I huffed out a lazy sigh. "Fine. I suppose I better go take a shower before I wind up being late."
Valentin grinned at me, shifting just slightly, but it was enough to make his cock start to slip out of me. "You could go as you are. Smelling of sex and me, and everyone will know you're accounted for."
I rolled my eyes. "I'm sure everyone would thank me after a full day of getting sweaty."
"Don't get too sweaty."
I kissed him squarely on the lips, nibbling at the spill of his lower one, still reluctant to rejoin the real world, even though we both knew it had to be done. Being here with him was perfect and if I could, I'd have stayed right here, but he was right, the day wasn't going to stop for either of us.
"Okay. I'll save that for you."
Valentin nodded, finally pulling away from me and standing up. Like a gentleman, he retrieved my clothes and handed them to me so that I could get dressed, and I watched with some regret as he pulled his own sports clothes back on.
Now that I knew what he looked like underneath his clothes, I was never going to be able to get enough of him. Just the thought of his muscled torso and strong thighs had me longing to undress him all over again.
I felt like a naughty school girl with a secret when we were both dressed again, and he pulled me in for another drawn out kiss before I finally pulled away.
"I will meet you at the theatre."
"You don't have to do that. I'll be fine."
"What if I want to?"
"Well, I suppose I can't stop you. But I'll need to go home and get changed properly and take a shower, wash off the day before I come to yours anyway."
"You could do all that at my place."
I let out a sigh, putting my hand on my hip. "And then where'd all the mystery go? No, don't be silly. I'll sort myself out and then come by. Tonight."
Valentin nodded, his fingers still twined with mine as I stepped back to go out of the studio door and back towards the corridor. He held onto my hand until the very last minute when our fingertips finally slipped apart.
"Tonight."
I could hardly wait. Maybe this wasn't some kind of fairy tale romance, but it felt so perfect to me.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Valentin
The day dragged far too slowly, each passing hour reminding me of how long it would be until Mia's work day was done and she would come knocking on the door of my apartment.
Patience was beyond me. I was hungry for her, couldn't wait until the very end of the day just to see her again, but thankfully I didn't have to. Even last minute, it was easy enough for me to get seats to the evening's performance, just as long as I was prepared to pay enough rubles for them, and I had no issue at all with doing that.
In fact, I booked an entire box for myself so that I wouldn't be tempted to throttle anybody in my proximity who might have been enjoying the sight of Mia in her ballet dress and dance tights a little too much. I didn't trust myself not to cause some kind of incident over that, and the last thing I needed was any more attention on my activities.
The performance itself faded into insignificance while I watched Mia dance on that stage, as graceful and strong and beautiful as any woman ever could have been. I barely noticed the solos or the pas de deux; my attention was fixed on her, and her alone and I peered through the tiny, fiddly little opera glasses, growling low any time any of the other girls dared to position themselves in front of her.
She was better than all of them put together and she shouldn't have to be in their shadow. If I had my way, I would make sure she had nothing but center stage because she was so worthy of it. One day I would make her see that she was doing herself no favors in trying to ape them.
I nearly snapped the gilded edge of the box any time any of the male dancers dared to so much as touch her hand. When one of them lifted her up by her perfect waist, I vowed to end his days. It didn't matter what the choreography said, she was mine and no one but me should ever put their hands on her.
On stage, she seemed ethereal, and untouchable, like someone I could have made up. But I knew first hand that she was strong and real. Otherwise she could have been some symptom of my crisis over stepping up to take the lead. Nothing more than a mirage of what I truly craved.
She was a mystery to me; why should a woman like her, so pure and perfectly on the cusp of all life had to offer want a man like me who was so used to manipulations and deceptions and all the machinations and ruthlessness it took to mobilize a criminal organization as successful as the Bratva? I didn't understand it, but I trusted that she felt the same way I did. I had to. I would never believe that this obsession with her was all a one sided fantasy and she was simply having a good time. The way she reacted to my every touch was far too true.
What we had between us was too real for me to have made up. Our connection was undeniable and bone-deep and she had wormed her way underneath my skin in nothing more than a handful of glances and a few gifted smiles. Making her mine, shooting my seed deep inside her had only cemented that bond.
I downed the dregs of my champagne, on my feet as soon as the curtain fell and I exited the private box through the heavy velvet curtain.
Viktor had been waiting outside the entrance to the box, ever the professional, although I had told him he was perfectly welcome to join me for the performance in one of the empty seats. After all, I had paid for them. But he declined and from the effort he took not to wrinkle his nose, I got the impression that an evening at the ballet was not on his list of ways to have a good time.
With a different upbringing, I likely would have agreed with him. Except for Mia. Whether or not I enjoyed the ballet, I would have come every single night just to watch her.
He fell into step behind me as I jogged down the shallow, red-carpeted steps, slipping between elegantly dressed Muscovites out in their evening finery and making my excuses as I pushed my way past them. With my size and my reputation in this city, in this theater slipping discreetly by was no option. Even so, there was nobody who could have made me break my stride.
My destination was backstage. The men who controlled the comings and goings on the other side of the swing doors that separated the audience from the dancers let me through with a muted nod, and I headed straight for the green room, which the dancers would have to come through when they came out of the dressing room. The only thing I had on my mind was seeing Mia.
Compared to the spill of the elegant elite hurrying to queue for their fur coats, backstage was behind the mask. Here, the pine struts holding up the scenery were exposed and the floor was scuffed and scraped from having so many things and so many people moved over it. The corridor was lined with costume rails and I knew enough of a performance to know that most of the ballet shoes worn this evening would be replaced by the next night's show.
Viktor shot me a look and I realized that I was pacing, walking up and down along the wall of pictures of all the famous ballet stars the theater had hosted over the years. "What?"
His smile hitched one corner of his mouth in a barely noticeable tilt. "You are going to wear a hole in the floor."
I let out a grumble, forcing my feet to still and shoving my hands into my pockets. "It's alright for you. You have already married the woman you love."
His smile twitched broader and he reached to pat me on the shoulder. "She will be out soon."
Without another word, he folded his arms across his chest and stood still, like he'd simply commanded his body to power down for the wait. He might not have been in the military, but it was clear to me that Viktor's time inside one of our country's most notorious prisons had taught him a thing or two about conserving energy.
Just then, I didn't have the same self control. It was impossible to be rid of the energy coursing through me until I had Mia in my arms again.
The doors to the dressing rooms opened, and I stepped back as a wave of laughter rushed towards me along with the first gaggle of dancers to be changed.
Mia w
as not one of them.
I looked at my watch. "Five minutes, and I'm going through."
Viktor shrugged one shoulder. "Whatever you think is best."
It wasn't that I thought something had happened to her. How could it have? The theater was safe enough, and she was surrounded by people. There had only been a handful of minutes between her last appearance on the stage and now. But I was impatient to see her. What I really wanted was to peel the white dance tights off her long legs and strip her costume off with my own two hands. But I knew I couldn't do that. There would be too many of her colleagues around to see and I was not going to give Viktor a show, even though I knew he only had eyes for his wife.
The longer she took, the longer it was before I could take her home and plunge my ever-ready cock deep inside her. I'd spent the entire performance half-hard just watching her, and it was only sheer willpower now that had my libido in check. She was lethal to my self-control, and I couldn't hold myself back much longer.
The doors opened again, and this time the laughter was unmistakably Mia's. I knew that before I even saw her, and my smile rose in anticipation of seeing her.
But my expression froze as soon as she walked through the door. Ice went right through me as Timoshenko looked up with his cool grey eyes, killing my pent up arousal entirely.
"Good evening Valentin!" I thought he looked like a vampire, with his canines just a little too pointed and his skin wrinkled and grey. He had Mia's arm wrapped around his, and every atom in my body wanted to tear her away from him.
Behind me, I felt rather than saw Viktor shift so that he had my back. There was only one way for me to take this: Timoshenko being here was a blatant taunt. He was flaunting his knowledge of my life and the fact that he could take what I valued and snuff it out just as easily as I was threatening to snatch his position out from under him. But I would never let him touch so much as a hair on Mia's head.
I lunged forward, ready to put my fist through his face, to throttle the wheezing life out of him and watch his eyes pop clean out of his skull, but Viktor grabbed my arm, rooting me to the spot and his hand settled on the back of my neck, squeezing solidly enough to soothe me. "He will have a gun, and he will have backup," Viktor hissed into my ear, and it was only the knowledge that he was correct that made me force to ease the tension from my body.
It took all the control I had to take a deep breath and step back.
"What are you doing here?" I clenched my fists at my sides and my eyes burnt into him.
"I thought I would meet this lovely young lady. I have been hearing so much about her. She is such a beautiful dancer."
Mia laughed bashfully, and I had to swallow hard to summon a smile to my face. I disliked him being here. I disliked him touching her, making her smile. I disliked the uncertainty edging into her expression when she met my eyes, as though she was only just starting to realize that she should have been afraid.
"Is that right?"
How dare he even look at her? How dare he come here and threaten her with his very presence? Every part of me wanted to eviscerate him.
Timoshenko nodded, far more blandly than could be trusted, very obviously ignoring the lunge towards him that I had made; he had nothing to be frightened of, because he had me by the balls.
"Of course. When I heard we had a new, American dancer joining the company, and you were sending flowers every evening, I knew she had to be something special. She has proved that with every performance I have seen; I can quite see how you are so taken. Us patrons of the theater have to keep an eye on all the changes going on in our little spheres so that we can… ensure the best long term future for the organization. Don't you think, Valentin?"
I forced another smile, irritated by the amusement evident in Timoshenko's eyes and this double conversation he was having with me. Mia may have been oblivious to the danger she could have been in, but the old man was fully aware of the point he was making.
The only reason Timoshenko had any involvement with the theater at all was because I had suggested that it would look good for him to be involved in the culture of our city, and that there would be tax breaks involved, according to our money man, Roman. As far as I knew, the man had never attended a single performance before now.
He might have been on his way out, but he still had contacts enough to find out about the woman who had caught my interest, he still had the contacts to walk in here without being stopped, and he still had the charm to make her think that he was nothing more than a kindly old man. He was still a force to be reckoned with, if he chose to be, and by doing this, he'd made it quite clear that he wasn't going to back down gracefully.
I slid my arm around Mia's waist, drawing her possessively to me, and she fit perfectly against my chest. Her eyes were wide and edged with confusion as she looked up to meet mine.
"Yakov has been telling me all about Moscow."
"How kind of him."
This settled everything. After today there was no more sentimentality. If Timoshenko would come here and threaten my happiness so easily, then I wouldn't hesitate in ripping the Bratva from him by force. Mia was worth so much more than any idea I had of keeping the old man's reputation intact without violence, and if it had to end in a bloody mess, then so be it. Better him than her.
"We should go for a drink," Yakov suggested, and Mia turned to me again, an uncertain smile on her face.
"Oh yes, let's go for a drink. Yakov was telling me about this little bar that used to be just around the corner-"
"I don't think so, Mia. It's late." I knew exactly the place he meant; one of the first bars in the city he'd run protection for, so he tells it. The place he romanced my mother.
"Oh. Okay."
I felt Mia's frown cut into me - disappointing her practically caused me pain, when I wanted nothing more than to give her the world on a platter.
"We do have dinner plans."
"That is a shame, Valentin. We haven't sat down to drink together for a long time. And we have so many things in common, it seems."
I gritted my teeth. What was he playing at? This was a dangerous game of things being left unsaid, and underneath it all was just a question of which one of us was in control.
"The business keeps me very busy, Yakov. I'm surprised you have the time to visit any bars at all. Perhaps this explains a lot."
Timoshenko barked a laugh. "Always so very busy, Valentin. Haven't you realized by now that it is the boss's job to delegate all these things. How can you expect to be a boss when you are so busy running around that you cannot see the bigger picture?"
I shook my head, still eyeballing him, my fingers tighter on Mia's arm then I truly intended and she winced under her breath. I had to struggle to loosen my grip, because I didn't want to let go. "I can see the bigger picture plenty well enough. There is delegation and then there is dereliction."
The old man shrugged. "Your mother always made time for the things in life that she enjoyed."
I narrowed my eyes. "Oh, now you talk about my mother?"
His lips quirked into a sly grin and he tilted his head again. "Lately, I am reminded of her." He turned his full attention back to Mia, obvious in letting his eyes slowly drift down her body. Her body, that only I should ever be allowed to look at. He had my blood simmering all over again and I was ready to rip him limb from limb. "She was a wonderful dancer too, my dear."
With that, he took Mia's hand in his and dipped down to kiss her knuckles like she was a princess and he was the gentleman he hadn't been in years. Mia flushed, laughing awkwardly as he stepped back, and I could see her tug her hand away.
For the first time I truly wanted to kill him on a deep and visceral level. Mia was no toy to be played with, and I wouldn't have him use her to get to me.
"Both of you are very welcome at my dacha, any weekend that you want to come. Valentin, we should not make a habit of being such strangers when we work so closely together."
Timoshenko turned to leave, and Viktor pr
owled after him to the door of the green room, yanking it open for him and making sure, with a whispered word to the building's own security detail that he was escorted directly out.
Mia looked up at me. "What was that about?"
I shook my head, still holding her close to my side. "Yakov Timoshenko is my boss."
The rise of Mia's brow told me she hadn't known that, even if the girls had filled her in on my role in the Bratva, and my intended future. "I thought - when they said someone wanted to see me, I thought it was you. And then I realized it wasn't, but Eva said he's just a patron. And he was… sweet to me. Maybe he really just likes to get to know the new dancers?"
"No, Mia. Wake up. This was him showing me that he can touch what is important to me." I let out a growl. "This won't happen again. I will end this."
"Wait, Valentin… he didn't threaten me. What are you talking about? He wanted to take us for a drink, and he invited us to - what's a dacha?"
"A weekend home. We are not going. He didn't have to do anything to you. Just being here with you was enough for him to make his point."
From the way she wrinkled her nose I could tell that she didn't agree with me, but this was the world I knew, and it wasn't even close to being as innocent as the one that she was used to. "I think he cares about you, Valentin."
I let out a laugh. "I used to think he cared about my mother too. Don't be naive, Mia. He's done things you can't even imagine."
When she pulled her arm away from mine, I knew I'd said the wrong thing, but what could I do? I had to make her understand that the man was a snake for her own safety.
"Maybe we should take a rain check on dinner. Suddenly I'm not all that hungry."
"Mia, wait."
"I'm not naive, Valentin! Believe what you like, but I know people, and… I think you're reading him wrong, I really do."
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