Not only were all of Vaughn’s senses heightened as a dragon shifter, but even in human form he could move at lightning speed. The fact that he had done so now had obviously not only startled Anastasia, but increased the fear he could detect in a fresh release of her pheromones.
He gave what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “One of my strides is equal to three of yours.”
“Yes, but… Never mind.” She gave a firm shake of her head. “I usually have breakfast at seven o’clock and leave for the theater by seven thirty and then rehearse for the rest of the morning.”
Vaughn had already made it his business to know all of her schedules for each day. “I’ll be ready to accompany you.”
She looked undecided. “Are you sure you’re going to be comfortable sleeping on the couch?”
With any other woman—and during a different lifetime that didn’t include knowing Anastasia was his fated mate—Vaughn would have done all that he could to charm himself into sharing her bed. But he was no longer the lighthearted charmer he’d been three months ago, after having almost died because of a stupid flirtation with the woman whose only intention had been to seduce and then kill him.
“I’ll be fine once I’ve had some fresh bedding sent up by hotel housekeeping,” he reassured huskily.
Those purple-blue eyes looked up at him through lashes the same pale gold as her hair. “I’ll wish you goodnight then.”
“You too.” He made sure there was a gentle smile on his lips as he watched her go.
Which was when his smile faded.
He had found his mate, which was reason for jubilation, but some unknown man was sending her flowers, along with messages on cards that were becoming more and more intense. Vaughn definitely shared Antipov’s concern about that.
He picked up the latest card. The writing was block capitals, with no distinguishing variations. The words—dear God, if anything should happen to Vaughn’s mate, he knew he was capable of becoming feral and allowing his dragon to burn everything within their vicinity.
Those vicious words were a complete contradiction to the pure perfection of the accompanying lily.
As perfect as Anastasia.
Mine.
Yes, Anastasia was their mate, but obviously, someone else wanted to harm her, if only by frightening her.
That person would be eliminated.
In the meantime, after another scowling glance at the too-small couch, Vaughn put through the call he should have made earlier but had decided to wait to do so until he had decided whether or not he would be staying in London. His presence here was no longer in question, but an imperative.
“Volkov,” a cold voice answered Vaughn’s call.
Not exactly encouraging, but it was after midnight. Vaughn had also already been warned that Nikolai Volkov was a terse bastard. The other man was aged in his forties and also second in command to Gregori Markovic, the head of the London bratva. Volkov was also said to have little patience for anyone other than his employer and his family, and his own wife and children.
Vaughn decided to ignore Volkov’s terseness as he introduced himself and explained the call was a courtesy only, because he had entered and remained in the Markovic territory in order to protect Anastasia Chenkova.
“So you’re one of the elusive Romanov brothers,” the other man drawled once the explanation was over—minus the fact that the woman Vaughn was here to protect was also his mate.
Vaughn tensed warily. “You’ve heard of us?”
“Our mutual friends the Pendragons might have mentioned you once or twice.”
Vaughn’s tension didn’t ease in the slightest. Random humans weren’t allowed to know of the existence of dragon shifters. “In connection with what?”
The other man gave a snort. “In connection with the fact that you’re the only other family of dragon shifters in the world that they’re aware of.”
It was inevitable that humans occasionally learned of their existence, but the matter was easily dealt with by using compulsion and instructing them to forget all memory of that knowledge.
Why the fuck hadn’t anyone used that compulsion on Volkov?
“Because I would have been seriously pissed if they had,” the other man dryly answered the question Vaughn had obviously asked out loud. “My boss would too.”
“Gregori Markovic also knows of our existence?”
“The Pendragon family are associates as well as friends,” Volkov dismissed. “Look, it’s also after midnight, and my kids are going to be up at six o’clock in the morning, whether I’ve had enough sleep or not. I suggest we continue this conversation tomorrow. Oh, and Romanov…”
“Yes?” Vaughn bit out, still slightly shaken at this human’s knowledge of not one dragon shifter family but two.
“Try not to kill anyone before then. Gregori wouldn’t like it, and neither would I.” With that veiled threat, Volkov ended the call.
Leaving Vaughn with the uneasy feeling that Nikolai Volkov was a very dangerous man.
A very dangerous human who knew about dragon shifters.
Anastasia was already awake when her alarm went off as usual at six forty-five the following morning.
Not because the bed was any less comfortable than it had been for the past three nights, and so prevented her from sleeping.
Or that there had been any unwanted noises within the hotel. They were eight floors up from the piano bar on the ground floor, so that wasn’t a problem either.
Nor was it hearing Vaughn’s voice as he apparently spoke to someone on the telephone the evening before. Probably housekeeping, as he had mentioned he would before she went to bed.
It hadn’t been because she wasn’t tired either. Once the adrenaline wore off at the end of a performance, she always felt utterly exhausted.
No, the reason for her restless night’s sleep had been, as she feared, the knowledge that Vaughn Romanov was in the hotel suite with her.
It really was as close as Anastasia had ever come to spending the night with a man. Albeit in separate rooms.
She usually spent her leisure time reading about romance in the books she downloaded online but every time she thought of Vaughn’s handsome face, dominated by those pale green eyes, along with his wide shoulders and muscular chest, a delicious shiver of physical awareness ran down the length of her spine before settling hotly between her thighs. Her nipples also pebbled to aching hardness.
Having met him, she might have fantasized about a man like Vaughn anyway, with his striking good looks and animal magnetism. But knowing he was only in the adjoining room made her physical response to him all the more immediate.
It really had been like receiving a small electric shock when they shook hands the previous evening. A mutual awareness that had been reflected in the intensity of his pale eyes.
As a consequence, her night’s sleep had been a restless one. Hearing Vaughn in the bathroom half an hour ago, as he took a shower, was a stark reminder of his presence in the suite.
The bathroom was neat and tidy when she finally dragged herself in there, the only evidence of Vaughn’s having showered first being the warmth of the room and a wet towel hanging on the rack to dry.
Ignoring that evidence, Anastasia rushed through her own shower before going back to her bedroom to dress and then through to the sitting room.
Again, this room looked exactly the same as it had the night before, except there was now neatly folded bedding at one end of the couch where Vaughn had slept.
Had he thought about her before he fell asleep in the same way she couldn’t stop thinking about him? If he had, what had those thoughts been?
“Good morning.”
Anastasia swung round so fast at the now-familiar sound of Vaughn’s voice, she became slightly light-headed.
A reaction that certainly wasn’t lessened by his appearance in a black T-shirt that fit perfectly across his wide chest and shoulders, leaving his arms bare, revealing deeply defined muscles. Black jeans
clung to the length of his long and equally muscular legs. His dark blond hair looked damp as it spread silkily across his shoulders and down his back.
Vaughn had looked devastatingly attractive the evening before in the black evening clothes, but he was even more so in this casual clothing. His clean woodsy smell was as potent as yesterday, and Anastasia’s fingers itched to touch that long and silky hair several shades darker than her own. Preferably when his mouth was plundering hers and her body was curved intimately against all those bulging muscles.
What the…?
“Everything okay?”
She refocused to find Vaughn looking at her with concern. “Fine,” she answered jerkily.
“Breakfast was delivered five minutes ago.” He indicated the food laid out on the table near the window ready for the two of them to eat.
There was a lot more food than Anastasia usually ordered. Normally, she had an egg-white omelet and wholegrain toast, with a bowl of fresh fruit and a glass of orange juice. The combination gave her the energy necessary for a morning of rehearsal.
Today, along with her four healthy items, was a plate with a huge pile of bacon and sausages on it, as well as mushrooms, tomatoes, and scrambled eggs. There was also a whole rack of white toast, butter, and marmalade. Goodness knows what room service had made of all this extra food. Irina usually ate even more sparingly than Anastasia.
The smell of coffee coming from the stainless-steel pot in the center of the table was enough to make her mouth water.
“Like some?” Vaughn held up the pot up once she’d taken her seat opposite him at the table.
Anastasia would kill to be able to drink coffee in the morning. Unfortunately, it wasn’t conducive to the grueling hours of practice which always followed.
“No, thanks.” She sipped her orange juice instead, looking everywhere but at the man who was now seated opposite her. “Did you sleep well?” Unlike her, he looked relaxed and well-rested.
Amusement curved his lips. “I slept.”
Anastasia winced. “If you intend to keep sleeping in here—”
“I do.”
“Then you should take the bedroom, and I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“Absolutely not.” All humor had faded from Vaughn’s expression as he glared across the table at her. “Your comfort, all of your comfort, is now my prime—my only—concern.”
She wasn’t quite sure where Vaughn’s ultra-growly voice had come from, but it had definitely lowered in pitch until it sounded like a growl. That depth of feeling was mirrored in his narrowed gaze.
She gave a nervous laugh at being the sole focus of all that intensity. “I’m sure you say that to all your female clients.”
The air in the room seemed to still for several heartbeats, Vaughn’s nostrils flaring as he rose smoothly to his feet and moved around the table to where Anastasia now looked up at him with wide and apprehensive eyes.
Her alarm grew as he stepped forward to take hold of her hands in his much larger ones and easily pulled her to her feet. The first touch of his skin against hers resulted in the same tingling awareness as yesterday, and they were now standing so close that Anastasia could feel the heat of Vaughn’s body through her clothing. She had to tilt her head back to be able to look at him.
His brow was lowered.
Eyes glowing.
Mouth unsmiling.
The latter coming closer…
Chapter Five
Vaughn’s senses had become filled with the sight, sound, and perfume of his fated mate the moment she entered the sitting room.
She looked beautiful in fitted black leggings and an overlarge T-shirt, with her long hair secured in a single braid down the slenderness of her spine. Her face was completely bare of makeup.
The softness of her voice was like music to his ears.
Every breath he took was filled with her unique perfume of honeysuckle and oranges.
His cock, having remained half erect all night because he was so aware of his mate’s close proximity, now hardened to full arousal.
That she had dared to question his devotion to her happiness left him with no choice but to show her how important she had become to him within a matter of seconds of their first meeting. He released her hands to place his arms about her waist and pull her closer still, his cock now a throbbing ache.
“Vaughn…?” She placed her palms on his chest as she looked up at him searchingly.
“Understand that I will always keep you safe.” His voice was once again a low growl. His dragon was as unhappy about Anastasia’s dismissal of their concern for her as Vaughn was.
She looked startled. “Always?”
“You’re mine, Anastasia.” His arms tightened. “Now, tomorrow, forever.”
Her bewilderment deepened. “I don’t understand…”
Of course she didn’t, nor would she until Vaughn was able to confide everything to her about dragon shifters and their fated mates. He could do that now, of course, but he doubted she would be receptive to it. Her next words confirmed it.
“Let me go.” The push she gave against his chest only succeeded in tilting her torso back and pushing her hips against the hardness of his cock. “Vaughn, please.” Her beautiful purple-rimmed blue eyes glistened with unshed tears as she looked up at him.
Tears that Vaughn knew he had caused with his caveman behavior. He drew in several deep breaths as he reminded himself that as far as Anastasia was concerned, the two of them had only met yesterday. Nor, being human, did she yet feel the same fated connection to him as he and his dragon did to her.
Even so, the lure of her parted and plump pink lips begged for him to kiss her. To take a taste of her. To ravage her.
Claim her and mate her, his dragon growled his approval.
Much as Vaughn tried to fight that need, his resolve began to crumble the longer the tempting heat of her body remained pressed against the hardness of his. His senses were already saturated with her unique perfume.
He didn’t know what would have happened next if the tension hadn’t been broken by the sound of a fist knocking firmly on the outer door of the hotel suite.
Vaughn was unsure whether to get down on his knees and thank their visitor for the interruption to what would have been a terrible mistake on his part. Because he doubted, once he’d had that taste of Anastasia, that he would have been able to stop himself from taking all of her.
Or whether to rip the intruder apart, as his dragon longed for him to do.
Either way, Vaughn had been denied his first taste of Anastasia’s delicious lips.
For that alone, their visitor deserved to feel the sharp edge of Vaughn’s tongue.
“One of us should answer that,” Anastasia prompted as a second knock sounded on the door, this time accompanied by a man’s voice.
She wasn’t able to discern the actual words, but the tone seemed deep and authoritative.
“God damn it,” Vaughn muttered as he released her before striding out into the hallway.
Anastasia’s knees almost gave way after Vaughn released her and she was no longer held in thrall by the raw intensity of his emotions, both physically and emotionally.
There had been no mistaking Vaughn’s arousal for anything other than what it was. And had Vaughn really just said that she was his? Now, tomorrow, forever?
Her experience with romance really was limited to reading about it in books. The ballet, rehearsing and performing, had always taken up so much of her life, there was little time for actual personal relationships.
Although Irina seemed to manage both, she reminded herself ruefully.
But Irina’s circumstances weren’t the same as hers. The other woman was the only child of indulgent parents. Being successful at the ballet wasn’t imperative to her like it was to Anastasia.
She was an orphan, with absolutely no family that she knew of. All she had in her life was her success in the ballet. She had never been willing to jeopardize that with a romantic relations
hip, having decided there would be time for that once she was too old to remain prima ballerina.
Vaughn Romanov hadn’t seemed like the sort of man willing to wait for anything.
He wanted her now.
Did she want him in the same way?
He was undoubtedly a handsome man with an unmistakable sexual magnetism. One that called to her on a primitive level she hadn’t even known existed inside her.
She had wanted him to kiss her just now. Had wanted more than his kisses.
She had no idea what was happening to her, but something was stirring deep inside her. Something hitherto unknown to her. A deep and pulsing attraction she had no control over and which scared her a little.
“I am so pleased to meet you, Miss Chenkova,” an unfamiliar voice greeted.
Anastasia turned to face the man striding into the room as if he owned it. He was probably aged in his early forties, with overlong hair as fair as her own and the most piercing gray eyes she had ever seen set in a face of harsh and yet somehow beautiful angles. Despite the earliness of the hour, he was dressed in a formal bespoke dark gray suit with a gray silk shirt and tie.
“Nikolai Volkov,” he introduced himself as he held out his hand.
Nikolai Volkov?
The man known in Russia as The Wolf? And not only because his surname, Volkov, meant wolf.
Anastasia’s world might consist of the ballet, but even she had heard of this man before. His name was whispered over all of Russia with both fear and awe for the man who was Russian by birth but who lived in London and had been second in command to the head of the London bratva for many years.
Which begged the question, how did Vaughn know the other man? Were the Romanovs, as she had suspected, involved with the Russian bratva?
Vaughn’s expression, when Anastasia glanced at him, was one of displeasure as he watched the other man through narrowed lids. Because he didn’t want the other man here, or because he guessed he might appear guilty by association?
“My wife and I saw you perform just two nights ago,” the Russian Wolf continued pleasantly as they shook hands. “We both enjoyed it very much.”
Vaughn (Russian Dragon Heat 2) Page 4