by Amanda Hough
I shook my head. “That’s awesome, but until the therapist clears it, you stay put.” I inventoried everything around her. Pitcher of water, her favorite crackers, latest trash novel and the phone. “You have everything you need right here. When I get home we can try to walk to the bedroom, deal?”
I raised my eyebrow, willing her to agree.
“Don’t talk to me like I’m a child, Antonina!”
My face must have paled because her frown lifted immediately. “I’m so sorry baby. I’m frustrated and taken it out on you.”
“It’s okay,” I answered.
“No,” she said. “No, it isn’t. Baby we need to talk—”
“Nope!” I said a little too loudly. “We aren’t talking about this right now. It was a suggestion from the doctor. It doesn’t mean we have to do it. We’re fine.”
My mom lowered her head. “Yeah, I am fine. You make sure of that. What about you?”
I gave her a smile, leaned down to kiss her cheek. “I love my momma and I will see you later.”
I ordered her to call my cell phone if she needed me and hurried out the door. I was going to be late.
“What’s going on out there?” I asked. There was a suspicious huddle of men on Sergey’s back patio. They looked like they were up to something.
Evie lifted her head from the cake she was decorating to see what I was talking about.
With a sigh, she went back to the cake, ignoring the question. She obviously didn’t care what they were doing.
I walked to the back door and watched the men through the mullioned windows. Sergey was there, of course. And Dragan too. Begrudgingly I had to acknowledge he looked really good. Though he always did. I’d never seen him in anything other in a suit and tie. But tonight he wore gray slacks and a pale yellow shirt with the sleeves rolled up to reveal toned tattooed forearms. A serious scowl marred his face. It usually did. He had a nice face though. Lean with a strong jawline, always heavily dusted in black whiskers. Straight black brows over onyx eyes and thick inky lashes. His skin akin to marble. Smooth, flawless and pale. Nothing like Sergey. Dragan was a winter’s night, dark with mystery. While his brother was like a sunny day. I swallowed hard to stop myself from imagining how his short hair would feel against my fingers. Remember the dislike, I chanted to myself. I dared one final look and caught him staring at me. His eyes were like polished obsidian. Shining bright but hard and black. I held his stare for a few breaths. Tonight he didn’t look disgusted like he usually did. Instead, his countenance seemed to be coiled tight, like an animal about to strike. Tense. Two words that typically described him when he was around me: tense and disgusted. It was at that moment I realized something I would never admit to another soul. I was scared of Dragan Mikhailov. I turned away quickly, disappointed in myself. I feared nothing and no one.
He unnerved me. That was all. And I would analyze the emotion and then cut it into tiny little pieces and bury in my mind where I entombed everything that threatened my resolve.
Pivoting away from the door, I spied Evie lick the icing from her fingers.
“Can I have a taste?”
“Of course, I was wondering when you would stop staring at the boys and notice I made your favorite.”
I stood next to Evie and dipped my finger into the bowl of mocha frosting. “Oh, God,” Chocolate, creamy with a hint of coffee. Evie was an amazing cook. And though I’d tried, I was awful. Though she’d taught me to bake, I wasn’t as good as she was. I licked my finger clean and groaned, “Mmm. That is so good.”
“Usually I’m in the room when a woman says things like that.” A deep voice came from behind us.
The covert meeting were coming through the back door. A man, unknown to me, Dragan and then Sergey. Evie’s man chuckled. “Toni!” He waved to the man next to him. “This is my little brother Nicolai.” Sergey’s eyes shined a grin wide and contagious spread across his face. Yep, he had the Evie effect all over his face. She had that way about her.
Nicolai Mikhailov stood taller than both his brothers. His shoulders were wide, his face all planes and edges. Tan, blonde, muscled. He looked like something out of a fitness magazine. He was a tasty combination of Sergey and Dragan. Woof.
“You sound pleased to say that,” I responded with a chuckle. The man’s love and affection was contagious. I couldn’t resist and planted a kiss on Sergey’s cheek and offered my hand to the little brother. “Very nice to meet you Nicolai.”
The big man took my hand and placed a kiss on my knuckles. “My God, you are a beauty,” he sighed, studying my face. He pulled my hand to bring me closer and grinned. He smelled really good. Clean with hints of vetiver and sandalwood. He continued. “I’ve been wondering who had the Dragan tied in knots.” I smiled but felt oddly uncomfortable with the attention. My eyes cut to Dragan. Apparently he’d shared his dislike for me with his little brother.
“Enough Nico!” Dragan said. “And let go of her. Now.” I heard Dragan growl from beside me. I felt his hand hit my waist and guide me to his side and back a few paces.
Nicolai gave a hard laugh and looked around the room. All eyes, including mine, on Dragan. “Don’t worry Drago! I remember your warning. Antonina is off limits. I gotta tell you though, wouldn’t have made such a deal if I’d known just how beautiful she was.” He winked at me and smacked Dragan on the shoulder before turning to Evie.
“Can I help with anything? I’m on the verge of getting in trouble. I think I have awakened the Dragan,” he joked with a raised brow.
Evie eyed Dragan and I for a moment. I could see her mind working. Don’t go there Evie.
“Yes, sweet Evelyn, give Nico something to do with his hands,” Dragan said without inflection.
Evie laughed then, happy to deflate the bubble of tension expanding in her kitchen and ordered Nicolai and Sergey to finish setting the table.
“Dragan,” Evie said warmly, turning back to us. “If you wouldn’t mind, would you get the lasagna out of the oven? It’s heavy.”
He squeezed my hip and released me. Going to Evie, he planted a kiss on her cheek. “Of course, sweet Evelyn.” He kissed her cheek again and went to work on his task.
“What about me?” I asked.
Evie gave me a grin. “Open the wine, fast!”
A few minutes after Evie and I poured our first glass of wine for the evening, the doorbell rang signaling that the remaining guests had arrived.
Dragan and I were left alone in the kitchen while everyone else went to welcome the rest of the dinner party.
“Antonina,” he said low. I noticed his hand rested on my waist again. The fingers gently tracing back and forth below my ribcage. How odd that a man so cold could make me feel so warm. I resisted the urge to lean into him. The irascibility that typically laced his tone, gone. Instead he sounded defeated.
I focused on the feel of his touch. I wanted his hands on me more than I wanted to admit. I knew, in the pit of my stomach, that behind the glacial stares, the disinterested reserve, there was a fire. Maybe not for me. But a fire.
“Antonina?” he said again. This time with impatience.
“What?” I grumbled. “What now? What grievous sin have I committed now?” I was getting angry, which was good. I needed to be on my toes around this man. One touch and I was undone. Stop thinking about him naked and get a grip, I thought. Taking a breath, I pushed his hand from my side and turned to face him.
He cleared his throat. “I owe you an apology,” he started. “Never, never in my life have I laid my hands on a woman like I did you the other night.” My eyes narrowed and he misinterpreted the action. “At the club, in the alley, “he stumbled.
“Yeah,” I replied with acid. “I remember.”
“Evie and I spoke today. I’m ashamed to say I misunderstood you. I made assumptions and I shouldn’t have.”
“Why were you and Evie discussing me? If you have a question about me, I suggest you ask me.” I spat the last words out at him and started to walk away.
He blocked my progress and I subconsciously rubbed my forearm.
He looked down and saw the evidence of his frustration on my arm. He’d left bruises.
“Christ, I did that?” he asked. He started to touch me and I stepped back. Not out of fear. Well, maybe panic that instead of focusing on my task to uncover his motives, I would end up dry humping his leg. His presence unnerved me.
“It’s fine.” I glanced around his shoulder. We were still alone. When I turned back to face Dragan again he was watching me, his eyes studying me.
Frowning he said, “You’re scared to be alone with me,” he concluded. With a shake of his head, he started to roll his sleeves down to cover the tattoos. His fingers making their way to the front of his shirt. I watched him cover himself. He couldn’t hide the scary snake tattoo across his throat but the golf ball sized diamond drawn on his suprasternal notch was covered by his collar. That sexy little notch at the bottom of the neck. Cover his history. A rock settled in my stomach, low and heavy. Why was communicating with this man such a clusterfuck?
“Dragan.” I laughed with resignation. I reached up and pulled his fingers from his collar, and then moving to his sleeves, I unbuttoned the cuffs and folded the material back up his arms. First the right. Then the left. Exposing the blue and red ink. Begrudgingly I confessed, “You scare me but not for the reasons you think.” I sighed. The deliberation of his gaze was unnerving and personal. He was studying me like I’d seen him study others. “Stop looking at me like that,” I grumbled. “If you two are sleeping together, fine. It’s not my business. But I’ve known Rosa for a long time. She’s not acting like herself. I think you are the reason why.” I sighed. I was tired. “Look, I don’t want to argue anymore. You don’t like me. I get that. But if you are fucking with Rosa, I will find a way to stop you. She’s had so much shit in her life. She deserves some good.”
He put his hand up and shook his head. “You think I’m hurting her? What the hell do you think is going on?”
“I think she’s lonely. Don’t take advantage of that. She may not see you for what you are, but I do,” I declared.
Dragan laughed in spite of himself and took a step toward me, recouping the ground he’d lost a moment ago. “Oh, enlighten me, sweetheart. Please explain, how do you see me, Antonina?” He was grinning but he looked pissed.
“Would you stop calling me that? I fucking hate that name. And the way you say it makes me what to scratch your damn eyes out!”
His face grew serious and the laugh lines transformed into a frown. With deliberate slowness, he leaned down, his gaze penetrating, icy. His thumb on my chin, he whispered, “How do you see me, Antonina?” It sounded like a threat.
I found myself backed against a cabinet. Standing straight, I met his gaze, but words failed me. The force of his question came at me like a wave crashing against rock. I could feel the heat coming off his chest, his warm breath at my temple. Though I remained immobile, faking nonchalance, I knew this intensity would slowly erode my resolve. Change me if I allowed it. I felt the violence in him, a vibration that hummed through his bones, past muscle and flesh and into the fingers that touched my neck. For that moment, that one instant I knew what it was like to truly be attracted to someone. Not just sexually, but electrostatically. Chemically. Positive and negative. Yen and Yang. Sun and Moon. Yield and Attack. I was taken aback at the realization that I’d identified something in him that I’d wanted for a long time. And then… then I looked into his eyes and saw victory in the darkness. Not mine. His. That is when I remembered who I was. And I recalled that he was just a man.
“Well?” he asked again. “What do you think when you look at me?” He’d lowered is head further and his lips were at my ear. He was playing me. Trying to keep me off balance to deflect from his intentions. This was some kind of game of sexual one-upsmanship. I wrote the fucking manual for this little exercise.
I nudged his mouth from my ear and took his chin in to my hand. No man intimidated me. I’d made an art out of manipulating men. Letting them think they were getting all of me. But in reality, getting only what I was willing to lose. I traced my index finger across his bottom lip. I offered a stunted exhale and heard his breath hitch, just a little intake of breath and I knew he was paying attention. A little crack in his icy facade? A smile spread across my face. And I trailed the finger down his throat, his chest, to rest at his belt buckle. Below my touch, his pants tented. He was hard. “You…” I leaned into his body, got on my toes and pressed my lips against the jagged scar that stretched horizontality across his neck. He smelled like soap and cigars and the scent went straight to the amygdala of my brain. My desire to let my tongue work, warred with my need to rule the situation. Control won. I inhaled deeply and took his shirt into my fist. I’d dream about the smell. Masculine arousal. “You… Dragan. You are out of your league.” I winked, sidestepped him and walked out of the room.
CHAPTER NINE
BRENNA
The Dragan
I made certain I was seated as far away from Toni as I could get. But that didn’t stop me from watching her throughout dinner.
She and Boris hit it off immediately. Both exchanging jokes with one another. Sharing stories. Nicolai seemed to be enjoying himself too. Evelyn babied him. Refilling his plate with lasagna, asking him about his work, his plans in Austin. Brenna spent half her time wiping tomato sauce off her growing baby belly and half in tears. I’d brought Nico to her after he arrived in town earlier that day. There had been a lot of tears then. She’d spoken on the phone with him and exchanged letters over the years. But this was the first face to face in two decades. But that didn’t stop her from crying now. It had been an emotional reunion. That coupled with the drama going on with our other sisters and their grandmother, Brenna cried often. A fact that Boris brought to both Sergey and my attention before they had sat down for dinner. He didn’t like his wife upset and the Mountain, as Evie called him, made it clear to us to bring the family turmoil to a conclusion, and fast.
It wasn’t as simple as that. Indictments were coming. Sergey had been involved in the Federal Grand Jury proceedings. Prosecutors knew better than to call me to testify. My presence would open a massive can of worms. Anyway, I was persona non grata. I didn’t exist unless my services were needed. And that is the way I liked it. However when the truth about our family hit the public, Brenna would be devastated. She loved Irina and our sisters. Greed was a dangerous motivation and they were learning that lesson the hard way.
Thanks to the ‘box’ Evelyn’s brother, Eric had left her, a happy conclusion for the Mikhailov Family was unlikely. I watched Evie smiling at my brothers. Her encouragement and affection, through the past few weeks had been the salve for me. Her support and cooperation, a respite to the burden I carried. I knew my investigation was leading back to Irina’s front door. But I didn’t anticipate the depths of her involvement.
The ‘box’ that Eric had taken and hidden in a locker at the YMCA hadn’t been a box per se. Instead, it was a two inch by four-inch rectangular external hard drive. What the police uncovered when they were able to get past the imbedded security had blown a hole in organized crime in Texas and beyond. And it had precipitated my early retirement. This was fine with me.
Of course Eric Snow had no idea that he was stealing information that could put the family of his sister’s boyfriend in prison.
I felt a hand on mine. Evelyn’s. “You okay? she whispered. Her face expectant, fearful.
I smiled and patted her. “Fine, I’m good. Don’t worry about me.”
She shook her head. “All the pressure you and Sergey are under. I can take care of Sergey but you? You go back to the horrid apartment alone. Won’t you please stay here? We can be together and I can make sure you eat. I don’t want you to be alone. What if someone comes after you?”
I gave her a rare laugh then. “Evelyn. I can handle anyone who comes my way. No one would be dumb enough to mess with me.” She started to protest but I cont
inued, “And, I eat. How many casseroles have you made me in the past few weeks? And honestly I am rarely at my apartment.”
Evie nodded and took my hand before I could pull away. “Don’t forget. I see you Dragan Mikhailov. You aren’t scary. You’re not the bad guy. You aren’t alone anymore.” Her voice wavered and I brought her hand to my lips. I loved this woman. “Do you know that I adore you Miz Snow. Leave my brother and run away with me.” I smiled.
Evelyn laughed then. “Oh, you’re doing that little misdirection thing you do when the questions get to close to a nerve.” She patted my cheek like I was a child. “That is so cute,” she clucked. “So you ready to tell me what the hell is going on with you and Toni?” She raised her brows in challenge. A grin on her face.
“Nothing is going on, I promise you that. She doesn’t like me.”
Evie looked over and caught Toni watching us from the other end of the table. “Yeah right,” she replied.
CHAPTER TEN
FLAPPY THINGY
Toni
While I rinsed dishes and wiped down countertops, Evie and Sergey got Nicolai set up in the guest bedroom. Apparently Dragan’s one room apartment wouldn’t accommodate company. He was on the phone in the backyard again.
I watched the orange ember of his cigar pace back and forth. He had been out there for nearly ten minutes. I knew he and Evie were talking about me at dinner. Evie knowing that Dragan had declined the offer of sex was problematic. I knew how her head worked. Right now she was probably daydreaming about she and I being married to the pair of brothers. Maybe a double wedding with matching gowns. The thought made bile flood into my mouth. She was such a girl sometimes.
Bending down, I loaded the plates and glasses into the dishwasher and added the soap. I hissed in discomfort when a stab of pain went across my shoulder blades. When I returned to the sink, I peered out the window again. The burning tip was gone. I got closer to the window looking for signs of life.