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Jealous Russian Stalker (A Man Who Knows What He Wants Book 92)

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by Flora Ferrari




  JEALOUS RUSSIAN STALKER

  AN OLDER MAN YOUNGER WOMAN ROMANCE

  _______________________

  A MAN WHO KNOWS WHAT HE WANTS, 92

  FLORA FERRARI

  CONTENTS

  Copyright

  A Man Who Knows What He Wants Series

  Jealous Russian Stalker

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Epilogue

  Extended Epilogue

  Series

  Newsletter

  COPYRIGHT

  Copyright © 2018 by Flora Ferrari.

  All Rights Reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  The following story contains mature themes, strong language and sexual situations. It is intended for mature readers.

  A MAN WHO KNOWS WHAT HE WANTS

  Book 1: Baby Lust

  Book 2: Veteran

  Book 3: Built

  Book 4: Bambino

  Book 5: Rescued

  Book 6: Leader

  Book 7: Professor

  Book 8: Burned

  Book 9: Worldly

  Book 10: Pistol

  Book 11: Policed

  Book 12: Driven

  Book 13: Lucky 13

  Book 14: Lumberjacked

  Book 15: Protector

  Book 16: Carpenter

  Book 17: Italian Stallion

  Book 18: Gardener

  Book 19: Budapest Billionaire’s Virgin

  Book 20: Billionaire’s Babysitter

  Book 21: Cocky CFO

  Book 22: Fireman’s Filthy 4th

  Book 23: Mechanic

  Book 24: SEAL’s Secret

  Book 25: Police, Pooch, and Smooch

  Book 26: Fireman’s Fake Fiancée

  Book 27: Billionaire’s Virgin Ballerina

  Book 28: Bitcoin Billionaire’s Babysitter

  Book 29: Veterans Day Daddy

  Book 30: Cowboy’s Christmas Carol

  Book 31: Police Officer’s Princess

  Book 32: Statham

  Book 33: Bodyguard

  Book 34: Greek God

  Book 35: Billionaire Single Dad's Babysitter

  Book 36: Mountain Man

  Book 37: SEAL’s Justice

  Book 38: Royal Romance

  Book 39: Doctor Mountain Man’s Special Delivery

  Book 40: Crocodile Dan D

  Book 41: Mountain Man’s Secret Baby

  Book 42: Doctor Bad Boy’s Secret Baby

  Book 43: Cop’s Babysitter

  Book 44: Nanny for the Cop Next Door

  Book 45: Small Town SEAL’s Saving Grace

  Book 46: Cop’s Fake Fiancée

  Book 47: Billionaire’s Nanny

  Book 48: Cowboy’s Babysitter

  Book 49: Steamy

  Book 50: Brother’s Best Friend

  Book 51: Possessive Professor

  Book 52: Firefighter’s Babysitter

  Book 53: Soldier’s Secret Baby

  Book 54: Ward’s Independence Day

  Book 55: Doctor Next Door

  Book 56: Possessive Policeman

  Book 57: Coached by the MMA Fighter

  Book 58: Boss’s Babysitter

  Book 59: Virgin in New York

  Book 60: Rock Star’s Baby

  Book 61: Possessive Protector

  Book 62: Possessive Australian

  Book 63: Best Friend’s Brother

  Book 64: Possessive Cowboy

  Book 65: Summer Romanced

  Book 66: Possessive Prince

  Book 67: Lovers’s Enemy

  Book 68: Cop’s Best Friend

  Book 69: Possessive Firefighter

  Book 70: Football Next Door

  Book 71: Doctor December

  Book 72: Possessive Canadian

  Book 73: Blue Collar Billionaire

  Book 74: Possessive K-9 Cop

  Book 75: Possessive Brazilian

  Book 76: Hockey Obsession

  Book 77: Possessive Boston Irish American MMA Fighter

  Book 78: Halloween Next Door

  Book 79: Possessive Russian

  Book 80: Baseball Mine

  Book 81: Cop’s Caribbean Captive

  Book 82: Instalove Island

  Book 83: Dad’s Best Friend

  Book 84: Thanksgiving with Dad’s Boss

  Book 85: Possessive Italian Neighbor

  Book 86: Possessive Portuguese

  Book 87: Possessive Christmas Cop

  Book 88: Russian’s Obsession

  Book 89: Possessive Doctor’s Christmas

  Book 90: Possessive Parisian Pilot

  Book 91: U.K. Boxing Day

  Book 92: Jealous Russian Stalker

  Book 93: Italian Mountain Man

  JEALOUS RUSSIAN STALKER

  I watch her from a distance…a close distance.

  The moment I saw her name I couldn’t stop thinking about her. The first time I laid eyes on her I followed her. When she steps out for the day, I step in…to her personal space without leaving a trace.

  I need to know everything about her. Her past. Why she’s here in Russia. Her plans for the future.

  But whatever plans she may have had just got cancelled, because I’ve got a plan of my own…to make her mine no matter what or who tries to come between us.

  I’m obsessed and I won’t stop until she’s mine…forever.

  *Jealous Russian Stalker is an insta-everything standalone instalove romance with an HEA, no cheating, and no cliffhanger.

  NEWSLETTER

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  CHAPTER 1

  Ivan

  It’s her.

  My grip tightens on this morning’s Moscow Times, the paper crinkling so loudly a child looks up at me like I’m some sort of beast.

  And that’s exactly what she’s turned me into.

  She’s even more beautiful than I could have imagined.

  It’s the first time I’ve ever physically laid eyes on her, and for the first time I understand what it means when someone says that when you see the one you’ll know.

  I know all right. I know she will be mine.

  She removes her sunglasses as she walks down the hallway at Sheremetyevo International Airport in Moscow, fresh off her flight.

  Her piercing grey eyes stay focused straight ahead as she approaches the immigration area.

  She’s right on time.

&nb
sp; I’ve been waiting for this moment…planning every detail.

  I hit the hotspot icon on my phone just before I drop the newspaper in the trash outside the restrooms and fall in step behind her.

  The way her delicate, exposed shoulders move as she approaches the immigration line has me grinding my teeth. Every muscle in my body is tense, including the one in my groin, which I swear is harder than it’s ever been.

  My eyes take in the curve of her back as her dark hair sways side to side with each step. Her white tank top reveals a mosaic of artwork covering her left arm. She’s tatted…completely sleeved.

  And I’m completely infatuated.

  “Other line, sir,” a airport employee says trying to point me to a different immigration station.

  Not a chance.

  I ignore him. At six five and two hundred and fifty pounds I easily blow right through the arm he holds out as if that would stop me from my target.

  Nothing could.

  I wouldn’t care if his arm was made of steel or if he put a gun in my face. I’m not losing her. Not now. Not ever.

  I fall in line right behind her, my need intensifying. I step closer, so close one single strand of her hair touches my arm causing my dick to jerk violently in my pants.

  I lean forward, inhaling her scent as my nostrils flare, careful not to make a noise as I breathe in deep.

  She smells so damn sweet I want to taste every single inch of her skin. I want to spend hours in bed getting to know her, inside and out, as I ravish her with my tongue and tell her all the ways that she’s the most beautiful creature that’s ever walked on the face of the earth.

  She’s not like anyone I’ve ever seen. In some ways she looks very Russian, but the way she carries herself is very foreign. You can spot the foreigners a mile away in Moscow.

  “Do you have a pen—” she says, turning quickly. I’m so close to her that her chest brushes against my arm and I practically explode in my pants.

  “Let me check,” I say, removing my bag from over my shoulder as if I don’t know exactly where every single item is inside. I packed it so many times that I could do it blindfolded at this point. I wasn’t about to take any chances, and I brought everything I’d need to make this moment go as smoothly as it has so far.

  I take the pen from the pen slot, careful not to reveal the other contents of my bag before handing it to her.

  “Thanks,” she says.

  I nod.

  Manners. I like that. I just wonder if she’s naughty as well as nice.

  The line moves swiftly and just as it’s her turn to approach she quickly turns and hands me my pen back, thanking me again, but this time she flashes me a bit of a smile. It’s something between a smirk and a smile and damn does it look good on her, but then again what wouldn’t?

  I know what would look best on her. Me. On top of her as I claim her and make her mine forever.

  She approaches the counter and the immigration agent who’s been stoic for every other passenger suddenly straightens up in his chair and offers her a smile.

  My eyes zoom in on his nametag like a hawk. I store the name for later, so I can make him pay for what he just did.

  She may not have a ring on her finger yet, but that doesn’t mean any man can even think that he’s got a chance with what’s mine.

  Suddenly the line slows as he stares at the screen and back at her again. My fingers dig into my palms and my stance widens. I’m ready to march right up there and punch that guy so hard my fist shatters the glass and then his face. There’s no such thing as protective glass when it comes to a man who tries to make moves on my woman.

  Another agent motions me towards an open window.

  “Sir. Sir!” she says.

  I just shake my head, my eyes staying locked on the sight in front of me that has my blood pressure rising to the point I can feel my pulse on the side of my neck.

  I feel a man from behind push past me for the empty line like a rat looking for a piece of cheese.

  “If you don’t want it I’ll take it then,” he says.

  Any other day I’d make him pay for his words. Not today. I don’t care and I don’t even look in his direction.

  Finally she’s processed and I step forward.

  I stare at this s.o.b. so hard I could melt the damn glass between us.

  He squints, at my intense look.

  “Everything okay, sir?” he asks.

  You do not want to fuck with me right now, I say without even opening my mouth. My eyes and my body language conveying more words than speaking ever could.

  He leans away from the counter a bit, stamping my passport as his eyes dart to the table in front of him.

  He wisely hands it back and I quickly move through towards the baggage claim.

  She can’t get away.

  CHAPTER 2

  Willow

  I tap my foot as I wait for the baggage carousel to begin moving.

  I’ve been in transit a full twenty-four hours and all I can think of is getting to my hotel, getting a shower, and getting horizontal. How anyone can sleep sitting up is beyond me.

  Pulling my phone from my purse I tap on the Wi-Fi signal and look to see if they have free Internet.

  “Sheremetyevo International Airport - Free Wi-Fi” pops up right in first place. The signal is three bars out of five, but it will do.

  After entering my last name and flight number the Wi-Fi connects. It seems to be blazing fast and I check again. Five bars. Wow, that never happens.

  I send my mom a quick WhatsApp message to let her know I arrived and look at the carousel, which is now completely full of bags.

  Mine is almost to me and just as I go to reach for it a big hand slides in front of mine, grabbing the handle and pulling it off, setting it at my feet.

  “Thank you…again,” I say to the huge, hot, Russian guy who loaned me his pen earlier.

  I’d heard guys here were real gentlemen and if this guy is any indication then what I read online is certainly true.

  But what I didn’t read was anything about just how attractive the men here could be…specifically him.

  Alpha? Yes.

  Well dressed? Check.

  Rich oligarchs? They’ve got them in spades.

  I have no idea what this silent gentleman who seems to have a very dark side is all about, but the mystery behind him certainly has me wanting to know more.

  He nods.

  Does the guy have something against speaking?

  I take my bag and step out onto the curb where two cabs drivers quickly approach me.

  They’re practically fighting over my business and I can’t help but wonder if the fall of the ruble and the sanctions imposed against Russia have anything to do with it.

  “Where you going?” the first man says.

  “I’m cheaper and faster,” the second says, but his Russian has a bit of a Western accent to it. Maybe he’ll be easier to deal with.

  “Aquarium Hotel. It’s right next to the Crocus Expo center,” I say.

  “Let’s go,” the first driver says putting his hand on my arm, pulling me towards the cab.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” I say trying to take a step back. This guy is way too aggressive and his grip tells me he definitely doesn’t know how to treat a lady.

  “My cab,” the other guy says grabbing my other arm away from my wheeled luggage’s handle.

  I lean back on the balls of my feet trying not to get pulled into one of the cars, but it’s no use.

  Neither guy wants to let go of me as they both look at each other like they’re about to fight.

  “Let her go,” the second driver says, his Russian with an English accent suddenly sounding way more American.

  “Fock you!” the other Russian guy says, mispronouncing the word but there’s no time to laugh.

  Fear shoots through me as they both tug me in opposite directions.

  I look down at my bag, making sure this isn’t some sort of robbery distraction scam.


  My bag is still there.

  I open my mouth to scream, but just before I do out of nowhere a huge man’s head comes flying in from the side, his forehead catching the bridge of the nose of the first Russian driver sending blood spattering everywhere, his grip releases and he stumbles backward before tripping over the curb and tumbling to the ground.

  The new guy pivots and delivers a brutal forearm and elbow combination to the other driver, my body completely frozen as that man drops even faster than the first.

  I feel like my feet are stuck in quicksand, my entire body frozen as I just watched a kind of violence the State Department’s website warned me about.

  But this unfolded right in front of me and I haven’t even left the airport.

  I look up at the man, my jaw dropping as I realize it’s the same guy from the immigration line…and the baggage claim line.

 

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