“I see you have found your clothing. It is all yours, Emiliya, and all brand new. Please come to the kitchen. I made breakfast.” He stands and walks out of the room, leaving me sitting with my lips on fire from his kiss, and my mind spinning, thinking about pussycats and clothes.
I quickly dress in a pair of leggings and a tank top before throwing my hair up in a messy bun. My face is a mess, my eyes still puffy, but I am hungry and I do not want to upset Radimir. I have no idea how he will behave if I do not follow his commands.
I smell the bacon as it enters my room, and I hear my stomach rumble with hunger. I shove all thoughts to the back of my mind and hurry downstairs.
“Sit,” Radimir orders. I do, because, well… I am hungry.
Radimir fills two plates with eggs, bacon, breakfast muffins, and fresh fruit. It is beautiful, and I can’t believe he has made all of it for me. He slides the plate in front of me and sits down across from me with his own. We are sitting at the breakfast table, a small white surface with only four black chairs. I can’t help myself, I stare at the plate in awe.
“I poured you coffee and orange juice. If you would like something different, please tell me,” he says softly.
My eyes snap to his. I smile, my lips a bit wobbly. He is giving me a choice and he is giving me his permission to ask for something different. Nobody has ever done that before.
“No, this is so perfect. You are a wonderful chef,” I admit, taking a bite of the eggs into my mouth.
“I am no chef, kotik, just a single man,” he says, watching me. I shake my head.
“I wish I were a better cook. My father required me to attend culinary school while I was at University in France, but I’m afraid it didn’t take. I am terrible in the kitchen.” I regret the words as soon as they come out.
Will he not keep me if I can’t cook?
“Good, then you won’t be wasting countless hours in the kitchen. We can order our meals or I can hire a chef; whatever you desire, Emiliya,” he suggests.
I blink, once, twice, three times, uncertain if I have heard the words correctly.
“A chef?” I ask, my voice weak and small.
Radimir nods, putting a grape in his mouth. I watch as he slowly chews the fruit, gently, and with purpose. Suddenly, desire rips through me. I want to be that grape. I want his full lips to wrap around any part of my body, and I want his teeth to sink into my skin. Though I’m not sure why I want this, I just know that with him, I want it all.
I have never been allowed to date before. Never even been allowed to be alone with a man. When I went to France, I had guards—guards that reported to my father every single step I took.
One of the guards I thought I had feelings for. I would give him shy glances and grins. I wanted him to kiss me. I wanted to feel his full lips on mine. Eventually, the other guard ratted him out, told my father he was coming on to me. It was too late, though; heinous damages had been done, the guard turned into a monster and the next day a new one replaced him.
Having feelings for Ivan Chekov’s daughter was dangerous. Acting on them was deadly.
From that moment on, I kept to myself. I never allowed myself to dream about anything more with a man, not matter what I wanted, no matter what I craved. I was not going to put another person in harm’s way because of my psychotic father.
Things are different now, though. I have the opportunity to feel for another human. To possibly love. Last night, I would not have said I could have ever fallen for this man in front of me. But he isn’t exactly what I imagined when my brother handed me to him. He left me alone, he’s not taken any liberties, and when he looks at me, my heart flutters inside of my chest.
“Yes, whatever you like. This is your house now, too, kotik. Whatever you wish, it is yours,” he smiles.
My eyes widen. I wonder what I will have to do to get whatever I wish. Radimir wraps his big hand around mine and, as though he is a mind reader, he speaks soft and low.
“Everything I give you, Emiliya, comes with no strings. If you do not want to be intimate, I will not force you to be. I will still protect you and care for you in any way you wish. You are mine and I am yours from here on out. I hope that you will want me one day, as I find I already want you; but if that day doesn’t come, I will not force you.
“Your home will always be with me, beside me, and you will always be provided for. Do not worry about anything. I will have a few chefs come this week for interviews. Pick who you want,” he says, his thumb tracing small circles on the inside of my wrist.
My whole body melts, my insides catch on fire, and I shiver all at the same time. I want him. I want him and I don’t know how I feel about that. I also don’t know how to express that. So I nod and I focus on my food.
“You will need to find a wedding dress. We must make this public. We will have a small ceremony in one week’s time. We will leak the photographs to the paparazzi,” he announces before he goes back to eating his breakfast.
We don’t speak again, and he leaves shortly after, explaining he has to go into work. He advises that I stay inside the home. There is a guard outside the front door, keeping me safe, and he hands me his cell phone number. He is so nice, so soft with me, and the cold look in his eyes is now gone. I like that. I can see myself liking him more and more. It seems my body already loves him.
I go back to my room, shower, and change into real clothes for the day. I do not know what to expect, so I wait…
I am… well—I am bored.
I need something to do besides stare at the television and through the windows into the city below me. Radimir has been gone for five long hours and I am ready to climb the walls.
At home with my father, I was given a guard, but allowed to do as I wished. I usually just met with friends or went to the spa. It wasn’t that I was some spoiled princess, because I wasn’t; it was that my father didn’t allow me to do things that normal girls my age did.
There were no clubs, no menial jobs, no boyfriends, and the friends I was allowed to hang around were chosen by my father. They were girls much like me. Prisoners.
The phone rings and I jump off of the sofa and run toward the sound. Grasping the handle in my hand, I will myself to calm down. I feel like one of those yappy dogs, waiting for a treat. I clear my throat, take a deep breath, and answer as calmly as I can.
“Kotik, how are you doing?” Radimir’s smooth, soft voice floats through the receiver.
I press my lips together. He is calling to check on me? I’m not sure if I am irritated or happy about this.
“I am all right, Radimir,” I state. He hums in the back of his throat.
“Just all right? What do you need, Emiliya?”
“I’m a little bored, to be honest. I cleaned up around the house, but I don’t know what to do with myself,” I admit.
I wait for him to become angry. I don’t wish to test him, but I am unsure about how to speak to him. Does he want the truth, or does he want me to tell him what he wishes to hear? To my surprise, he doesn’t become angry with me. Instead, he chuckles. The sound is surprising, and yet lovely to my ears.
“What would you like to do then, beautiful?” he asks. Beautiful. I like that, almost as much I like it when he calls me pussycat.
“I-I don’t know,” I admit.
“You have friends to call, yes?”
I don’t really want to see those friends. They are a reminder of my father, of my old life, and I don’t want to be around them, so I stay silent.
“How about I make arrangements and tomorrow you can help Haleigh, Maxim’s wife, with her shopping for the new baby,” he suggests.
I close my eyes and imagine the woman he is referring to—the beautiful blonde with the very loving and handsome husband. The woman whose husband looked at her as though she were the most precious thing on this planet. They were there last night, when Yakov shot and killed my father.
“Yes, if she needs my help, I will help,” I state.
I
don’t want to, not really. I am jealous of her. Haleigh has everything I desire in life, and I don’t want to spend a moment more than I have to around her radiantly happy smile, but I will do it. For Radimir, I will do whatever he wishes. I will follow directions.
“Good girl. I will be home by eight and have dinner delivered. Call me if you need me.” With that, the phone is dead. I hold it in my hand, the silence deafening.
Only five minutes have passed, but it seems like hours as I hold that phone in my hand just staring at it.
He called just to see how I was doing?
What type of man in his position does that?
My father certainly never had.
Maybe there is just a little bit more to Radimir than I imagined?
Maybe my brother was really looking out for my best interest when he left me in Radimir’s care?
I thought Yakov could have been turning into a younger version of my father, handing me off to a stranger. But now, after the few kindnesses Radimir has shown me, perhaps he truly was thinking of my best interest. Perhaps this was part of his plan all along?
Maybe I am not just a pawn in some game?
There are so many unanswered questions in my mind that it makes my head spin. I decide to lie down on the sofa and close my eyes, letting sleep overtake me, keeping all questions at bay for a moment longer.
“Nyet, this does not work for me, Maxim. I give you a job, you do it; this is how it works.” Radimir’s soft yet angry voice wakes me from my sleep.
My eye lids flutter open and I am shocked to see that he is sitting right next to me; his hand slowly trails up my arm and toward my neck to wrap around the back, placing pressure and massaging me.
“Do it, Maxim. Do not make me order this; do not make me pull rank, because I will. I understand you do not like doing these tasks, but they must be done or there will be chaos.”
Radimir’s face is hard and his eyes are cold and deadly. It sends a shiver through my body. He stops and moves into me closer, removing his suit jacket and placing it over me like a blanket, obviously concerned that I am cold.
The move is… well… it is sweet and I’m not sure what to do with that.
“You are more than employee, Maxim, you are trusted friend. I would not break this trust with you, but he is losing control and this is not good for business. Pasha will not do it because Pasha is too soft. It must be you.” He pauses, taking in a breath, and closes his eyes before speaking again.
“I send over Emiliya tomorrow to help Haleigh with preparations for the new baby girl. Take this time to talk to him, feel him out. Let me know your opinion and then we will devise a plan to act. Does this work for you?” he asks. A moment goes by before Radimir grunts then ends the call.
“Is everything all right?” I ask taking in his clenched jaw, his flexed muscles, and the rigid posture of his back. Radimir’s eyes shift over to me and I watch as the cold hard look melts away. He tips his lips in the slightest smile.
“Everything is good, kotik. Now that I am home—even better. Come, I ordered pasta for this evening,” he suggests with a small smile playing on his lips.
I smile at him and shift to sit up, wrapping his jacket around my shoulders before standing. Radimir is waiting a few feet from me, his fists clenched to his sides. I don’t comment on this. Instead, I slowly walk toward the breakfast room where I see plates, silverware, glasses, and cloth napkins have been set up. It almost looks romantic.
We sit down and Radimir pours a glass of red wine for each of us. I don’t understand this—any of it. My father never did things like this, intimate dinners, with any of his ladies. I have never seen a man do this before, outside of a movie.
I was always told that when I was to be married, or given to a man, that I would be in charge of the household. I would be concerned with serving him, being available for whatever he may need, and that included his meals along with everything else. This, the breakfast and now the dinner, I do not understand.
“Are you all right, Emiliya? Is everything to your liking?” he asks. My eyes snap up to his, my brows pinching together in confusion.
“I-I don’t understand,” I eventually state.
“What do you not understand?” he asks. His voice is so soft, yet low and rumbling. He sounds nothing like he did on the phone. A contradiction of hard and soft. It unnerves me how quickly he can change.
“All of this, why are you doing these things? Is it all a trick?” I ask.
I am so confused, so incredibly confused. Radimir straightens in his seat and then stands before walking over to me. I hold my breath, wondering what will come next. A beating, for sure. I insulted him and now I will pay. I am so stupid. Forever asking questions without thinking of the implications, the repercussions. A trait of mine my father hated, a trait he tried relentlessly to beat out of me.
“Stand,” he orders, his voice harsh.
I do as he demands, but on shaky, wobbly legs. I am trying to mentally prepare myself for what is to come my way.
Radimir’s hand lifts slightly and my eyes widen, but he doesn’t hurt me. Instead, he wraps it around my waist and pulls me into his hard chest. His other hand reaches the back of my head and wraps in my hair.
I can do nothing but focus on the beauty of his cool blue eyes and the depths I see in them. For the first time, they look kind, soft, open, and it is almost as if he is willing me to truly see him.
“Nothing I will do or say to you will be trickery. I will endeavor to be honest with you at all times, Emiliya. These things I do for you; they are just my way of taking care of you. I would love to have more with you, as I have already said, but in no way are you obligated to give me more than you have available to give. I take full care of what is mine, and sex or no sex, you are mine, kotik. I will take care of you. What kind of man would I be if I did not take great care of the woman in my life?”
I suck in my lips and try so very hard not to cry, because what he has said to me is absolutely beautiful. The way he is looking at me, like I am the only woman on this earth, it is stunning.
I slide my hands up his chest, feeling his bulky muscles tighten under my touch, and I slowly wrap them around his neck, pressing my breasts into his hard torso. I can feel my nipples harden, and my belly clenches when Radimir digs his fingers into my waist and tightens his grip in my hair.
Slowly, I rise to my toes and I bravely place a soft closed mouth kiss on his lips—once, twice—then one on his jaw, which is rough with stubble.
“Thank you, Radimir. The kindness and consideration you have shown me is more than I have ever known possible. I appreciate everything,” I murmur, watching as his eyes darken and his nostrils flare.
“Let us eat,” he rasps. It makes a shiver run through me.
I feel so warm and safe wrapped in his huge arms. I honestly don’t ever want him to let me go, but he does, and then we eat. Our conversation throughout dinner is light. He asks me about my time in France, and I ask him about Maxim and Haleigh, about their son and future daughter.
“They are your family, Emiliya. We have found out that Maxim is indeed your cousin,” he mentions. I gasp.
“Truly?” I ask.
I have never met any member of my family, outside of my grandfather. He was a horrible man, and I wanted to shout cheers of joy at his funeral, as sick as that sounds.
We finish our meal and I gather the dishes to take into the kitchen. I clean up, at my insistence; then, to my surprise, Radimir suggests that we watch a movie. He informs me that he has some work to do on his laptop, but he can sit in the room with me. Although, he doesn’t just sit in the room. He sits right next to me on the sofa while he types on his computer.
I end up leaning my head on his shoulder while tucking my feet underneath my body. About three quarters into the movie, he sets his computer down and wraps his arm around my shoulders, pulling me deeper into his side as he places a gentle kiss on the top of my head.
It is beautiful.
“Go on up to bed, kotik, you have a long day with Haleigh tomorrow. Ruslan will drive you and stay with you for protection while you are in the city,” he whispers softly.
I tip my head up to look at Radimir. He is focused on me, but his fingers are playing with the ends of my hair. I want to say so much to him.
I want to ask him to kiss me.
I want him to touch me, but it scares me.
He scares me.
“Yes, Radimir. What time should I be ready tomorrow?”
I am unsure of what else to say. I have never truly been kissed by a man. I don’t think I could stomach the embarrassment of asking him to kiss me, to really kiss me.
“I tell Ruslan to knock on the door around ten and he will take you,” he suggests. I nod and rise from the sofa.
I am obviously being dismissed, but my body wants to stay. I want Radimir to wrap me in his arms and hold me forever. The thought shocks me.
“Have sweet dreams, kotik,” he whispers. His hands leave my hair and his face turns from me, no longer taking me in—dismissing me.
Quietly, I walk away from where I truly want to be and toward my bedroom. I forego the expensive nightgown and slide on a tank top, choosing to sleep in just that and my panties. I close my eyes and will my body to be calm and relax.
I try not to think about how hot I felt with Radimir’s fingers playing in my hair, or how hard his body was when I was pressed to his side. I want more from him, and the thought frightens me. What is even scarier is the fact that, sometimes, I can see past his cold stare and into him. What I see is not all bad.
There is good in him. I am unsure of how much, but there is good.
Radimir is part of the Bratva, part of an organization that I was raised to fear. My father told me nightmares of the men, how they murdered, maimed and raped. How they sold children into lives of prostitution for their own financial gains. I wonder how Radimir can be associated with them. Could it be that my father lied? It wouldn’t surprise me in the least. He was a horrible man.
Seducing the Badman (Russian Bratva #2) Page 3