Wed to the Russian Biker: A Mafia Romance

by Bella Rose

  Courtney blinked sleepily. Something had awoken her, and now she had the horrible sense of being disoriented and having no idea where she was. She rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. It was white and coffered with little lights recessed into the paneling that gave off a soft, unobtrusive glow. It enabled her to see the details of the bedroom around her, from the tall highboy in the corner to the ornate dresser across the room. The furniture was dark wood and very masculine. Even the dark amber-and-cinnamon-colored brocaded curtains that were pulled across the windows reeked of masculinity. Everything was heavy and dark. Even the bits of floor she could see were polished dark wood.

  “Hello, my love.”

  The tender words startled her. She rolled to her other side and saw Mikhail getting dressed. The sight surprised her, though now that she saw him in this room she couldn’t imagine why she hadn’t known immediately that it belonged to him. It was hard and forceful just like the man who called it home.

  “Morning,” she said sleepily.

  Mikhail walked to the bed. It was a strange sort of intimacy to see him with his shirt unbuttoned and his feet bare. The thought struck her as odd considering the fact that the two of them had slept together several times by now. He bent over and brushed a featherlight kiss over her brow. He was smiling when he pulled back. There was inordinate amount of satisfaction on his face. Why?

  He gently stroked her cheek with his fingertip. “You can sleep as long as you like. I’ve posted one of my men out by the elevator. If you need anything, just ask him. I’ve had my personal shopper take care of your wardrobe. There should be plenty of clothing and other toiletry items available before I leave this morning.”

  Courtney had a little bit of trouble processing all of this. Mikhail had his personal shopper go out and buy her clothing? Of course, she did remember that he had completely decimated what she’d been wearing last night. Still, that seemed excessive. She had clothing. Bella would have been happy to bring her some things.

  “I want to take care of you, Courtney,” Mikhail crooned. He knelt beside the bed and gently pressed a bevy of kisses to her forehead, cheeks, and even the end of her nose. “I can finally do everything for you that I dreamed of all those years ago. Let me have this. Please?”

  His words shocked and dismayed Courtney all at once. “I don’t know what to say.” At least that was the honest truth. She didn’t have any idea how to respond to this information at all. He had always wanted to treat her like this? Like what? Like some sort of princess cloistered in a tower somewhere who couldn’t provide for herself? What about what Courtney wanted?

  Mikhail glanced at his watch. “I have to go.” He brushed his lips over hers. “I’ll see you this afternoon. We’ll do a little shopping and talk some more about other things.”

  “Like what?” She immediately wanted to know.

  “Just things.”

  Marriage.

  Without asking she knew that was his next step. What was with all of these men that they just made assumptions about her future without ever asking if she had any plans? It was infuriating. But for now she smiled and rolled back to her other side to avoid any further conversation. Closing her eyes, she feigned sleep until she heard the elevator ding.

  MIKHAIL FELT THE most profound sense of contentment every time he thought of Courtney closeted safely away in his penthouse apartment. One of Frank’s best men was guarding her, and Mikhail was well prepared to spoil his woman rotten for the rest of her days.

  And the kid too, of course.

  That concept still wasn’t entirely real to him yet. As his driver navigated downtown traffic on the way to the office, Mikhail attempted to reconcile the notion that Courtney was going to give birth in—truthfully, he had no notion of how long these things took—so sometime within the next year.

  He was whistling by the time he snagged the private executive elevator to the top floor of the large office building he had purchased to be his company headquarters nearly ten years before. This was the life that had eluded him for so long. The little boy who had watched his mother suffer as his father struggled to make a name for himself with the Russian mafia was now living a normal life. Yes. He had certainly made it to the pinnacle of all things.

  “Hello, Mikhail.”

  Vasily’s presence in his reception area was not unexpected, but it wasn’t necessarily welcome either. Mikhail almost laughed at the way his administrative assistant was eyeing the Russian mobster. She obviously knew the man was not entirely safe, although she probably couldn’t put her finger on exactly what the problem was.

  “Annette, hold all of my calls,” Mikhail told the woman with a pleasant smile. “I’ll take this meeting in my office.” Mikhail turned to Vasily. “Do you want coffee?”

  “Please,” Vasily said, all politeness and urbane manners.

  “A coffee tray please, Annette?”

  “Yes, sir,” Annette said eagerly. “Right away.”

  Vasily snickered once the woman was gone. “She certainly didn’t know what to think of me.”

  “Undoubtedly,” Mikhail murmured. He led the way into his office and closed the door. “Dare I ask what this visit is in regards to?”

  “You left rather suddenly last night,” Vasily said slowly, making himself comfortable on the couch. “I thought I would bring you up to speed.”

  “Is this where you inform me that my future father-in-law is dead?” Mikhail asked mildly. “Because that would be rather awkward.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” Vasily rolled his eyes. “Killing the man would be far more trouble that it was worth.”

  Annette chose that moment to push a coffee tray into Mikhail’s office. Mikhail cursed inwardly as the woman’s eyes grew huge. He would have to do some very serious damage control later. That was for certain. Of course, any association with Vasily was going to be a continual occupational hazard for Mikhail.

  * * *

  “Ms. Piers-Cameron?”

  Courtney looked up from the cappuccino maker she was trying to figure out and smiled at the guard. The man looked almost frazzled. “What can I help you with?”

  “Your clothes are here.” The guard—she thought he had introduced himself earlier as Ryan—appeared overwhelmed. “There are a lot of bags. Shall I just take them into Mr. Krachenko’s room?”

  “Um, sure.” Courtney wasn’t exactly sure how she was going to get away with all of this, but she did know the perfect person to help her. “By the way, my best friend, Bella, will be here in just a few minutes. Can you please make sure that she gets up here?”

  “Of course.” Ryan ducked his head respectfully. “Bella Pinckney?”

  “Yes, that’s right.” Courtney had momentarily forgotten than Toby and Mikhail were practically bosom buddies.

  “I’ll keep an eye out for her.” Ryan turned and walked away, most likely on the pretext of hauling her shopping bags to Mikhail’s bedroom.

  Courtney picked up her perfectly brewed cup of cappuccino and sipped the fluffy foam from the top of the liquid. The hot chocolatey goodness slid down her throat, but not even that comforting sensation could stop her from feeling melancholy at the moment.

  Then the elevator dinged, and moments later Courtney heard Bella’s laughter. “Where’s my crazyass friend?” Bella’s exuberant voice drifted through the apartment. “I can’t find her in this mausoleum!”

  Courtney smiled at her friend as Bella walked around the corner and entered the kitchen. “I know, right? This place is so pristine you would almost hate to attempt sitting on one of those couches.”

  “It definitely needs a woman’s touch.” Bella hauled one of her designer suitcases around her right side and deposited it upright on the floor between them. “And honestly I don’t know how a suitcase is going to help you make this place more homey.”

  “Hush,” Courtney admonished. “I’m not decorating with the suitcase.”

  “Oh my God, you’re leaving,” Bella whispered excitedly. “Does he
know?”

  “Of course not,” Courtney murmured. “Do you think I’d be here with just one guard if he suspected me of planning something like this?”

  Bella rolled her eyes. “Good point. So? What do we do?”

  “We go through all of those clothes that he ordered and pick out the ones that are salvageable. Then I pack and get the hell out of here.”

  “My God, you’re really going through with this.” Bella put her hands in front of her mouth.

  “You can’t tell anyone where I’m going,” Courtney reminded her. “If you can’t keep my secret, I’ll just go without telling you where.”

  “No!” Bella said quickly. “I can keep a secret.”

  Courtney eyed her friend suspiciously. “Even from Toby?”

  “In this case? Especially from Toby.” Bella looked upset. “Although I’m going to miss you horribly.”

  “I’ll miss you too.” Courtney set her cup down and headed toward the bedroom with Bella and the suitcase right at her heels.

  * * *

  “So,” Mikhail said in a conversational tone. “If you aren’t here to tell me that my future father-in-law is dead, why have you come?”

  “To talk about Dimitri.” Vasily raised his coffee cup to his lips and took a sip. He looked surprised. “Russian coffee?”

  “I happen to like it.” Mikhail didn’t know why he felt so defensive. There were plenty of things about his heritage that he liked very much. The food tended to be exceptional, the culture was colorful and engaging, and if he were going to claim a religion it would be Russian Orthodox. Thinking about religion reminded him of the priest. “By the way, were you really going to make old Father Gorsky marry Kemper to Courtney against her will?”

  Vasily shrugged. “I’d have gotten her to agree one way or another.”

  “You don’t know Courtney,” Mikhail snorted. He felt smug in his supreme knowledge of his woman and hid a smile behind the rim of his coffee cup. “So you wished to talk about Dimitri? Talk, then. I’m listening.”

  Vasily cocked his head to one side. “Your arrogance is going to get you in trouble.”

  Vasily set his cup down and sat back in his chair. Mikhail didn’t appreciate the expression on his cousin’s face. It was almost condescending but not quite. Vasily seemed to be staring at Mikhail as though he pitied him a little. Mikhail was far beyond the point of needing such a thing from Vasily. The man was a Russian mobster. Mikhail was a legitimate businessman. They had almost nothing in common.

  “I remember when I was your age,” Vasily mused. “I was so sure of myself. I went to Oksana’s father and asked for her hand in marriage, and the old man agreed. He was a boss in his own right in another city. I took it for granted that Oksana would be thrilled to be my wife. Why wouldn’t she? I was rich and powerful in this city. I had a home and I could take care of her in grand style.”

  “What happened?” Mikhail found himself somewhat enthralled by the tale, simply because he couldn’t imagine Vasily and Oksana not being a couple. It was something that Mikhail had always envied Vasily. The man had a wife that loved him to distraction.

  Vasily chuckled. “The woman gave me a flat refusal because she did not want to leave her family.”

  “You obviously convinced her.”

  “Yes. But I had to lay down my pride and remember that she was a woman who knew her own mind, had her own goals, thoughts, and aspirations, and her own way of doing things. I had to learn compromise, Mikhail.”

  “And now you’ve married Ekaterina off to Dimitri’s eldest son,” Mikhail said quietly. “How did Oksana feel about that? No. How did Katy really feel?”

  “You’re trying to paint me as a villain here.” Vasily raised a hand and shook his finger at Mikhail. “My wife and daughter were just as involved in that decision as I was. Ekaterina had the final say.”

  “I find if difficult to believe that she would choose marriage to a man she didn’t love,” Mikhail insisted.

  “So stop thinking that she didn’t love him.”

  “Is he like Dimitri?”

  Vasily shook his head. “No. He lacks the killer instinct, and the kid has morals.”

  Mikhail considered that for a moment. “Then he very likely had nothing to do with Dimitri securing his future by murdering Uday.”

  “I would guess not.” Vasily’s leaned forward and braced his elbows on his knees. “I have blamed you for the death of my son for more years than I can count.”

  “I didn’t murder him. Uday was my friend, my cousin. He was like a brother to me after you took me in.”

  “I was angry,” Vasily admitted. “After I lost my son and you disappeared, I believed that God was punishing me for being weak enough to bring you into my home instead of leaving you in that jail cell to rot.”

  “Then let’s find a solution,” Mikhail suggested. He was feeling particularly accommodating at the moment. “I refuse to let you absorb my company or my holdings into your organization, but there might be another way to reach an agreement.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Courtney decided that Ryan the impromptu bodyguard was looking very uncomfortable as Courtney and Bella strolled toward him, dragging the suitcase behind them. Bella had come up with the idea that the two of them should be dressed to the nines as if they were going someplace special. In this getup it certainly didn’t look like they were planning anything ornery.

  “Excuse me, Ms. Piers-Cameron?” Ryan’s throat moved as he swallowed. “I’m afraid Mr. Krachenko did not authorize you to leave the penthouse.”

  Courtney raised both eyebrows and gave Ryan her very best dress-down look. It was the look her father perpetually used with the staff in their home. It had the desired effect almost immediately. Ryan fell back a step, and Bella hit the elevator button.

  “I’m sorry—what was your name again—Ryan?” Courtney flung every ounce of attitude at her disposal in the poor man’s direction. “But I have an appointment with my friend Bella and several other members of our social group that I simply cannot miss!”

  “It’s brunch,” Bella said as though that explained everything. “You may not understand how important it is because you don’t have to be seen by the right people in the right places like we do, but trust me”—Bella put on her dazzling smile—“it’s vital to Courtney’s continued acceptance after the recent—ahem—ordeal with Mr. Kemper.”

  “Don’t bring that up!” Courtney said in mock horror. “How gauche!”

  “It’s not like he didn’t already know.” The elevator doors whooshed open and Bella dragged Courtney inside, still arguing about Kemper. “I mean, I’m sorry, sweetie, but everyone knows! Ohmigod and I just heard Monique telling someone that she heard from Tori Bevins that Creighton Kemper is screwing Elsa Manning the wedding planner!”

  “So everyone knows that too?” Courtney waited until the doors had whooshed shut on Ryan’s openmouthed surprise before she dropped the haute couture act.

  Bella slumped against the side of the elevator. “I guess we won’t know if we succeeded until we get downstairs and there’s nobody waiting to shoo you back upstairs.”

  “I hope not.” Courtney didn’t really know what she would do if that were the case. “I’m not really prepared to come up with another exit strategy. Especially since I really wanted to take at least some stuff with me.”

  “So you’re really doing this,” Bella said quietly. “Are you sure? Mikhail is a good man, Court. He can change.”

  “You didn’t hear the way he talks about this baby.” Courtney offered her friend a small smile. “I know you guys are trying so hard to have a child. I feel bad that I managed to pull this off without even being ready.”

  Bella rolled her eyes. “Haven’t you noticed that pregnancy always seems to work that way? Toby and I will get things figured out eventually. Until then, I’m more concerned about you.”

  “You’re a good friend.” Courtney thought back to the beginning of this whole mess. “I still can�
�t believe it was your wedding where I met him again.”

  “Mikhail?” Bella bobbed her head up and down. “Yeah, that is really weird. But maybe it was all meant to be.”

  “You’ve always believed in kismet.” Courtney wondered if she could buy into that idea and wasn’t sure she was willing to leave that much up to fate. “Oh. And did Monique really say she’d heard that about Elsa and Creighton?”

  “Yep.” Bella’s eyes twinkled. “How hilarious is that? The woman is a whiz with the planning. She’s a stellar networker, and she knows everyone in the city. But now that she’s gotten caught with her hand in the cookie jar, her reputation will be ruined. Nobody will want to take that chance.”

  “Serves her right,” Courtney grunted. “I’ve never met anybody meaner.”

  “She’s definitely a mean-spirited person,” Bella agreed. “I’m just glad I never have to worry about my Toby.”

  “No. You certainly don’t.” Courtney braced herself as the elevator hit the ground floor. “Are you ready?”

  “For what?” Bella looked alarmed. “Am I supposed to tackle someone or fake a fainting episode to create a diversion? We did not discuss that kind of strategy, Courtney!”

  The doors opened, but there was no fanfare. In fact there was pretty much nothing. Courtney could see a doorman sitting behind his counter full of security screens about halfway between her and the exit. But the guy didn’t look alarmed or even awake.

  “You’d better find a way to let me know where you are,” Bella told her. “Promise me.”

  “I will.”

  * * *

  Mikhail watched his cousin stride down the hall on his way toward the elevator and had the oddest feeling of satisfaction. He certainly wanted no part of the Russian mafia having control of his businesses or demanding protection money or any of the myriad other ways they managed to worm their way into business dealings. But Mikhail had enjoyed just being around his cousin once again. Vasily and his family were Mikhail’s only living relatives. For some reason, that really meant something in Mikhail’s life as he got older.

  “Sir?”