by Daiko, SC
Taras chucked his daughter under the chin. “So, you’re going to turn eleven years old?” he teased.
She puffed herself up to her full height. “Twelve, Papa, how could you forget?!”
He laughed, and I laughed with him. “Only kidding, myshka,” he winked.
Whoa, is this the same man I first met barely three weeks ago?
I peered at him from under my lashes. His habitual scowl had disappeared. I dared allow myself a glimmer of hope he’d started to behave like a proper father to Emma. She deserved his love. Even if he couldn’t or wouldn’t find room in his heart for me, at least I’d have achieved what I set out to do, which was help bring the two of them closer together.
“I’m going up to my room for a while,” I said, pushing back my chair. “Then, if Oleg can take me to the station, I’ll ride the midday train to New York.”
“Aw, can I come with you?” Emma’s question took me by surprise, and I couldn’t think of an immediate answer.
“It’s Zoe’s day off,” Taras interjected. “Maybe another time?”
“You’ll let me go visit the city with her?” Emma’s eyes widened.
Taras smiled indulgently. “Provided I accompany you, of course.”
Again, I stared at him. Where had the old Taras gone? I shook my head in disbelief as I made my way upstairs.
* * *
I found the same bench as last Sunday; despite the park being busy, and I sat myself down. I glanced around to spot if Taras and his men were in the vicinity, but all I could see were joggers or people queuing for hot dogs.
They’ll be around here somewhere, I reassured myself, taking out my phone and pretending to scroll my messages.
A jogger was approaching.
Justin Ward.
I quickly tapped the record icon before he could notice and returned the cell to my pocket.
“Glad you took my advice,” Ward’s smarmy voice purred as he lowered himself onto the bench next to me.
“Didn’t have much choice, did I?” I huffed in fake indignation.
He stank so much of body odor I wanted to gag. I swallowed the lump of revulsion in my throat.
Smirking, he asked me how I was, to which I replied that I was fine. Then, once the people milling around us had moved away, he leaned in, a hand on one knee like last week, and said, “Taras Melekhov just returned from a trip to Caracas. We’d like to know who he met with.”
Taras would never divulge that. And even if he told me, I’d rather die than reveal the information. But I needed to string Justin Ward along, so instead of recoiling I said sweetly, “If I manage to find out, then will you guarantee I can continue looking after his daughter until the end of my six-month contract?”
“I guarantee it,” he smirked.
Time to put on the performance of your life, Zoe.
I glanced at him, brushed a fake tear from my cheek.
“I so love looking after his little girl.” My voice wobbled. “I’ll do anything to keep my job.”
“Bring me the information next Sunday, and, once we’ve verified it, not only will you be able to carry on working for Taras, but you’ll also be one hundred grand richer.”
Words failed me; I could only nod.
“I trust you’ll keep this to yourself,” Ward’s gaze raked over me, “if you know what’s good for you.”
His threat made my skin crawl, and I avoided eye contact with him. “Don’t worry. I won’t say a word.”
“Atta girl,” he got to his feet. “See ya next week.”
He pushed his shades up his narrow nose and started jogging down the path.
I blew out a pent-up breath.
Good riddance.
Without warning, my cell phone rang.
“Well done,” Taras’ voice echoed in my ear. “I’m so proud of you. Don’t speak. You never know who else is in the vicinity. Pretend this is a wrong number and disconnect. We’ll be watching over you all the way home.”
My entire body sagged with relief that Taras really was close-by. I couldn’t resist smiling because he was pleased with me. With trembling fingers, I returned the cell to my pocket, hitched my bag onto my shoulder, and started strolling toward the Central Park West exit.
I stepped through the gates.
From nowhere, a pair of hands grabbed me, and the sour stench of Justin Ward’s sweat assailed my nostrils.
“Not so fast, Missy,” his voice growled in my ear. “Give me your phone!”
I held back a scream and kicked at his shins, but he was too strong for me and was holding me in a vise-like grip.
Where the hell was Taras?
Justin Ward wrenched the cell from my pocket, glowered at it and snarled, “Just as I thought, a Spy App.”
Probably realizing that I was being watched over, he glanced around nervously, his hold on me relaxing enough for me to wriggle free.
I prepared to run, but Taras was there, blocking my path. He wrapped his arms around me, and my knees buckled, I buried my face in his rock-hard chest. “I’ve got you, rybka.” His deep melodic voice vibrated against my bones. “You are safe.”
I turned to find out what had happened to Ward.
He was surrounded by a group of men.
Taras’ men.
“Come with me,” Taras said, leading me away from the scene. “You did good. My boyeviks will deal with so-called Justin Ward now.”
“What will they do to him?” I blurted out.
His green eyes locked onto my blues. “You don’t need to worry about that.”
Defiantly, I pushed his shoulder. “Will they kill him?”
“I said it wasn’t your concern,” he snapped.
His brittle tone sparked flames of anger inside my gut, and I gave him another push.
“I’ve put myself in danger for you, Taras. I think you owe it to me to be honest.”
He stared at me, an incredulous expression on his face as Oleg brought the limo to a stop by the curb.
I wrenched the door open. My anger following me like a shadow, I climbed into the back.
Taras folded his tall frame onto the seat next to me. “You want me to be honest, rybka?” He rubbed his forehead. “Be careful what you ask for.”
He gave me a look of such despair, my heart ripped in my chest.
Chapter Seventeen
Taras
Her topaz eyes were deep pools of sympathy.
But I didn’t want her sympathy; I wanted her anger. Her anger was raw and real and what I deserved.
I should never have put her in that position.
She leaned into me, and I let her. Let her fingers stroke my wrist. Let her press a kiss to my jaw.
With a groan I captured her mouth, my tongue seeking domination. I licked the corners and then sucked on her lower lip. She writhed her goddess body against mine, and I enjoyed her responsiveness momentarily before pulling away.
“I’m indebted to you for what you did.” I stared out the tinted window at the busy city streets, gathering my thoughts. “You were incredibly brave.”
So different than Nina.
The thought came from nowhere, surprising me.
“And I was rude to you,” I added.
“You hurt my feelings,” Zoe said quietly.
Her voice sounded tearful. My belly twisted with something akin to pain. I turned and raked my gaze over her lovely face, but there were no unshed tears in her eyes.
Good.
She wasn’t a crier.
Again, unlike Nina.
“I’m sorry for my behavior.” I bent and brushed a soft kiss to her cheek. “I was mad at myself. Shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”
“Why were you mad?” she asked bluntly.
“For not stopping Justin Ward before he got to you.” I fisted my hands, and my fingernails bit into my palms. “If the park hadn’t been so crowded, I’d have gotten my men to pick him up no questions asked.”
She stared me straight in the eyes. “What will ha
ppen to him?” Another forthright question.
“Depends on whether he’ll fess up straight away…”
“Your men will torture him?” her voice shook.
I placed my forehead against hers and whispered. “You really want to know?”
She blinked rapidly.
“Please share with me, Taras. I deserve to know the truth about you.”
“My truth is what nightmares are made of.” I averted my gaze.
She placed her hands on the sides of my face, turning my head so she could lock her eyes with mine. “Let me be the judge of that.”
Haltingly, I told her about Papa being a high-ranking member of the Vory before his assassination. How my future changed after Ruslan was killed and Mama died. How Nina’s grandfather took me under his wing.
“Sounds as if you were the victim of circumstances, not a perpetrator,” she furrowed her brow.
“It wasn’t as if I didn’t have a choice, rybka.” I pulled in a deep breath and let it out. “I could have chosen a different path, but once I was inducted into the life, I found myself enjoying it. Enjoying the power, the wealth. I even developed a taste for blood. Does that shock you?”
She shook her head but lowered her gaze.
Of course, she was shocked.
She was a nice girl.
I. Should. Not. Defile. Her.
“I think you already know what will happen to Justin Ward.” My words sounded strained to my ears. “I don’t need to spell it out for you.”
“No, you don’t,” she hung her beautiful head.
I hooked my finger under her chin, lifting it so I could read her expression. The action was fast becoming habitual as far as Zoe and I were concerned.
She looked devastated.
Fuck!
“Do you want to quit working for me? I wouldn’t blame you if you did,” I bit out.
“I’m not a quitter,” she came right back at me. “I won’t give up on Emma.” She lifted her hand and stroked a trembling finger down the side of my face. “And I won’t give up on you, either.” She smiled softly, the shock disappearing from her eyes. “Whether you like it or not.”
I liked it.
I liked her.
I liked her far too much.
With a groan I drew her into my arms and held her close. She snuggled against me, her breaths slowing.
Soon, I realized she’d fallen asleep. Probably for the best, as I’d been on the point of telling her how I felt. A big mistake. There could be no future for the two of us. Not the kind of future she deserved. And I wouldn’t inflict anything less on her.
I let her sleep until we arrived home. She woke up and went straight to her room. Zoe was plainly exhausted, so I sent Mrs. Konin up with a tray of food for her.
My footsteps dragging, I went to my office and closed the door. Then I took out my phone and rang Demyan to ask for an update on Justin Ward.
Zoe
Taras was playing the cello after dinner. I was in my bedroom; I’d spent the rest of the day up here, sleeping before trying to chill… the latter without much success. I’d been going over the events of this afternoon in my mind again and again, trying to put things into perspective.
One thing was certain, I was in deep with the Bratva Boss.
It was wrong.
All wrong.
So, why did it feel so right?
Taras was a monster; he killed people or at least ordered them to be killed. He was dangerous, a criminal.
And I loved him.
Mum once told me we don’t choose who we fall in love with; love chooses us. She also quoted the adage that love is blind. You don’t see a person’s imperfections when you love them, you love them warts and all.
I sat by my window, listening to him play a range of cello covers of popular music, fighting with myself not to go and join him. Finally, he launched into The Chainsmokers and Coldplay’s Something Just Like This and I could resist no more. It was another of my favorite songs.
I quickly put on some lip gloss, rushed downstairs and pushed open the door to his room.
“Zoe,” he stopped playing.
I was suddenly a tad awkward and shuffled from one foot to the other.
“Stand over there,” he pointed with his bow toward the center of the room, “and we’ll take it from the top.”
The simple lyrics about not wanting fairy tale bliss in a relationship rang true to me. We arrived at the end of the final verse, our eyes eating each other with primal need. Our bodies seemed to pull the air between us like an invisible, powerful magnet so strong was our attraction.
He lifted his cello onto its stand and returned to his chair.
Slowly, his gaze on me, he unzipped his fly and his beautiful dick sprang free.
I licked my lips.
“Do you want my cock, rybka?”
I could only nod.
“Come here,” he indicated to the space where he’d held his cello between his legs.
I shuffled forward and dropped down on my knees.
Smiling, I wrapped my hand around the base of his shaft and swallowed it down as deeply as possible. The urge to gag assailed me, and I pulled away to trace the bulging veins with my tongue, running it up and down the silky-smooth length.
“Yes, like that, my sweet,” he moaned.
His balls enticed me, and I gently sucked them, one after the other. He released another moan, and my heart swelled with pride at the effect I was having on him.
His hand slid around my neck to hold me just where he wanted me, and I swallowed him again. I lifted my gaze and our eyes locked while he fucked my mouth.
I let him take me as deep as he wanted. He thrust into me over and over, his breath coming in short pants as he bucked his hips forward. Unleashing a final groan, he tensed and spasmed. Proudly, I gulped down his warm salty cum.
He pulled me to him, and our lips met in a delicious kiss that tasted of him.
“Raise your arms, rybka.”
I did as he asked, and he lifted my tee. He unclipped my bra, dropping it on the table next to his chair. He bent and licked between my breasts. Then he sucked my left tit into his mouth, swirling his tongue expertly around my nipple before biting down on it. I whimpered with pleasure.
“Undress me, Zoe,” he requested abruptly, getting to his feet.
I made short work of taking off his shoes and socks. Holding his eyes, I slid down his dress pants and briefs while he removed his shirt himself.
God, he was beautiful. I wanted to crawl into him.
With a growl, he pulled me close, kissing and sucking his way up and down my neck and shoulders.
I wriggled out of my shorts and panties, unashamed to stand naked before him.
He lifted me and carried me over to the bed. “Climb on top of me, rybka. Sit on my face and move your wet pussy all over it. I want to eat you out until you come.”
My skin flushed with excitement. No one had ever talked as dirty as that to me before now, and I freaking loved it.
My entire body shook as he inhaled my scent like it was a heady perfume. “Fuck, you smell good,” he rasped.
He pulled me down onto his mouth, capturing me with his greedy tongue.
I writhed against him, losing myself to the sensations. My head fell back, and I arched my spine.
He gripped my hips and sucked on my clit until I exploded. “Ahhh!”
I rode out my orgasm shamelessly grinding myself onto his face.
With a grunt, he rolled me onto my back. He got on top and, opening my legs wide, plunged into me. “So beautifully tight, Zoe.”
He started slamming and pounding my pussy in a frenzy, grunting, chasing his release.
Every time his body touched my clit, I squirmed underneath him, biting my lip to stop myself from climaxing too soon.
He fucked me until the muscles of his shoulders and neck began to strain.
Bellowing like the beast that he was, he exploded, and I instantly came with him, laid bare
, my heart wide open.
He was still spasming inside me when I whispered, “I love you.”
I grasped his chin and turned it until his gaze met mine. ‘It’s okay, Taras. You don’t have to say it back.”
His stare was forlorn, and I wondered what had brought such despair to his eyes. Then he took my lips, his kiss so full of adoration and tenderness that immediately I knew.
It was his way of telling me what he couldn’t or wouldn’t let himself say out loud.
Taras Melekhov loved me.
I smiled into his powerful neck.
It was enough.
For now.
Chapter Eighteen
Zoe
This morning I didn’t need to wake Emma. She woke before me and came bounding into my bedroom, giggling with anticipation. It was a good thing I thought this might happen and had snuck back upstairs in time. Taras was still asleep when I’d left him, his arm looped around me, and I’d had to extricate myself carefully.
“Happy Birthday, poppet.” I held my arms out to Emma and she came straight into them. I planted a kiss on her cheek before reaching for the gift I’d wrapped and left on my nightstand.
She ripped off the paper excitedly. “Wow, a CD,” she stared at my mum’s signature on the cover. “I don’t know Eleri Thomas. Who is she?”
“I’ve known her all my life,” I smiled. “She’s my mum.”
“Oh. My. God. I can’t believe it,” Emma bounced up and down on my bed. “You’re the daughter of a celeb.”
“She’s not that well known here in the States,” I chuckled. “But she has quite a following in the UK and Europe.”
“Wait till I tell Papa,” Emma beamed. “He’ll be stoked.”
I laughed, swinging my legs from under the sheets. “I expect he knows. He’ll have found out everything there was to find out about me before trusting me to look after you.”
She nodded, thoughtfully. “He likes you, Zoe.”
My cheeks burned. Emma wasn’t stupid. She must have picked up on the energy crackling between her father and me.
Best change the subject.
“Go to your room and get dressed, poppet. Mrs. Konin will be waiting for us,” I said in my Mary Poppins voice.