what you decide to do about your mom, I’ll be there to help you.”

  Before she could argue, the door was closing behind him. A fresh wave of emotion rose from her chest and threatened to drown her in its tumult.

  She flung herself backward onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling, thoughts whirling. When her blood cooled, and Roman’s eyes left her mind, the night’s revelations hit her all over again.

  “Damn you, Dad. Damn you for what you’ve done to our family. For lying to me and Maya. For letting Mom rot in a nursing home.” Elena flipped herself sideways on the bed and hugged a pillow tightly to her chest. Then, her tears spilled freely, soaking the white pillowcase.

  She decided she would defect, after all—for real this time. Her father’s betrayal left no questions about where she belonged.

  9

  Roman

  The next morning, Roman’s alarm clock woke him from a fitful sleep. He roused from slumber only to find himself harder than he could ever remember being—after a night of dreaming about Elena.

  Taking a longer shower than usual did little enough to calm his rattled thoughts, but it made him presentable. Yet, he didn’t know what he’d do when he saw her.

  While he snagged a plate of eggs for breakfast and poured himself a mug of hot coffee—two creams and two sugars as always—he reviewed the day’s tasks only to realize that today was Saturday and his duties were practically non-existent. Viktor was home for a scheduled day with Alexandra, there were no meetings or errands that needed attention, and so Roman found himself without anyone to drive anywhere.

  Time off was usually more stressful than blissful, as Roman prided himself on his work ethic, so he decided to perform maintenance checks on the vehicles. On his way to the garage, he saw Elena seated on overstuffed leather couch in the downstairs sitting room. She seemed to be back to her normal self after the news last night; Roman watched her flip through a fashion magazine and casually sip her own morning coffee.

  He doubted her actions were as casual as they seemed. On the surface, Elena conducted herself with dignity and grace, able to seemingly push aside life’s downfalls so she could save face, but he’d seen through some of her facade the night before, and he knew that she had to be hurting. He made his way over, intending to ask her what she’d like to do about her mother. Viktor would have to be informed, of course, and an excursion would have to be approved, but Roman would gladly take the time to bring her wherever she needed to go.

  To him, she was worth the effort. If seeing her mother again would make her happy, then he’d go out of his way to make sure it happened.

  Just as Roman opened his mouth to speak, Alexandra slipped into the room and plopped down on the couch next to Elena. She was carrying a stack of magazines. The two of them began talking then, and Roman got the distinct feeling he was ab
out to interrupt something. With a shake of his head, he disappeared into the garage solo.

  A few hours later, after Roman had finished with tire pressure, oil, and other checks, he ducked back into the house. He passed the dining room on his way to the kitchen and noticed Elena seated at the large wooden table.

  Perhaps now would be a better time to catch her.

  Yet, when he poked his head in, he realized that she was in the middle of lunch with Viktor and Alexandra. He lingered for only a moment, and left before he was noticed.

  It seemed Elena was assimilating well into daily life at the Sokolov mansion, Roman noted. After last night, his uncertainty about her allegiance had faded. There was nothing in her file to indicate that she was still loyal to her family, and so far her story had checked out—including that one of Viktor’s men had transported her to the hangar in Russia—and even the ‘lie’ Roman had suspected her of had turned out to be a sort of misunderstanding, the fault of her father rather than her.

  Part of him regretted not going further last night. They had been right there, locked in an embrace, and it would have been so easy, and felt so right, to just take her on her bed. But the look of horror and betrayal in her eyes when she had learned her mother was still alive had also eaten at him. How could he make love to her when she was clearly in shock? Whether she’d realized it or not, he would have been taking advantage of her.

  No, it was better to have waited. That way, he could ensure it was the right decision for both of them instead of potentially taking advantage of Elena’s confusion. Roman was no stranger to loss or trauma, and he knew deep in his heart that stress like that often clouded judgement. The last thing he needed was to pile more remorse on poor Elena’s already full plate.

  Still, he thought, today was a new day. All it would take was one small stretch of one-on-one time with Elena to gauge her true feelings now that she had had a chance to rest and recover from the news about her mother. If only he could get her alone.

  Roman took his lunch at the front guard post near the foyer. He sat and munched on a sandwich while reviewing the security footage and visitor notes from the past few days. It felt like meaningless busywork, and probably was, but it was better than moping around the mansion with puppy dog eyes for Elena.

  When all that remained of his lunch was an empty plate and he was certain nothing was out of place in the guest logs, he made his way back down the hall toward the kitchen. On the way, he saw Elena. Alone.

  So, now was his chance.

  As Elena walked by, he nodded politely at her.

  “How are you doing today?” He asked the question softly, so that only she would hear. The notes of his voice bore significance. He hoped she’d understand what he meant..

  “I’m, uh, I’m okay.” Elena pointed down the hall, but the tension in her posture and the look in her eyes betrayed her statement. She wasn’t okay. “I need to go meet Alexandra upstairs, though. We’re doing a thing.”

  “A thing?” Roman studied her, looking for a way to get through. He understood that she likely didn’t want to talk about what he’d discovered, or what had happened last night, but it bothered him that she was trying to act normally while hurting so badly on the inside. Was she afraid of being considered weak?

  He didn’t think that of her at all.

  “Yeah, all day today we’ve been talking about going shopping, but before we do, she has a bunch of clothes to go through. Last season, this season… y’know, girl stuff.” Elena chuckled, but it was strained. “She’s been waiting for me up there for, like, forever, though. I’m a slow eater. Like a turtle.”

  Elena continued down the hall. Then she turned to speak over her shoulder at him. There was a hint of regret in her eyes, like she wanted to stay and talk but couldn’t. He longed to catch her by the wrist and beg her to say what she needed to, but he didn’t dare. Elena was her own creature, wild in a way that he couldn’t hope to conquer. If she wanted to come to him, she would. Forcing her wouldn’t help his cause. “Catch you later, chaufferone!”

  As she passed, Roman stood in place and did his best to figure out what he could do. She was hurt, and she needed help. If she couldn’t turn to Alexandra or Viktor, then he would be the man who’d hold her as she let go of her pain and listen to her woes. He’d—

  A familiar hand slapped him on the back. Viktor was right behind him. Roman felt his pulse rise in anticipation and waited for his boss to reprimand him, but instead he heard a deep chuckle.

  “And here, all this time, I thought you were a monk!” Viktor joked after Elena had turned the corner and was out of earshot. Roman spun to face him. He felt sheepish for reasons he couldn’t understand, but offered a tight-lipped smile to Viktor in an attempt to play off his awkwardness.

  “You’ve teased me for years about being ‘a monk,’ Viktor, and I’ve told you repeatedly that I am married to my work. No vow of chastity, just a vow to do my duties unhindered,” Roman said coolly.

  “Your eyes don’t lie, friend. I saw the way you were looking at Elena’s ass, and all I can say is congratulations for being a warm-blooded male like the rest of us.” Viktor’s smile widened. He clapped Roman on the back again before his hand dropped. “You look tense. Just relax. If you want to go for her, then go for her! You’re my best friend, and she’s Alexandra’s best friend. You have my well-wishes. It sounds like a match made in heaven.”

  Roman forced down a dry swallow. A match made in heaven? His suspicions had diminished, but Roman’s duty was still keeping Viktor safe. Should he tell Viktor about the discovery last night?

  No, Roman decided, there was still no evidence against Elena. She really seemed to be a defector. The business with her mother was private, something she had to work out on her own how to deal with, and Viktor didn’t need to know.

  “Thank you.” It was all Roman could think to say. He forced his smile a little wider, which seemed to placate Viktor.

  Despite their first impressions and despite Roman’s initial suspicions, maybe Elena was a good thing after all.

  10

  Elena

  Lunch, shopping, swimming, dinner—Elena found herself genuinely enjoying time with Alexandra and even Viktor now that she’d made up her mind to truly defect. No longer was she tethered to her father’s wishes, and no longer would she carry through with an assassination. The burden of guilt had been lifted, but now that Elena was alone at the conclusion of a full day, she found her heart was still heavy.

  All that day, she’d managed to lose herself in busyness, in chatting and in being free to enjoy friendship without any mission or betrayal to taint her time. But she’d also been hiding from the question of what to do now, and even how to feel—about her mother.

  After Viktor and Alexandra went to bed, Elena sat in her room staring at the ornate wallpaper, unable to think of anything except her mother. It had been almost ten years since they had seen each other. Did her mom know about her time at the university? Her life? It plagued her to know someone who had once been so close and so dear was now a relative stranger.

  She needed to go see her mother, and as soon as possible—the more she thought about, the more she saw that time was critical. Once her father figured out that Elena truly was defecting, she didn’t know what would happen. She was stationed at the Sokolov mansion only because Elena had begged Viktor to let her seek asylum there after Elena had planted the idea in her mind that she was in danger. Now that she really was in danger, what would happen? If men loyal to the Popov family descended upon the house, would Viktor see her as a source of danger and move her elsewhere?

  Somewhere far away from her mother… and far away from Roman.

  She had spent so much energy fretting over her mother that Elena realized, in this moment, she also had her father to worry about. He had not only killed one friend to frame another in an attempt to solidify his arms trade takeover, but he had gone through such great lengths to hide her mother. If he was so heartless—and for the first ti
me, Elena realized he was heartless—then her betrayal might very well endanger her life. What would Anatoly do once he found out his daughter was disloyal?

  All Elena could do was force down a lump in her throat and take a breath. The silence of the house and the emptiness of the room was haunting; suddenly, she felt incredibly alone and vulnerable.

  Roman’s words replayed in her head: I promise you that no matter what you decide to do about your mom, I’ll be there to help you.

  “Chaufferone,” Elena whispered into the empty room as her vision blurred with tears, “I hope you really can help me.”

  She rose from the bed and pulled her robe on over her satin nightgown, then padded down the quiet hall to Roman’s room. After a tiny, hesitant knock, the door opened.

  Roman took one look at her and pulled her into his arms for a tight, reassuring hug. The door closed behind him.

  “What’s going on? Are you okay?” Roman asked as he led her over to sit on his bed.

  “I just…” Elena’s mouth went dry and she couldn’t find the right words.

  “Your mother?” he asked gently.

  Elena nodded. Paused. Shook her head instead. “My father. I just… I don’t feel safe. If he could do that to his own wife, what will he do to me?” She snuggled up against Roman and rested her head against his shoulder.

  Roman shifted his weight and wrapped his arm around her instead, pressing her head against the side of his chest. He took a long, slow inhale.

  “You’re in the house of a well-respected mafia boss. There are security cameras, guards, guns, and every manner of protection you can dream of,” he answered. Elena squeezed his arm harder, more tightly to her.