Would Roman be so lucky? It was ill-fated indeed that he was now facing a similar dilemma, although thankfully he was not married to Elena as Viktor had been married to Alexandra at the time of his suspicions. As a result, at least Roman had the opportunity to view the situation from a different angle.
He leaned back against the headboard of his bed and adjusted his computer to rest propped up on his knees. A few clicks brought him to the private network which housed the database he’d decided to try next. He typed in ‘Elena Popov’ and pressed enter, then waited for the computer to calculate results.
She was such an interesting woman, Roman thought. Gorgeous enough to be in Hollywood, with the sarcasm of a comedian and a mind for heavy books. He wanted to get to know her, and now it wasn’t solely to protect Viktor. He had found her likeable, helpful, and, despite her often catty approach, quite funny.
Roman ran a finger across his lips and remembered their kiss upon leaving the plane. Had she kissed him, or had he kissed her? His memory was foggy on those details, but the softness of her mouth and the taste of her lip gloss would forever be burned into his brain. Then, earlier today, they had shared another kiss. There was a strange playfulness and fire behind Elena’s eyes that captivated him.
Roman shook his head as though to shake away those thoughts. He needed to investigate Elena, to make sure he could dare to remember those kisses without further complicating things or even bringing shame upon himself. It was one thing to fall for a beautiful woman, but it was another entirely to fall for the daughter of the enemy.
The search page brought up a profile for Elena. Roman skimmed through her birthday, previous addresses, previous occupations, and family relations. She had a sister, Maya, which Roman had never heard mention of before. Her father, Anatoly, was a gunrunner who fronted as a real estate investor, but of course he’d already known that. Bitterness surged through Roman at the mere mention of Anatoly, who had poisoned Viktor’s father. Roman’s eyes lingered over the information for Elena’s mother, however.
Raisa Popov, Elena’s mom, was alive and in a nursing facility here in Boston. Roman’s eyebrows raised. Hadn’t Elena said her mother was dead? Why would she lie about such a thing?
But Roman distinctly remembered her words during their engine emergency on the plane. She had cussed at him, he had asked if she kissed her mother with that mouth, and Elena had shouted that her mother was dead.
Roman clicked on the name, Raisa Popov. The information had last been updated fairly recently, and even gave the address for Croft Estates, the assisted living facility where Raisa currently resided. Her status was listed as ‘living’ and there was even a photo of the woman— a pale, thin woman with heavily lidded eyes. Despite the age gap, he could even see the resemblance.
There was no question that Elena’s mother was alive.
Roman pursed his lips and stared at the screen. His thoughts engulfed him. Elena had never mentioned having a sister, but that was relatively easy to pass off; Maya had never come up in conversation. It was Raisa who troubled him.
Elena had outright lied. It was a small lie, yes, but still a lie. Roman couldn’t allow his newfound feelings of affection for Elena to cloud his judgement. His goal, his mission, was to keep Viktor and the Sokolov mansion safe. And if she would lie about something which seemed so inconsequential, at least in relation to the Sokolovs… what else would she lie about?
No matter how much Roman liked Elena, he had to remain true to both himself and Viktor. Something so small as Elena’s lie about her mother was not immediate proof of anything nefarious, and certainly not worth troubling Viktor with just yet, but Roman needed to do something with his newfound information. He tapped his fingers on the blanket next to him and shifted his weight in bed. Bringing up her lie in casual conversation would give her the opportunity to play it off. If he wanted any chance at all of confession, he would have to hit Elena with his discovery about her mother when she wasn’t expecting it.
A glance at the lower right side of his laptop screen revealed it was almost two in the morning. Alexandra, Elena, and Viktor had all gone to bed around ten. With any luck, Elena would be long asleep right now. Bursting into her room and confronting her with her lie would be the best way to catch her off-guard, but was that too much?
Roman considered his options as he scrolled through Elena’s page in the database again. She had an August birthday—a Leo in astrology, if he remembered correctly—and had lived in Boston for nearly her entire life. She had a background in ballet, which made sense because of her long, elegant legs, and she was a voracious reader according to her library catalog. She’d been at the top of her class in college but never graduated. That was strange, too, but people dropped out all the time. After her time at a university, he found a smattering of detail offering her work at various jobs; she’d been a waitress, a secretary, and even done a short stint as a model.
He slammed his laptop shut. The more he read, the less certain he felt and the harder it was to focus. There wasn’t anything in Elena’s file which stood out as suspicious except for her mother. If Roman wanted any chance of getting straight answers, and any chance of getting to sleep that night, he was going to have to confront her right now.
Sighing, Roman set his computer aside and rolled out of bed. He pulled on a plain navy-blue pajama set, stretched, and padded down the hall to Elena’s guest bedroom. A combination of trepidation, remorse, and anger set his teeth on edge. It had been a long time since Roman had been in touch with his emotions, and the fact that Elena brought so many feelings to the surface made dealing with the situation even harder.
Outside her bedroom door, he took a deep breath in, and regained his aloof façade. The door swung open and Roman burst inside, flicking on the light and closing the door harshly behind him.
“Get up!” he growled at her.
8
Elena
Elena mumbled in her sleep. She heard someone talking, but her mind hadn’t fully roused from slumber yet. Hair fanned across the pillow, a satin sleep mask over her eyes, she flopped over in bed, still only vaguely conscious.
“Elena Popov, get up.”
She’d heard the voice again. Sleep faded and reality slowly crept back in to take its place. She tugged the sleep mask up and blinked a few times. Why was it so bright? When she scanned the room, she saw that the light was on and Roman was standing at the foot of her bed. It must have been him speaking, she realized.
“Hmm?” She stared at him with heavy eyelids. “Don’t tell me we have another errand to go on,” she mumbled. Even half-asleep, her sarcasm shone through as she blinked at Roman tiredly and then lay her head back on the pillow—she really was too tired to deal with him right now.
“You lied to me,” Roman said with a rigid tone. He crossed his arms, posture stiff, and glared at her.
Groaning, she pulled herself up to a seated position, blinked herself awake, and stared back at him. “One, no, I didn’t. And two, it’s late.” She had intended to snap at him, but her voice was still clogged with exhaustion and had come out flatly instead. Jet lag was a bitch. She glanced to the LED display of the alarm clock on the nightstand. “It’s late, Roman. Really late. Come back tomorrow after I’ve had my beauty sleep.”
Leaving him to exit on his own, she dropped back down on her pillow. She pulled her sleep mask back on, then rolled onto her side. Maybe if she ignored him, he would just go away.
“You said your mother was dead, but I just found out she’s alive and well in a nursing home. Why did you lie to me?” Roman demanded.
What? Elena’s breath caught as she heard him take another step closer to the bed. What game was he playing? And how could he think that was something to joke about? She sighed and opened her mouth to tell him off a little less politely, and then suddenly she realized that he hadn’t sounded like he’d been playing with her at all. He’d sounded dead serious.
But that couldn’t be right… Her mother was long dead, and she c
ertainly knew that better than he could.
Elena sat up again and tossed her sleep mask onto the pillow beside her. “Um, no, Roman, she’s not. And how dare you?” Her eyes narrowed. “My mom died when I was fourteen, and whatever sort of super-secret spy trick you’re trying to use on me, at freaking two a.m., it’s not cool. It’s not okay, either, to bring my mother into it.”
Roman stared at her without backing down, and she glared back.
“Why would you lie about something like that?” Roman asked slowly.
“Are you kidding me right now, Roman? I’m not lying, for fuck’s sake!” She half-heartedly tossed a pillow at him and sat on the edge of the bed, her feet touching the floor.
“Then why do I have a recent photo of her and an address for an assisted living facility in Boston, where she is a registered patient?”
Elena felt like someone had tackled her and knocked the air out of her chest. “You… you have what?”
She stared at him, wide-eyed, and then she began to tremble. Had she not just spent the past two days running errands with Roman and gotten to know him, and had she not seen first-hand that he was truly an honest, hardworking, loyal soul, she wouldn’t have believed him. But Roman had no reason to lie, and the baffled look on his face now told Elena everything she needed to know.
“My mother… is alive?” she whispered. The pain of the realization gripped her heart in a vice and she felt tears on her cheeks before she even knew she was crying. A few dry swallows and a deep breath helped her pull herself together, but not by much, and her mind was still stumbling forward, ricocheting between thinking he had to be wrong, or that she really did, still, have her mother.
“You didn’t know,” Roman said blankly. It was a statement rather than a question, and Elena saw a pained expression tighten on his handsome features. She didn’t bother to respond, focusing on reining in her tears as he continued, “She was admitted to Croft Estates about nine years ago, according to my research. That… that would have been about the time you said she died, right?”
“Yes.” Elena looked up at him, bleary-eyed and dizzy with shock. “Your research… did you find out how she was admitted?”
Roman’s mouth twitched and uncertainty played over his face. He moved to sit on the bed next to her, and offered a comforting hand. Elena took it without question and squeezed his fingers for reassurance. Only after her tears slowed did Roman speak.
“Your father admitted her,” he said.
The bottom fell out of Elena’s stomach, and the room spun anew. She began to shake now, violently, and the tears began again before she could even think to hold herself together.
“My dad?” she asked in a hushed tone—it sounded more like the voice she’d had as a child than the confident one she was known for now.
“Yes.” Roman tilted her chin up with a finger and looked into her eyes. Within those dark grey pools, she saw calm patience, shared pain, and the need to console her—it was a new distraction, and her eyes got lost in his. His mouth pursed, as though he couldn’t find the right words, and a long silence passed between them before he finally spoke again.
“I’m so sorry, Elena. I didn’t know. I thought… I thought you were trying to deceive me, and couldn’t have imagined that you didn’t know. I’m so sorry. So, so sorry.” The remorse in his voice was genuine, and Elena instantly forgave him.
Her father, on the other hand, was a different story. When Elena had been fourteen, she and her sister had gone on a trip to Europe with a chaperone while her parents had stayed home, preparing to move to a new house. Then, her father had called, and that’s when she’d found out her mother had died. Between her and her sister being in Europe and the move, they’d put off having a funeral for her mother. It wasn’t until now that Elena realized exactly why her father had been so adamant about focusing on their move instead of having a funeral for her mother.
“I can’t believe… he would do that.” Elena sniffled and wiped her eyes before continuing. “My mom struggled with MS for years and was starting to get bad, back then, but I can’t believe he would just put her in a nursing home and lie to us! Who does that?”
“Your father is an evil man,” Roman said quietly. “But you can’t blame yourself. You were deceived. As painful as that is, especially when it was someone so close to you who hurt you, it isn’t your fault. All you can do is continue doing what you believe to be right, in this moment, here and now.” He reached over and swept the hair out of her face, his touch leaving pinpricks on her skin.
Before he could pull away, she clasped his hand to the side of her face, relishing the contact.
Roman’s words about deception and betrayal were a cruel reminder of what she had been sent here to do. But after learning about her father’s own deception, she couldn’t be so sure that she was willing to carry through with her mission at all. There was too much to think about, to consider, for her to answer those questions now.
“Stay with me,” she said softly, glancing to his eyes. Their gazes locked, and pinpricks of pleasure spread through Elena’s chest and down her spine like dainty, glimmering diamonds spilled across a table.
Gradually, both drew nearer to each other. Roman’s mouth met Elena’s. The hand on her face slipped downward, to her neck, as the kiss deepened. She let go of his fingers and instead turned to fully face him and wrap her arms around his neck.
Tongue moved against tongue. She was hungry for him now. They both shifted on the bed, their bodies closer than ever. With her only wearing a satin nightgown, and him in cotton pajamas, she could feel the delicious warmth rise from their bodies. So near, she smelled the spiced, masculine aroma of his skin and delighted in the taste of his mouth.
Memories of how calm and controlled he had been during their terrifying flight joined his soothing embrace now, and Elena felt her heart lift despite the shocking news about her mother. But he’d brought her that gift, that news, and now he was here with her, closer than ever.
As though sensing her need, he pressed against her in turn. Their faces continued the rhythm of their kiss. Heat flushed her skin.
Her breath caught in her throat as arousal flooded her. Her hands journeyed from around his neck, down his strong chest, to find that he, too, was aroused. His cock throbbed under its cotton confines, growing harder with each beat of his heart.
When her fingertips brushed the tip of his burgeoning erection, he moaned gently against her mouth. The sensation was incredible, and Elena wanted more. She pressed their mouths together, teeth clacking against teeth as the kiss intensified.
The slow motions of their lips grew almost frenzied. With her eyes squeezed shut, Elena’s world was all sensation and no vision. She sucked against his mouth and he against hers. While her hands traced the outline of his cock, his roamed downward from her neck, along her sides, to grasp at her hips and pull her closer still. His motions were controlled and steady, just like his demeanor—everything about him a far cry from the handsy, somewhat clumsy flings she’d had in the past.
Elena broke the kiss to whisper against his neck, “I want you.”
This man who had so vexed her and annoyed her had quickly become a source of strength and calm for her. Elena was captivated by him.
She glanced down between them to carefully tug his erection from the loose fly of his pajama pants. Carefully, she wrapped her hand around his shaft to stroke him.
Her hand worked a slow, teasing rhythm. Roman’s hips began to work in time to her movements. Just as she leaned down to take him into her mouth, he put a hand under her chin and lifted her to face him instead.
“You’ve been through a lot, and you still need time to process. I don’t think right now is the right time, Elena.” He pulled back suddenly and rose, tucking his dick back into his pants as he stood.
Elena was still in a nearly dreamy state, intoxicated by their hot and heavy make-out session. She craved his body, startling news aside, and huffed in displeasure.
“No
, Roman, please. Stay.” She pouted up at him, not able to believe that he could just leave after how far they’d just come. But, as before, and as always, Roman didn’t relent to her whims.
“Right now isn’t the right time for this,” he told her gently, his eyes on hers. “But I promise you that, no matter what you decide to do about your mom, I’ll be there to help you.”
Before she could argue, the door was closing behind him. A fresh wave of emotion rose from her chest and threatened to drown her in its tumult.
She flung herself backward onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling, thoughts whirling. When her blood cooled, and Roman’s eyes left her mind, the night’s revelations hit her all over again.
“Damn you, Dad. Damn you for what you’ve done to our family. For lying to me and Maya. For letting Mom rot in a nursing home.” Elena flipped herself sideways on the bed and hugged a pillow tightly to her chest. Then, her tears spilled freely, soaking the white pillowcase.
She decided she would defect, after all—for real this time. Her father’s betrayal left no questions about where she belonged.
9
Roman
The next morning, Roman’s alarm clock woke him from a fitful sleep. He roused from slumber only to find himself harder than he could ever remember being—after a night of dreaming about Elena.
Taking a longer shower than usual did little enough to calm his rattled thoughts, but it made him presentable. Yet, he didn’t know what he’d do when he saw her.
While he snagged a plate of eggs for breakfast and poured himself a mug of hot coffee—two creams and two sugars as always—he reviewed the day’s tasks only to realize that today was Saturday and his duties were practically non-existent. Viktor was home for a scheduled day with Alexandra, there were no meetings or errands that needed attention, and so Roman found himself without anyone to drive anywhere.
The Sokolov Brothers: The Complete Series Page 15