by Zoe Blake
I took a bracing sip of the spiked coffee and then told her everything. And I mean everything.
A strange silence fell over the apartment when I finished. Carinna blinked a few times, then blindly reached for the whiskey bottle. She lifted it to her mouth and tilted it back, taking a large swallow before handing it to me. I took a swig as well, hoping the fiery liquid would burn away all the words I’d just uttered.
Carinna took the bottle from me. Gripping it around the neck, she said, “So he just whipped off his belt and started to—”
I buried my head in my hands. “Don’t say it.”
“And later, in your apartment, he made you swallow his—“
I groaned as I rocked my forehead back and forth on the cool countertop.
Carinna burst out laughing. “Holy shit!”
“I know.”
“Holy shit!”
I lifted my head and stared at her. “I know! Wait. Why are you saying holy shit?”
Judging by her excited reaction, she wasn’t saying holy shit in stunned moralistic judgment.
“You literally just lived a romance novel this morning.”
I furrowed my brow. “There was nothing romantic about what that man did to me.”
She lifted her arms and waved her hands in the air. “Oh, my God! How do you not see it? The instant attraction. The over-the-top arrogant alpha-hole things he said. Him spanking you. Him going down on you twice without expecting sex first or complaining. The way he pushed you against the wall and kissed you. That’s a freaking romance novel! Guys don’t do any of that sexy stuff in real life.”
I huffed. “Because they’d get thrown in jail.”
Carinna leaned in. “So, what are you going to wear for your date tonight? You should borrow my red dress. Russians love the color red.”
“Okay, for starters, you’re just making the Russians love red thing up, and second, are you crazy? I’m not meeting him for dinner.”
“Why not?”
“The fact that he’s some kind of Russian criminal super villain comes to mind… oh, and that he spanked me with his belt earlier, among other things.”
Carinna grinned. “You liked it.”
I did but I would die before admitting it, even to Carinna. “Did not!”
“Did too. Admit it, secretly you’re a dirty girl who likes it rough.” She shook her head. “It’s always the quiet prudish ones who turn out to be the real freaks in bed.”
“I’m not meeting him.”
“How are you going to avoid it? He’s coming here at eight. Somehow I don’t think he’ll be the type to knock on your door and leave after a few minutes.”
“I’m going to go on my date with Oliver. That will keep me away from my apartment long enough for Ivan to give up.”
Carinna stuck out her tongue and pretended to gag. “You’re picking Oliver over a super sexy Russian romance novel villain?”
“I’m finally officially breaking up with Oliver. I thought you’d be pleased.”
Carinna ticked off on her fingers again. “Number one, you weren’t ever actually dating that penis head, so you can’t really break off something that didn’t exist. Number two, in no universe should you be choosing dinner with Oliver over Ivan.”
Carinna meant well, but I’d made my mind up. Even if I was attracted to Ivan, he was clearly a criminal, and I had made a promise to myself never to get dragged back into that world.
I rose and adjusted the towel around my body. “I have to go. Larry is probably pissed as hell I didn’t return to the office after the open house.”
Carinna walked me to her door. “Promise me you’ll at least think about it?”
I nodded. “I promise.” The truth was, I would probably be doing little else but thinking about Ivan, but that didn’t mean I would change my mind about meeting him later.
I swung open the door and stopped short.
Carinna bumped into my back. “Why did you—”
She cut her question short as we both stared at the massive man taking up half the hallway as he stood in front of my door. He was as tall as Ivan and just as handsome and muscular. He wore a similar expensive dark suit and also had countless tattoos visible on his neck and hands.
His cold emerald eyes skimmed over me, then landed on Carinna. He slowly took in her skimpy tank top and silk pajama boxer shorts. “Which one of you is Dylan?”
I swallowed. His thick Russian accent was unmistakable. I shifted to push Carinna behind me. The man’s lips lifted in an amused smirk at my useless gesture. Both of us knew if he wanted to hurt us, he could do so easily regardless of how hard we may fight him. I lifted my chin. “I’m Dylan.”
Carinna piped up at the same time, “I’m Dylan.” She tried to step in front of me.
I blocked her. “Carinna, no.”
I had no idea if this man was with Ivan or yet another Russian coming after the money my uncle sent me, but I didn’t want Carinna involved. “I’m Dylan,” I responded with more force.
He stared past me at Carinna. “Carinna,” he repeated, as if rolling her name about on his tongue like a piece of candy. Again, his eyes skimmed over her body before shifting to me. “My name is Maxim. I’m an associate of Ivan Morozov.”
I swallowed. “What are you doing here?”
“Waiting for you.”
My heart stopped. Carinna stiffened behind me.
Before I could respond, he lifted his arm and dangled a set of keys from his fingers. “These are yours.”
I didn’t reach for it.
He smiled and turned. He placed one of the keys in the lock and twisted it before swinging my door open. He removed the key and placed it on the hook I had on the inside wall. My mouth opened as I took in the sawdust on the floor and the shiny brass doorknob and deadbolt lock on my door. “You changed my lock?”
Maxim shrugged. “Ivan was concerned for your safety.”
I just stared and repeated, “You… you changed my lock?”
Who the fuck does something like that? I cast a glance over my shoulder at Carinna, but she was too busy staring at Maxim.
He moved so quickly, I didn’t have time to resist. Maxim placed a large hand at the small of my back and pushed me over the threshold. “Ivan would not approve of you standing in the hallway in only a towel,” he admonished.
He then turned to Carinna. “You as well. You should know better than to walk around naked.” He motioned toward her apartment door with his head. “Get back inside and cover yourself.”
His words cut through my stupor. No one talked to Carinna like that and got away with it. I’d seen her make grown men cry at her bar on several occasions after they said something that crossed a line.
Carinna blinked a few times, then found her voice. Placing her fists on her hips, she said, “Who the hell do you think you are? And I am not naked!”
Maxim placed a hand high on the wall and leaned over Carinna. “I’m the man who is going to strip that skimpy piece of fabric you call an outfit off your body and spank your ass red if you don’t obey me this instant.”
Carinna gave an outraged shriek. Before she could respond further, Maxim straightened to his full height and unbuttoned his suit jacket. He then reached for the buckle on his belt. Her eyes widened before she pivoted and ran into her apartment, slamming the door shut.
Maxim turned to face me.
With a start, I slammed my door shut as well.
After a moment of pressing my ear to the door and hearing only silence, I opened it a crack to see if he had gone.
Carinna’s door opened at the same time. We made eye contact.
Then Maxim’s voice boomed from down the hallway. “Shut those doors, ladies.”
We slammed our doors shut.
I stared at the keys, innocently dangling from the nearby hook. Ivan had ordered my locks changed. This probably meant he now had a key to my apartment. I scurried over to my bedroom/hall/linen/pantry closet and grabbed one of my day-to-night black wo
rk dresses. I would hide out at work and then go straight to dinner with Oliver. I would avoid coming back to my apartment at all costs. In the meantime, I would call around for a locksmith to change the lock again.
Maybe after I stood him up for dinner, Ivan would get the message that I wanted nothing to do with him and to leave me alone.
Sure, because that’s exactly what romance novel villains do when faced with a stubborn heroine.
Chapter 10
Ivan
The security alarm was embarrassingly easy to disarm. After tossing the bag onto a side table, I reached behind me for the Beretta I had tucked into my waistband as I climbed the stairs. Taking a guess as to which door led to the master bedroom, I crossed the hall on silent feet. Listening for movement first, I turned the doorknob and waited. Silence. I opened the door just enough to slip inside. The darkening curtains were drawn tight, throwing the room into deep shadow despite the early morning sun.
There were two sleeping forms in the bed. I could see the long brunette hair and delicate features of a woman on the right; must be his pretty new wife. I slipped around to the left side of the bed. The dagger tattoo with the three drops of blood on the neck told me I had the right target.
Raising my gun, I placed the barrel against his forehead. The moment he opened his eyes, I pulled back the hammer and taunted that marriage had made him careless. “Brak sdelal tebya nebrezhnym, drug moy.”
The unmistakable sound of a striker-fired handgun slide on a Glock 17 being cocked reverberated around the silent room. I looked down to see the barrel pressed against my crotch.
Dimitri taunted me in return. “I pokhozhe, den’gi sdelali tebya neryashlivym, drug moy.”
I released the hammer on my gun and tucked it into the waistband at my lower back. Nodding, I agreed with him. “I will not argue. Getting rich has made me careless.”
Dimitri placed his Glock 17 on the nightstand and slipped from the bed. He hugged me then grasped my face. “Ivan Avelovich, damn, it’s good to see you, my friend. I can thank you in person for handling that minor problem I had when you were last in town.”
I returned the hug, slapping him hard on the back. “I could say the same, Dimitri Antonovich. And it was my pleasure to take care of such a lowlife for you. I doubt anyone missed him.”
At our exuberant greeting, the form in the bed shifted, drawing our attention.
Dimitri placed a finger to his lips and gestured for us to leave the room. We left quietly, pulling the door closed behind us. When we returned to the downstairs entryway, I snagged the bag from the table and lifted it high. “I brought breakfast.”
Dimitri pulled a black T-shirt over his head as we headed down a wide hallway. “My kitchen staff will do better than a couple of McDonald’s breakfast sandwiches.”
We entered the spacious kitchen, which was decorated in mostly white marble and brushed chrome. I tossed the bag onto the kitchen island and placed my overcoat on a nearby counter before grabbing a stool. As I opened the paper bag and retrieved a yellow wax paper-wrapped Egg McMuffin, I shook my head. “Why would you want something else? McDonald’s is the greatest American restaurant there is and now I get to eat it in America.”
I retrieved a second Egg McMuffin and slid it across the island’s marble surface toward Dimitri. After unwrapping it, he sank his teeth into the sandwich while filling the coffeepot with water. He finished his bite as he turned the coffeemaker on. Instantly, the kitchen filled with the rich aroma of freshly ground coffee beans.
I swiped a napkin across my mouth. “Since when do you sleep past dawn?”
Dimitri rubbed his eyes. “Since Emma’s nine months pregnant. She’s having a hard time sleeping. The baby keeps kicking.”
I stood and placed my hand on his shoulder. “Congratulations, my friend. Kicking is a good sign. It means you’ll have a strong son.”
Dimitri pulled the coffeepot out and placed a mug under the hot stream of liquid. He then did the same for a second mug before sliding the pot back into place. Knowing I take my coffee black, he handed me mine before saying, “Actually, I’m hoping for a girl.”
“Never thought I’d see the day when the infamous Dimitri Antonovich Kosgov, Terror of the Balkans, was married and settled down, wishing for a girl baby.”
Dimitri added sugar to his coffee before taking a sip. “If we have a son, Emma wants to name him Benedick after her favorite character in Shakespeare’s Much Ado About Nothing.” He practically spit out the name.
I grimaced in appreciation for his distaste for the name. Recalling Benedick’s love interest from the play, I asked, “And Beatrice would be preferable?”
Dimitri reached into the bag for another Egg McMuffin. “I got lucky. If it’s a girl, she wants to name her Elizabeth after the heroine in her favorite book, Pride and Prejudice.”
I snatched up the last sandwich. “You could always tell your wife no. Explain to her you are the father and the man of the house, and you will name the children.”
Dimitri laughed.
My brow furrowed. “What is so funny?”
He waved me off. “Nothing. I was just remembering back to when I was as naïve. One day you will learn, my friend. It is not so easy telling the woman you love no, especially if she is an American woman.”
I crumpled my wrapper into a tight ball and launched it across the kitchen to land in the trash can. “Marriage has made you soft. American women are simple to handle. You just need to show them you are in charge, and they must submit to your demands. I have been in the country for less than three hours and I have already done so to one American woman.”
Before Dimitri could respond, there was a bark of laughter from the doorway. I turned as a beautiful petite brunette dressed in an oversized T-shirt and pink pajama bottoms walked into the kitchen. Dimitri crossed to her and cupped her jaw with both hands. He tilted her head back and kissed her warmly. “What are you doing out of bed, moya kroshka? I thought I ordered you to rest?”
She laid her head on his shoulder. “I heard voices and got curious. Besides, I need to head into the library soon. Oh! Is that McDonald’s? Did you get me a mocha?”
I stood and held out my hand in greeting. “My apologies, I did not realize you shared my fondness for McDonald’s cuisine, or I would have brought more.”
Dimitri rolled his eyes. “Cuisine is taking it a bit far and you are not allowed caffeine.”
Emma playfully slapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t pay any attention to him. He has no appreciation for McDonald’s finer qualities.” She took my hand. “You must be the one who is confident he can handle anything an American woman throws his way?”
I bowed my head. “Ivan Avelovich Morozov, at your service. I am an old friend and business associate of your husband’s.”
She shook my hand. “I’m Emma. So, who is the lucky lady?”
I offered her my seat before taking another stool. “Her name is Dylan Prescott.”
Dimitri stood behind Emma and placed his hands on her shoulders. “Wasn’t that the person you came here to hunt down? Dylan is a woman? But that’s a man’s name.”
I shrugged. “That is what I thought as well. Thankfully, I was pleasantly wrong.” Dylan’s sweet ass, all pink and rosy from the lash of my belt, came to mind. I looked forward to seeing the same blush on her gorgeous breasts after I punished them later tonight. Yes, learning Dylan was a beautiful woman had indeed been a very pleasant surprise.
“Did she have your money?”
“Ooh. What money?” asked Emma.
Dimitri stroked her hair. “Ivan is here to recover five hundred thousand that was stolen from him during a business deal in Moscow.”
It was interesting how willing Dimitri was to share details of our business with his woman. I had never felt the need to do so with any of my women. My business was none of theirs. They had one purpose and one purpose only, to please me in bed.
I sighed with frustration. “Yes, I found the money, unsecured, spread
out on her bed if you can believe it.”
Emma tilted her head. “She was probably taking a selfie after having sex on it.”
We both gave her a blank stare.
Emma held up her palms. “Seriously? It didn’t occur to either of you that someone might want to get naked and have sex on crazy piles of cash and maybe take a few photos afterwards?”
Dimitri pulled on her hair till her head tilted all the way back. He wrapped his hand around her throat as he leaned down to give her a quick, hard kiss on the lips. “We’ll talk about that particular fantasy later.”
I rubbed my jaw as I considered Emma’s comment. That had better not fucking be the case. Dylan having sex with any other man but me was unacceptable, let alone her having sex on top of my own goddamn stolen money.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out her phone. Shaking my head at her lack of a password to secure it, I opened her photos. It was mostly pictures of the interior and exterior of houses, with the occasional photo of her with another woman with curly hair. As I continued to swipe through the photos, I came across a selfie of Dylan holding a martini and winking at the camera while wearing a provocative bright red silk halter top that showed off way too much of her generous breasts. I texted the photo to myself while making a mental note to inform her she was never to wear that top out in public again.
As I swiped through the texts, I read the exchange between her and someone named Oliver. Apparently, she had made dinner plans with him tonight. Plans she was obviously canceling since I had ordered her to be available for me.
I opened her contacts and found the only Oliver listed. I sent the contact information to myself. My schedule was packed today, but I would have time tomorrow morning to swing by his home and kill him for touching my woman. The fact that I had only just met her, and he obviously had a prior claim, was of no concern to me. He was someone who had been with her and for that, he was no longer allowed to breathe.
I had never before wanted to kill a man who had touched a woman I was with.
The fact that I wanted to now was probably only due to my delayed satisfaction. There hadn’t been time to fuck her properly, so I had forced myself to wait till later. I wasn’t accustomed to waiting for something I wanted, but Dylan would be worth it. Just thinking about her sweet wet mouth on my cock as those big beautiful brown eyes begged me to let her breathe had me hardening all over again.
