Harper Hall Investigations Complete Series

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Harper Hall Investigations Complete Series Page 89

by Isabel Jordan


  Her eyes widened. “Fuck, that accent’s hot, too.” She turned to Violet. “I’ll bet you can come just listening to that.”

  Jeff nudged his glasses up with his index finger and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You know I’m standing right here, don’t you?”

  Dalia leaned over to pinch his cheek, but missed and ended up poking him in the nose with her thumb. “Love you, baby,” she slurred, then made sloppy-sounding kissing noises in his direction.

  Somehow, Violet managed to guide her inebriated sister to their table and pour her into a chair. Jeff went back to the bar to fetch his wife a much-needed cup of coffee. Violet smiled her thanks up at Nikolai when he pulled her chair out for her.

  And there it was again. That simultaneous punch to the gut and balls that Violet managed with nothing more than a word or smile in his direction. How the hell did she do that?

  “Thank you for coming with me to this thing,” she said as he took a seat next to her. “I know you must be miserable.”

  Don’t do it, he told himself. Don’t be an idiot.

  Nikolai leaned closer and was gratified by her quick intake of breath. At least he wasn’t alone in this…attraction they had. He eased a curl that had escaped her complicated up-do behind her ear, letting his fingertips trail across her cheekbone.

  “I’m exactly where I want to be,” he whispered in her ear.

  She pulled back, and the look she shot him was so full of want it made him lightheaded. (Having all of your blood head south of your belt could do that to a man.)

  Thank God for long tablecloths, he thought wryly. At least no one else would realize what a masochistic dumbass he was for failing ass-over-elbow for a woman who may never be ready to love him back, or even let him see the real her he knew she kept so closely guarded.

  So apparently it was too late for him to avoid being an idiot.

  Pity that.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Over the next hour, Nikolai was a study in patience and tolerance.

  He listened politely to Jeff’s rambling stories about his co-workers at the elementary school where he taught math. He didn’t get irritated when Dalia took every possible opportunity to grope him (“Oh, you’ve got a piece of schmutz on your jacket. Here, let me rub that off for you. Ha! Rub that off. See what I did there? It’s a play on ‘rub one off’?”) He made sure everyone at the table—even the stiffs—had fresh drinks whenever they wanted them. And he did it all while looking fuck hot and surreptitiously surveying the room for possible threats to her safety.

  In short, Nikolai was the perfect wedding date. It was like he was going for some kind of wedding date sainthood, as a matter of fact.

  Violet leaned toward him and asked, “Any signs of trouble?”

  He rested an arm on the back of her chair and shook his head. “None,” he said quietly. “Except your mother keeps giving me really strange looks I can’t interpret.”

  Violet raised a brow. “I’m in my early thirties, unmarried, and I show up at a wedding with a guy who looks like you. There’s nothing to interpret. To her, you’re walking sperm, heaven-sent to give her grandchildren.” She shrugged. “Sorry.”

  He should just be happy her mother had been too busy helping the event coordinators make sure everything was perfect for Rose’s reception to spend too much time at their table. Violet could only imagine the kinds of embarrassing questions her mother would grill them with.

  His answering smirk would’ve weakened her knees if she’d been standing. “What about you, kotehok? Tell me the truth. The whole stalking and attempted murder was a ploy to get me where you really want me, wasn’t it?”

  The giggle that escaped her was so girlish and embarrassing she clapped a hand over her mouth to keep it from getting any worse.

  Nikolai’s pupils dilated as he leaned in closer to her and pulled her hand away from her mouth. He pressed a kiss to her knuckles and the brush of his breath across her skin nearly set her panties on fire.

  Holy. Hell.

  “I’ve been waiting a lifetime for you to give me that laugh,” he said gruffly. “Don’t deny me.”

  I’m done denying you anything.

  The words wanted to roll off her tongue, but Violet held them back out of sheer force of habit. What was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she just let go for once and give up the calm, cool façade? Here was this beautiful man, looking at her with his heart in his eyes, being nothing but open and honest with her, even though she knew it was hard for him, and she just couldn’t let herself tell him how she felt about…well, anything, really. It was ridiculous.

  She swallowed hard. “Nikolai, I—”

  Whatever Violet was going to say was cut off by a shriek she knew all too well. And this time it wasn’t Dalia’s happy-go-lucky, drunken shriek. Nope. It was way worse than that.

  “Violet!”

  Taking a deep, fortifying breath, Violet stood and turned to face her other sister, but pulled up short when Rose shoved what looked to be a three-carat, princess-cut diamond solitaire and wedding band under her nose.

  “Isn’t it just gorgeous?” Rose said, waving her fingers under Violet’s nose. “Doesn’t Darren just have the most exquisite taste?”

  “Not from where I’m sitting,” Nikolai muttered under his breath.

  Violet nearly bit her tongue in half trying to hold back the laughter that threatened to bubble up out of her throat. Fortunately (and not surprisingly), Rose was oblivious as she continued to flaunt her ring.

  “Yes, Rose,” Violet agreed dutifully. “It’s a lovely ring. The ceremony was perfect as well. Congratulations.”

  Rose stopped waving her ring around and laid a hand on Violet’s shoulder. “I know this must be so, so hard for you,” she said, her voice brimming with an attempt at sympathy.

  Violet knew it was only an attempt, though, because her sister’s eyes were brimming with glee. At the thought of laying permanent claim to something that was once Violet’s, or because it was her wedding day, Violet had no idea. Knowing her history with Rose, it was most likely the former.

  Violet did her level best to radiate zero hard feelings or jealousy in Rose’s direction. “It’s not hard for me at all, Rose. It’s wonderful to see you so happy.”

  Rose’s enthusiasm dimmed a bit at that. “Oh…well…that’s great. Thank you. It would absolutely break my heart if you hated me because of what happened.”

  “You mean how you fucked her boyfriend in her house while she was upstairs sleeping? ‘Cause that’s what happened, right?” Dalia asked, her whiskey-laced voice reaching a volume that could most likely be heard by every guest in the room and half the kitchen staff.

  Rose’s upper lip curled up into a Billy Idol-esque snarl. “Classy, Dalia. Just like always.”

  Dalia snorted and tossed back what had to be her fifth whiskey sour, ignoring the coffee her husband kept surreptitiously nudging in front of her. “I’m just keeping it real, princess. And don’t act like you aren’t just trying to get a rise out of Vi Vi. Go back to your dipshit husband and leave us alone,” she said, making a shooing motion with her hand and managing to slap Jeff in the face.

  Jeff adjusted the glasses Dalia had knocked askew on his nose and snatched the glass out of her hand. He shoved his own glass of water over to her. “I’m officially cutting you off.”

  She blew a raspberry at him like an agitated chimp and turned back to Rose. “Besides, it won’t work, Rosey Posey. ‘Cause why the fuck would Vi Vi be jealous of Darren when she’s sitting here with a fucking underwear model?”

  Pretty much every eye in the room swiveled in Nikolai’s direction at that point.

  Jeff winced. “Sorry, man.”

  Nikolai, calm and cool as ever, merely stood up and offered Rose his hand. “Nikolai Aleyev,” he said. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  His tone said exactly the opposite, though, Violet noted. It would seem that Nikolai was unimpressed by her little sister. Very interesting, she thought.
>
  Violet hadn’t met a single man in her entire life who hadn’t been impressed by Rose. With her delicate, fine-boned features, Angelina Jolie lips, wild cloud of auburn curls, and lithe, athletic little body, Rose was nothing short of stunning. And at the moment, she kind of looked like wedding Barbie. What guy could resist a walking fantasy like Rose?

  Nikolai Aleyev, apparently.

  Violet had an almost insatiable urge to grab him by the back of the neck and kiss the stuffing out of him for that alone.

  Rose immediately switched off her “bitchy sister” mode and downshifted directly into “maneater” as she stared up at Nikolai. Violet knew all the signs of flirty Rose. The slight head tilt. The way she touched the tip of her tongue to her upper lip like a hungry kitten. The wide green eyes and look that spoke of hot summer nights, sweaty skin, and promises of lots and lots of nudity. Yep. Violet had pretty much seen Rose direct this same look towards every guy she’d ever brought home with her when she was in college and grad school.

  Reaction from the guys was pretty standard, too. There was a handshake that went on a little too long, followed by sweat beading on their brow, finished off with a subtle crotch adjustment. Violet glanced up at Nikolai, steeling herself. She couldn’t even pretend it wasn’t going to hurt if Nikolai flirted with Rose.

  “It’s such a pleasure to meet you,” Rose purred. “And you’re Violet’s…”

  Violet panicked for a moment. What was he supposed to say? Bodyguard? Guy who kidnapped her that one time? Dream boy toy?

  Nikolai glanced down at Violet before saying, “Yes. I’m Violet’s. 100%.”

  “Holy shit,” Dalia blurted out behind them. “That’s so fucking hot,” she stage-whispered, then gave Nikolai a thumbs up, along with an encouraging smile.

  He smiled back at her and gave her a wink. Dalia choked on the sip of water she’d just taken and turned to her husband. “I think I just came.”

  Jeff rested an elbow on the table and let his forehead drop into his waiting palm. “Jesus,” he muttered.

  Rose continued making small talk with Nikolai while Jeff tried to talk Dalia into eating some bread to soak up all the alcohol in her system, but Violet barely heard any of them over the ringing in her ears.

  The way Nikolai said he was hers had been perfect. And he hadn’t said it just for Rose’s benefit. She didn’t know how she knew that, but she did.

  He’d meant every word. How had she missed this? He’d said just last night that they couldn’t be together until the threat against her had been neutralized…but something in the way he was looking at her now told her he could be convinced otherwise.

  She was sure all she had to do was talk to him, let her walls down, and let him know she wanted him. All that heat and passion—and possibly love—would be hers.

  And she wanted it. God, how she wanted it.

  What the hell was she waiting for?

  “Nikolai,” she began again, putting her hand on his arm.

  He immediately turned away from Rose and leaned down towards her a bit. “What’s the matter, kotehok?”

  I want you. I want you now. I’ve always wanted you. I don’t want to wait another minute to have you.

  She opened her mouth, but the words stuck in her throat again. Damn it! Why the hell couldn’t she just say it?

  He frowned, looking concerned. “Are you feeling alright? You look a bit pale.”

  “It’s just the red dress,” Rose said dismissively. “Bright colors have always washed her out.

  Violet bit back an uncharitable reply.

  It’s your sister’s wedding day. Let her have her perfect moment.

  Ugh. Now she was hearing her mother’s voice in her head. That couldn’t be normal, could it?

  Nikolai was still looking down at her, frowning, so she shook her head. “I’m fine. I just—”

  “Well, well,” a dry, pompous voice interrupted. “Look who we have here.”

  Rose squealed with delight and clapped her hands together like a little girl on Christmas morning. Nikolai turned and raised an eyebrow at the newcomer, clearly not as impressed as Rose. Meanwhile, Violet felt the filet she’d had for dinner start to sour in her stomach. Wishing she could make a run for the door but knowing she’d never make it in her damn heels and tight dress, Violet turned, resigned to her fate, and looked right at the face of the one person—other than the guy who wanted to kill her, of course—she’d hoped to avoid all night.

  “Hello, Darren,” she said.

  “Vi.” Darren’s gaze immediately dropped to her cleavage and he licked his lips. Violet’s skin crawled as if someone had just dumped a bucket of spiders down the back of her dress. “You look delicious tonight.”

  The emphasis he put on the word delicious was creepy and lecherous and not at all brother-in-law-like. Gross.

  On second thought, she’d rather face the guy who wanted to kill her than this tool.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Harper had told Nikolai the entire story of Violet’s history with Darren to prep him for this wedding. He’d listened carefully, but surely, either he or Harper had gotten something wrong.

  Because on what planet could a douchebag like this get Violet to go out with him for a single date, let alone date her steadily for months? It didn’t make any damn sense.

  Darren didn’t bother to even look in his direction, so Nikolai took the opportunity to size the bastard up.

  He wasn’t that tall. Maybe 5’9” or so. Average build. Lean, but not muscular. Plain features. Nothing extraordinary at all. And his hair looked absolutely ridiculous. Nikolai wasn’t exactly up on trends in male fashion, but he didn’t imagine Caesar cuts were in style anywhere in the world at the moment.

  And yet this doofus had seen Violet naked and Nikolai hadn’t. Was there no justice in the world?

  “Bawhoosh!” Dalia called out. “Bawhoosh!”

  Jeff groaned. “What now?”

  Dalia pointed to Darren. “I’m trying to flush the turd! Bawhoosh!” She made a little flushing motion with her index and middle finger.

  It took Nikolai a second or two to figure out that bawhoosh was Dalia’s drunken impression of a toilet. He couldn’t hold back a little chuckle.

  “Don’t encourage her, man,” Jeff said, shoving another mug of coffee under his wife’s nose.

  “Just ignore her,” Rose said with a sneer. “That’s what I try to do.”

  Darren didn’t seem to have any trouble ignoring Dalia and Jeff. His full attention was centered on Violet. And her sexy little red dress, of course. What kind of asshole leers at his sister-in-law on his wedding day?

  Violet didn’t waste time on pleasantries with Darren, Nikolai noticed. Instead of greeting or congratulating him, Violet just looped her arm through Nikolai’s and said, “Darren, this is Nikolai. Nikolai, this is Rose’s husband, Darren.”

  Not “this is the loser who had me and was dumb enough to screw it all up and hurt me in the process,” but “Rose’s husband.” And she said it a tone that implied he’s her problem now, not mine, thank God. Nikolai liked that. It was good hearing absolutely no pain or longing in her voice as she addressed the—how did Harper say it?—twatwaffle.

  If he thought Violet held even an inkling of warm feelings for Darren, Nikolai would most likely have to break the guy’s legs. Or maybe his arms and legs. Snapping his neck and spine would probably be overkill (so to speak), right?

  Nikolai’s musings were interrupted when Darren shoved a hand in his direction. “Nice to meet you, man,” the idiot said with absolutely zero sincerity.

  And not only was he not pleased to meet Nikolai, but his beady little eyes immediately shifted back to Violet’s cleavage after meeting Nikolai’s for a cursory moment.

  Maybe snapping his neck and/or back wouldn’t be overkill after all.

  Nikolai took Darren’s hand, silently praying the other man would be dumb enough to get aggressive with him. It didn’t take but a second for Darren to tighten his hand in
what he probably thought was a crushing grip.

  He had no idea.

  With a smirk, Nikolai tightened his own grip, putting only about 20 percent of his strength behind it. That 20 percent was enough that he felt the bones in Darren’s hand shift and grind together under the pressure. Darren’s skin paled and sweat beaded on his forehead. Nikolai bared his teeth in what he hoped Violet wouldn’t notice was a warning instead of a smile.

  “Nice to meet you, too,” he said, giving Darren’s hand one last painful squeeze before releasing him.

  Rose rushed to explain to Darren that Nikolai was Violet’s boyfriend and kept babbling about…something. Nikolai quit listening. The girl was apparently so wrapped up in the sound of her own voice that she failed to notice her new husband rubbing his hand, probably trying to get some feeling back in it. Good luck with that, dumbass, Nikolai thought. That hand would be numb for the rest of the night and would most likely be too sore to use tomorrow.

  The thought made Nikolai smile again.

  As Rose prattled on to no one in particular, beside him, Violet sighed. “I can’t believe you did that again,” she whispered.

  “Did what?” he asked as innocently as he could manage.

  She shot him a reproachful look that he returned with a shrug. Eventually, her stern face relaxed and she said, “You didn’t have to do that, but…thank you.”

  Her tiny hint of a smile meant more to him than glowing praise from anyone else on earth. “You know I’d do anything for you,” he answered.

  Surely the unnatural shine in her eyes at his words was a trick of the candlelight, right?

  “You know, I think I’m beginning to understand that,” she said quietly.

  An hour later, feeling confident that they’d done their time and that her mother couldn’t claim she’d bailed too early, Violet was more than ready to go home. Nikolai went to get her coat while she went to the bathroom one last time before they hit the road.

 

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