by D. A. Young
Shadows of guilt darkened his face briefly. “After what happened to your Aunt Moira, I made it my business to know everything about this town. No one arrives or leaves from the airstrip without my knowledge. Frank called the security office and relayed the information.”
Franklin Popov operated the tower at the private airstrip. He’d come to Whiskey Row as part of her father’s entourage. Older than Alexei, he’d worked until his bad knee made it impossible for physical duties, and he retired. His boss had seen to it that Frank was still able to contribute to his operation by logging and reporting arrivals and departures.
“Fine; I’ll accept a guard if it will lower your stress level. Only until they’re gone and not a minute longer.”
“Spasibo, Katya.” Alexei kissed the top of her curls and offered her his arm. “The children will be over this weekend, and we haven’t had a Russian tea in a while. I think it’s time to introduce the little ones to the ceremony, eh?”
Kat leaned against his shoulder, reveling in her father’s strength. He was her personal superhero, and she’d idolized him since her birth. No matter how busy he was at Romankov Industries, Alexei had dropped her off on the way to school and been there at the end of her day to pick her up and hear about her day. On the days that he traveled, he made sure to stop whatever he was doing, wherever in the world, to call and say good morning and goodnight, directly after dinner. That was only one of their rituals. In addition, they read together in his study, had crossword puzzle contests during Sunday brunch, and he taught her Russian as well as how to ice fish. He was her first love, and no one could ever take his place in her heart.
“Now seems like the perfect time. Thank you, Papa,” she said with deep feeling, her hold on his arm increasing.
Alexei patted her hand reassuringly, not for Katya’s sake but his own, that she was still the little girl that he used to serenade with “Somewhere Over The Rainbow”. He could detect Brammer’s scent all over her and was biting a hole through his tongue to keep from howling his despair.
Surely, the bastard didn’t have the audacity to take liberties with Katya under his roof?
His neck heated, recalling his earlier conversation with Vivienne. With their first kiss, Alexei had been ready to take her against the side of his Mercedes on a quiet San Francisco street while onlookers gawked at his boldness.
Of course, Brammer would.
The fucker.
“For what?”
“For showing me what a real man looks like. For loving Mama and never speaking ill of her to any of us. I can’t imagine what that separation was like for you. The brief glimpse I got last year was unbearable to me, and I was just an observer,” Kat shivered, remembering how he’d lit into her to mind her own business. “We never saw you crack, though. You were on point, holding everything together with dignity and class; a pillar of strength. You’ve set the bar high, so I knew not to bend, stoop, and lower my expectations for any man,” Kat replied fiercely, her throat clogging with emotions.
Alexei ducked his head humbly at her praise. “Thank you, Katya. To know that I have never failed you is the greatest gift I could ever receive.” A heavy sigh whooshed from him. “Does this mean that Holton meets your qualifications?”
“Don’t look so down, Papa!” Kat reprimanded him. “Holton doesn’t meet them.” At Alexei’s intense look, she elaborated, “He exceeds them. Be happy for me, please. In many ways, he reminds me a great deal of you.”
“Yes, I’ve heard,” he muttered. “You understand that you would not just be marrying him but his family, too, da?”
“Are they really that bad? I know there’s no love lost between him and his grandfather.”
“It is because of how Ivar Falk takes care of his family. However, he is not a family man,” Alexei answered cryptically. “He’s a self-centered bastard, caring naught for others as long as the end results are in his favor. I suspect that Holton is not blind to these faults or there currently wouldn’t be animosity between them. Your beau is cut from a different cloth to turn his back on a billion-dollar legacy.”
“As did you,” she reminded him smugly. “Give in, Papa. We’re in love and want to make things official.”
“How can you be so certain that Brammer is the one for you, Katya? That this isn’t a case of overzealous hormones needing an outlet and either one of your feelings will perish?”
It was inevitable that Kat would possess a fiery temper given her bloodline. She tried to jerk away from him, and Alexei held fast.
“Okay, I can’t decipher if you’re being condescending or serious right now, Papa!” Kat snapped. “How do I know?! Because I was raised better than that! I waited! Like you and Mama waited for each other after all these years! No one else would do for either of you! I waited for my heart to find its home! Pardon my French, but I chose not to run through ass sampling everything in sight to get to where I am! Geez, Papa! Give me some credit!”
Heaven help him.
Alexei growled his aggravation. “You’ve made your point! For the record, I’d prefer to think of my pure lovely daughter running through a nice, safe meadow instead, please.”
“My intentions are not to defy you, Papa. They’re to prepare you for the next chapter in our lives. Holton will be my husband with or without your blessings. I’d prefer not to have to choose between my spouse or you.”
Alexei glanced down at the hand underneath his, the jewel-adorned fingers he’d been wrapped around since Katerina’s birth. Last year had been the only time he’d ever experienced her disappointment, regarding expressing his feelings about Vivienne. As long as he lived, Alexei never wanted to be under that shameful spotlight again.
He spoke with exasperated affection. “You get this stubbornness from your mama. It is not one of your finer traits, in case you were wondering.”
“Pfffft!” Tossing russet coils over her shoulder, Kat miserably failed to suppress her triumphant grin. “I get it from both of you! You’re equally driven individuals determined to get your way. It shouldn’t come as a surprise that your offspring turned out precisely the same.”
Eyes heavy-lidded with resignation and mouth a compressed line, Alexei conceded defeat. “Fine, you have my blessings. I will not attempt to thwart any wedding plans. All I ask is that you learn from your mother’s and my mistakes. Marriage isn’t an institution that should be entered or taken lightly! It is a partnership yet not always fifty-fifty. Sometimes, it’s seventy-five/twenty-five. You have to be willing to put aside your objectivity and compromise for your spouse and learn from one another.”
Kat reached up and kissed his whiskered cheek affectionately. “I pray that our disagreements are few and far between. I also pray that should they occur, my husband has the wisdom to resolve them, no matter the time or place, behind study doors, accurately like my father, who makes my mother ecstatically happy. Spasibo.”
Tips of his ears blistering with mortification, Alexei managed a haughty, “Do not mention it, Katya.”
“Da, Papa,” she serenely agreed.
“As in ever again.”
“Believe me; it’ll be my pleasure.”
Chapter Eight
Holt paused in the entryway of the ballroom to say goodbye to his friends. Except, they were otherwise occupied with their women on the dance floor, underneath the mistletoe. He was amused to see a lot of hand activity at play, reminding him of their high school dances. Some subtly drifting. Others blatantly groping. Holt’s temper flared once more at being deprived the chance to have Kat in his arms, partaking in a little mischief of their own. He smirked at the knowledge that if he did, her brothers’ eyes would be trained on them instead of their wives. He pivoted away and headed for the front doors, his humor dissolving as his tongue swiped the inside of his mouth.
Kat’s uniquely addictive flavor lingered on his tongue, leaving Holt starving for more.
The pillow softness of her breasts could still be felt against his face.
Her hea
rtbeat, a musical cadence, underneath his ear.
The aromatic scent of her pussy daring him to break his oath and succumb to a taste.
Motherfucker.
He deserved a medal in sainthood.
Holt was almost to the front double doors and damned if he didn’t want to turn around. He missed Kat already. Only his sweetly submissive pyromaniac could soothe his restless soul. With her pouty mouth and sensual eyes, that’s exactly what Kat was. His baby set him ablaze, igniting an eternal inferno they’d voluntarily sacrificed themselves to let burn. Where she was concerned, Holt was a glutton, flat-out. He was doubly pissed that he wouldn’t have the opportunity to speak with Ms. Vivienne tonight. First thing tomorrow, though, he’d be back to rectify the situation.
“Surely, you’re not leaving so soon, Holton?” Vivienne’s voice reached his ears just as their butler opened the door for him. He faltered, unable to believe his change of luck. Clearly, fate had chosen to take pity on him. “Dinner has yet to be served.”
With a regretful smile, Holt faced her, and the butler closed the door again. In the older woman, he’d caught a glimpse of his future and it was golden. Kat was a carbon copy of her stunning mother, whom Holt held in the highest esteem. Vivienne had stepped up and into his best friends’ lives without hesitation and never looked back or let them fall into a chasm of despair. She was the glue that helped to put the Sullivan brothers back together, proving that brokenness could be fixed if cared for and given time to heal. Vivienne was the main reason Holt had assisted Alexei, no questions asked.
“Yes, ma’am. My family has received unexpected company. As they won’t be stayin’ long and have traveled a long way, I thought it best to pay my respects and see them on their way.”
“That’s a shame,” Vivienne answered lightly. “We haven’t had a chance to talk much tonight. How are you doing, hon?”
She knew that she was playing a dangerous game with Alexei’s tumultuous emotions concerning Kat. Nonetheless, Holt had Vivienne’s gold-star, rubber-stamped, two-thumbs-up approval. Vivienne noted the impatience in his tight eyes as he shoved a hand through his hair, frustration evident in his handsome face. Holt thrust his hands into his pockets and regarded her broodingly.
“May I be frank with you, Ms. Vivienne?”
“As subtleness is not exactly my forte, I encourage you to speak your mind, Holton. Keep it real with me always, and I’ll return the sentiment.”
“I appreciate that. I’m in love with your daughter. I know that we may seem a bit fast-tracked to those on the outside lookin’ in, but things between us didn’t develop overnight.” The blaze in his eyes made Vivienne wonder precisely how long the process had taken the lovebirds. “I’m solely invested in her happiness and consider myself blessed that my feelin’s are reciprocated. I hope you can understand and appreciate that?”
Vivienne smiled her encouragement. “I do. Katerina is a very lovable person.” Leaning forward, she whispered conspiratorially, “She gets it from my side of the family.”
Relaxing, Holt laughed along with her. “That’s not quite the word I’d use to describe Cedric, ma’am. My point is, you and your husband are equally significant to Kat, and I respect your relationships. It’s the reason I felt that it was important to not just ask his permission for her hand in marriage but yours, too.”
“And if I say no?” she taunted, purposely provoking him. Vivienne needed to see how well he took rejection, what he’d do in the face of adversity.
Although his smile remained intact, Holt’s face hardened imperceptibly. “I’m very much like your husband when it comes to the woman I love, ma’am. Please understand that your rejection won’t deter me from makin’ Katerina my wife. It’ll just make for really awkward, shitty family get-togethers in the future. Don’t worry; despite your objections, we’d still allow you to see your grandbabies,” he finished smoothly.
“You’re a persistent pain in the ass, aren’t you?” Vivienne laughed, admiring his gall. Holt smiled modestly, no shame in his game. “I’ll be damned! No wonder you drive Lex batshit crazy when it comes to his daughter! You’re just like him!”
Holt leaned his shoulder against the wall casually, not bothering to deny her observation. “I’m used to being a simple man and that’s how I liked it. There was only black and white, no shades of gray allowed. Kat has enriched my life immensely. She’s unpredictable and keeps me on my toes. Lines are blurred; everythin’ is now in Technicolor, and I’m embracin’ it all. I know that she doesn’t need my money and would rather make her way. That she will probably fight me tooth and nail about that, too. Kat isn’t afraid to stand toe-to-toe for what she believes in. She won’t hesitate to pull out her sword to fight her battles. But two swords are better than one, and I’m her shield also if needed. Your daughter is as independent as yourself, yet your husband would move heaven and earth, as would I, to prevent our loved ones from doing the things that need to be done so everyone can sleep well at night. Say yes, Ms. Vivienne; I swear to you that you will never regret it.”
Damn, he was good, Vivienne grudgingly thought. Lex was not going to be a happy camper.
“And what about your other life? Is my daughter supposed to sit with a candle in the window waiting for your return when you go traipsing around the world?”
“That’s not who I am anymore. I did assist Darby in helping to protect Jenny and Odell, but until Alexei approached me, I hadn’t been in the field for five years. My cousin Otto represents the family now and I have no intentions of going back.”
“Tell me, how did your family take that news? Are you aware of what my husband had to endure in order to be with me?” Vivienne caustically demanded. “What they tried to do to him?!”
“That world is cloaked in violence. It’s how life begins, and a fitting means to an end, they believe,” Holt replied cynically,
Vivienne’s eyes were haunted by memories. “By all intents and purposes, my husband should have been dead.”
“Except, he had too much to live for,” Holt reminded her gently.
“I don’t profess to know much about that cloak and dagger underbelly or condone it,” Vivienne sharply dismissed. “My point is, Kat is brilliant! She’s thriving and glowing, living out her dream! There aren’t enough black designers in the fashion industry, and I’m sure she’ll suffer woes, along with her wows, but Kat’s completely dedicated and willing to make sacrifices to achieve it! Do not step to her and interrupt her flow if your actions are only distractions. I’ve heard of your grandfather’s reputation. What he did to your mother was positively barbaric! What’s to stop him from doing harm to you or my daughter?”
In the span of a heartbeat, the easygoing southern gentleman vanished. Civility gone, he’d shape-shifted into a granite-faced brute whose eyes promised vengeance. His savagery was palpable, poisoning the air and suffocating Vivienne. She knew this was her formal introduction to “The Woodsman”. He tracked her unblinkingly, and it was daunting. Transfixed, Vivienne couldn’t suppress an involuntary shiver. It was if he had brought the frigid temperature outside in with his unexpected arrival. Not a shred of humanity existed in those dead eyes. This man was the kind you crossed the street or threw yourself into oncoming traffic to avoid at all costs. He radiated with a certain comfort level for killing. Vivienne highly doubted the word failure was even “The Woodsman’s” vocabulary.
“Point taken,” she conceded in a strangled voice and “Holt” reappeared.
“I refuse to jeopardize my future by losin’,” he answered gruffly. “Not when the stakes are astronomically high.”
Vivienne smiled warmly. “Congratulations, Holton Brammer. You have my blessing.”
Her smile died and was replaced with a calmness that could only be cataloged as spooky. “As well as my warning. For your sake, I hope you don’t take that lightly. Katerina is the heartbeat of our family. She is the apple of our eyes, and we adore her to a level that Dr. Klaus classifies as borderline fanatical.” Vivienn
e’s voice dropped several decibels as she advanced on him, staring him down, a huntress stalking her prey. “If you hurt her, you’ll answer not only to her father, “The Wolf” but his pack. They will be on your doorstep, thirsting for vengeance, ready to paint this quaint little town crimson with your blood. Meanwhile, I,” Vivienne’s soft laugh prickled over Holt’s scalp like icicles, “well, I won’t be satisfied until you’ve died a thousand deaths and your head is served to me on a platter with your eyes gauged out and your lying tongue severed. Am I making myself clear?”
The macabre picture she painted was disturbing, even for a seasoned killer such as he, yet Holt understood and respected it. He’d rather die than allowing harm to come Kat’s way. It would be like committing suicide. “I would expect nothing less from them, nor you, ma’am.”
Vivienne smiled, all sunshine and rainbows again. Grasping Holt by the elbow, she walked him toward the entrance. “Glad we understand each other. Welcome to the family, Holton.”
***
Sweet Baby Jesus.
“The Wolf” had nothing on “Mrs. Wolf”.
Chuckling, Holt dipped his head against the frigid wind and approached his Ford-350 that he’d parked at the end of the Romankovs’ winding driveway. He was almost there when the atmosphere shifted, making Holt pause, the hairs on his nape stirring. Covertly, he meticulously scanned his surroundings. Holt shut his eyes as awareness saturated the air. It was almost as if the crystalline snowflakes and gusts of wind rustling through the pine trees suspended for an instant, permitting Holt to catch the slight shift of boots crunching the snow-covered gravel to his right, on the other side of his truck, hidden from his view. The crisp squall carried the faintest trace of lemon directly to his nose, and he relaxed immediately.
“Merada, you’re like the neighborhood busybody peekin’ out from behind your curtain!” Holt jeered. “You might as well have brought a marchin’ band to announce your arrival. I can smell the disinfectant you clean your shop with. How in the hell did you ever get recruited?”
