Andrei (Quintessence Book 7)

by Serena Akeroyd

  “You need breakfast,” he countered. “Doesn’t she, Tin?”

  “Mama, you do!” Tin chirped, and Andrei wasn’t ashamed at using their almost three-year-old to coerce her into eating. “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”

  The way he parroted the words was pure Sawyer. The kid even rolled the ‘r’s in ‘breakfast’ and ‘important.’

  Sascha grumbled, “No fair.”

  “I can’t show you how naughty it is not to eat breakfast with little eyes and ears watching and listening. But remember what I said last night? It comes with rules, Sascha.”

  There was a low warning to the words that, surprisingly enough, had her inhaling a rough gasp of air. “O-Okay?”

  He cocked a brow at her. “Okay?” That was it? No more arguments?

  Jesus, she’d enjoyed last night more than he’d credited.

  She nodded. “Strawberry, please.”

  He smiled at her, satisfaction roaring through him as he spread the preserve over the bread. It wasn’t even a victory on his part. He’d manipulated her via Tin, but someday soon she’d come to understand what he meant when he said he’d be taking care of her.

  She didn’t know how he could be when he was in this zone. Submissives weren’t alone in having a mindset. Doms had them, too. And Andrei took his responsibilities seriously. Always had, and that was before the love of his life had kneeled before him yesterday evening.

  Sascha truly didn’t realize what she’d brought into the open, he feared.

  Andrei swallowed as he leveled the jam neatly and evenly, covering the slice up to each corner. When it was perfect, he cut it into squares, then began working on the next slice.

  After it was just so, he lifted the plate and handed it to her. As he did, he saw she’d been watching him, her eyes wide.

  “What?” he enquired.

  “I didn’t know you were so exacting.”

  Because he tried not to be. He didn’t want to be a control freak. And yet, what Sascha wanted from him would stir those feelings into being once more.

  He liked everything just so, but living with four men, a woman, and a small boy didn’t always allow for that. Now? Sascha had invited this side of his nature to the party and Andrei was certain he was pleased about that.

  There was no reply worth giving her, so he just studied her, ensuring she took a bite of her breakfast. It wasn’t as healthy as he’d have liked, but it was something.

  “What are you doing today?” he asked her, trying to take his mind off things he couldn’t control. Yet.

  “I’m going to take Tin for a walk. He wants to see the fish in the park.”

  “It’s freezing outside,” he stated, peering out of the French doors onto their small back yard. “And I’m Russian. I know what freezing is.”

  Her lips curved in that Mona Lisa smile that could bring him to his knees. “Some fresh air will do us good. Tin’s been cooped up like a hen, haven’t you, baby?”

  When Tin began to cluck, Andrei chuckled as he reached for his coffee. “Tell me when you go out, and I’ll come with you.”

  “Nope,” she told him, her tone cheerful. “I already know you have appointments today. Last night doesn’t change things to that extent, Andrei. You still have things to do, and I still have a life to lead. You don’t need to watch over me at all times.”

  Didn’t he?

  Because he knew he was being ridiculous, he nodded in agreement. “Okay.” He wasn’t the only one feeling as wobbly as a newborn foal taking their first steps.

  “I thought there’d be more of an argument,” she retorted, surprise lacing her tone.

  “Disappointed?” he asked drily.

  “No. Just shocked.”

  “I want to take care of you, not smother you. You’re right. You can handle a walk.”

  “I’m glad I have your vote of confidence,” she jibed, but her grin, when it appeared, was like the sun shining through the clouds on a grim day.

  “Always, katyonok,” he purred, reaching over the table for her hand. When she slipped her fingers through his, they both squeezed, and Andrei breathed a sigh of relief.

  Today was the first day of a change of direction in their relationship. Whichever path it took them down, as long as they were together, he knew they’d be okay.

  She was his vtoraya polovinka.

  His soulmate.

  There was no alternative for them than to find the path they needed. That was how it worked with soulmates.

  “Staring at the pond will do you no good.”

  Jumping a little, Sascha looked at Devon who’d taken a seat at her side. “What are you doing here?”

  “I like it here.”

  “Since when?” she asked, her tone somewhat suspicious. Not because she didn’t believe him, but because Devon’s answers sometimes felt about as relevant as a mouse at the dining table.

  “Since Glasgow.”

  She stiffened but relaxed immediately. “Ah.”

  “Yes. Ah.”

  “Do you like the water?” she asked, curious as to why he’d been coming into the gardens when he’d never been interested before.

  The communal park wasn’t overly large, but it was enough. The land belonged to the neighborhood and was locked, with each resident having a set of keys to permit them entry and to keep ‘hooligans’ out. Well, that was what Mrs. Berringer had declared at the last Neighborhood Watch meeting anyway.

  Sascha hated locking herself inside. It just felt a bit too much like the Secret Garden, and while that was cool in the movie, in real life, it felt weird to lock oneself into an outdoor space.

  Probably the size of two tennis courts stacked side by side, most of the vicinity was taken up by a large pond that contained koi fish. That was where Tin was. He was less than five feet away from her, near enough for her to grab if he happened to fall in, but it wasn’t likely. There was a low stone wall around the pond, but a larger glass barrier kept children from falling into the murky liquid—or, she thought drily, to stop little hands from trying to catch the fish.

  She had no fear of Tin hurting himself in its depths. He’d been in deeper baths!

  Still, the darting of gold seemed to ensnare him, and when she wanted some quiet time, this was always the place to go as the fish kept him occupied while her brain could float away.

  There were several benches dotted here and there, and the garden itself was shrouded with trees and bushes that made the park feel quite intimate, she supposed. Almost like an external sitting room.

  It surprised her that Devon liked it here, though, considering his preferences seemed to be his office, whichever bed she was sleeping in, and the kitchen, those were pretty much his go-to destinations.

  “I didn’t know you’d been popping out to sit here.” Something else that shocked her. She wondered if Sawyer knew, and if he did, why hadn’t he told her?

  “I like it. Helps me think.”

  “Me, too,” she murmured quietly, and releasing a breath, she moved closer to him and rested her head on his shoulder. When his head tilted to the side and rested on hers, her lips curved as she watched Tin stare into the pond. “I’m surprised it hasn’t frozen over.”

  “It’s not cold enough for that.”

  “It frigging feels like it,” she grumbled—wrapped up in the quilted peacoat he’d bought her as well as thick gloves, hat, jeans, and a sweater, she wasn’t exactly warm and toasty.

  “Well, that’s because you run the house hotter than a furnace.”

  She snorted. “I don’t.”

  “You do. It’s about five degrees hotter than we used to have it.”

  “No way.”

  “Way.”

  Puffing out her cheeks, she just shrugged. “I get cold.”

  “I imagine you do.” He hummed under his breath, and the tune pricked her attention.

  “What’s that?”

  “A Nocturne by Chopin. I was listening to it earlier.”

  Curioser an
d curioser. “You don’t listen to classical music often, Devon. Are you okay?”

  “Of course. I was bored with the silence. Tin wasn’t in my office. I’m used to his chatter now.”

  That about melted her damn heart. Could such an admission be any cuter? “You like him being there? I wasn’t sure if he was a nuisance or not.”

  “Oh, he is, but I love him for it anyway,” he replied, his tone cheerful, and goddammit if that didn’t make her love him a little bit more. Which should have been impossible, because she loved the difficult, stubborn jerk like crazy.

  “Is that why you came out here? Because you saw us head for the garden?”

  “Yes. But I like it here,” he said again. “It helps clear my mind.”

  Because she could only imagine the shit that went through said mind, she didn’t comment on that. “Devon?”

  “Yes.”

  “You know Andrei’s managed to clear it, so you don’t have a record?”

  He tensed a little. “Yes.”

  “Do you feel guilty about that?”

  They’d never talked about what had happened, why Devon had assaulted a stranger when it was so out of character, and it seemed strange to her now. Why hadn’t they discussed it?

  She’d guarantee he’d discussed it with the other guys, just not her. But she was his partner. Shouldn’t he share crap like that with her? And, mad as it might be, this was the first time she’d really been able to talk to him without Tin listening in, or one of the guys around.

  She wanted to discuss this with him alone, and here, in the quiet gardens, it felt like a good time.

  “Do you want the truth?” he asked, his tone cautious enough to make her withhold a smile.

  “Of course. Why would I want a lie?”

  “Some people prefer lies.”

  “When have I ever?”

  He shrugged. “Then, no. I don’t feel guilty. He deserved it.”

  “Why?” His strident tone surprised the hell out of her. “Why did he deserve it? You didn’t know him, did you?”

  “No. But he knew me.”

  There was a woodenness to the words that garnered her attention. “What do you mean?”

  Silence. “Nothing.”

  “Devon. Don’t be silly. Tell me what you meant,” she insisted, pulling away from their cuddled position, so she could stare at him.

  His eyes, those rich, azure pools, stared back at her. They were almost guileless, but Devon was no ingenue. Even if he was a little more naïve than most would credit a man of his age for.

  “You won’t believe me.”

  He sounded so matter of fact about it that she tensed. “Why wouldn’t I?”

  “Because they didn’t.” He jerked his chin up, which nudged his head back—towards the house.

  “None of them?”

  “No. They didn’t.” He leaned forward, and pressed his elbows to his knees as he murmured, “I explained why, but the attorney just told me to be quiet.”

  What on Earth? She reached for his hand, and even though she couldn’t feel his palm through their gloves, she squeezed his fingers. He looked darkly handsome against the graying sky, and the grim wintergreens and brackish browns of trees that were hibernating for winter. His black felt coat highlighted his golden coloring, and made his black hair pop all the more.

  “I’ll believe you.”

  “You’ll say I’m being paranoid, too.”

  She cut him a look, unsure of how to respond to that. Once upon a time, one of her men, either Sean or Sawyer—she couldn’t quite remember which—had told her Devon was quite capable of being paranoid, of having paranoid delusions.

  She’d watched A Beautiful Mind, so she got it. She did. Devon wasn’t crazy, even if she teasingly said he was. Not really. He just saw the world differently than most. But paranoia? That felt like a whole different ball game.

  Releasing a breath, she murmured, “Hit me with it.”

  He pursed his lips, then, his nostrils flaring, murmured, “The bastard was stalking me. When I told him to stop, he pretended he wasn’t, and. …” He shrugged. “I saw red.”

  “I swear Tin has more luggage than all of us put together,” Andrei grumbled as he stared at the cases in the hallway.

  “He needs a lot of stuff that your grandfather is unlikely to have hanging around at his house,” she retorted drily. “Stop whining.”

  “I’m not whining,” he countered. “It’s just. . .,” he grimaced, “a lot.”

  “Good thing we’re flying first class then, isn’t it? And that we can afford the excess luggage?” She laughed when he rolled his eyes, but he just folded his arms as he watched her rifle through another bag as she checked to make sure she’d packed something she considered vital.

  “We can buy things there, you know?” he asked, unsure if she realized that.

  “You mean, they accept money in Veronia, too?”

  Her gasp and the way she clutched her chest had him growling, “When did you become so sarcastic, katyonok?”

  “It’s being around you lot,” she countered. “You’ve made me the woman I am today.” Her wink was sassy as hell, but it was so nice to see her being herself again that he just shook his head at her. His girl was coming back to life, and it was a delight, and a relief, to behold.

  “I thought it would be our fault.”

  “Of course.” She beamed at him, then she tilted her head to the side. He turned around to see why and saw the shadow at the door. Before he could reach it, the key sounded in the lock and Sean appeared.

  His friend appeared harried, his shoulders hunched, not only against the cold but against whatever stress was plaguing him.

  He jerked in surprise at the sight of them both hovering in the foyer and demanded, in a tone most unlike his usual calm voice, “What the hell are you doing here?”

  Sascha gasped at the biting note, but Andrei murmured, “We’re just packing.”

  Sean glowered down at the luggage then shook his head at the sight of the eight different bags. Before either of them could say another word, he tucked his briefcase into his chest and maneuvered around the cases and Sascha, his destination evident: his office.

  “What the hell was that about?” Sascha demanded, turning to frown at Sean’s retreating back.

  “You know how he gets with his cases,” was all he said, but he stepped forward, pressed a hand to her shoulder and murmured, “Carry on packing. I’ll come and bring the bags downstairs, okay? Don’t carry them yourself.” There were another four suitcases waiting for him.

  For once, she didn’t argue, her attention still on Sean, even though he’d slammed the door to his office closed behind him. She nodded as he headed down the hall after his friend.

  Sean was not one to lose his temper. He was the most sedate of the lot of them. A true Brit, calm and collected, to his bones.

  He didn’t knock. That was a house rule. Just closed the door behind him, and pressing his back to it, Andrei stared over at Sean who was seemingly glowering at nothing.

  Maybe it was the time of day, or maybe it was simply the first time he really looked, but Sean wasn’t sleeping. The dark shadows under his eyes, the strain around his mouth, it all spoke of a deeper symptom, and Andrei had the feeling that symptom had less to do with their stillborn daughter than the rest believed.

  “I think it’s time you told me what’s going on, don’t you?” The man was entitled to be grumpy, but snapping at Sascha? That was beyond uncharacteristic.

  Sean jerked at that, and Andrei gathered he hadn’t even realized he’d entered the room. “Andrei? Is it time for dinner?”

  He scowled. “No, it damn well isn’t time for dinner.”

  “Then what’s wrong?”

  “I don’t know. That’s what I’m asking you.”

  “There’s nothing wrong.” Sean tilted his head to the side. “What made you think there was?”

  “The fact you’re walking around like a ghost.”

  “Don�
��t be ridiculous—”

  “I’m not,” Andrei cut off. “I want to know what’s going on. What aren’t you telling us?”

  Sean narrowed his eyes. His hair was shaggy and in need of a cut as he ran a hand over it. If he was trying to smooth it into some semblance of order, he failed. That alone spoke loudly. Sean was the neatest of them all, and Andrei considered himself pretty OCD when it came down to it.

  It was unlike Sean to keep things to himself. Where Sascha was concerned, not so much. But with him and the others? Yes. Sean shared his caseload with them, often seeking advice or asking to simply run a theory by them.

  He hadn’t done that since Sascha had. … Well, since she’d—

  He sliced that train of thought in half. That was a path he didn’t need to go down today. “Sean?” he prompted instead.

  His best friend closed his eyes as he slouched back in his desk chair. “Andrei, you really don’t want to know.”

  “Why don’t I?”

  “Because you’re busy.”

  “I am, yes,” he murmured easily, when wasn’t he busy? “But never too busy for any of my family.”

  Adam’s apple bobbing, Sean whispered, “You’ll think I’m crazy.”

  “Why would I?”

  “Because I sound it. Fuck. I sound like Devon.”

  That had Andrei scowling harder. “Like Devon? What are you talking about?”

  Nostrils flaring before he opened his eyes, he murmured, “You know the day Devon was arrested?”

  “How could I forget?” he asked drily.

  Sean firmed his mouth. “He used his call on me.”

  “I know. And you arranged for the solicitor. …”

  “Yes. I did. But he told me something.”

  “What?”

  “When we got to the hospital after Sascha had given birth, there was a man there.”

  “A man?” Andrei’s eyes rounded. “Who the hell was he?”

  Sean grimaced. “Your reaction matched ours. When she fell, he was there to help her. He stayed with her through the journey in the ambulance and all that day, he was with Tin.”

  “Why am I only just finding out about this?” he growled.

  “Because I didn’t realize it was important, dammit. Not until recently.”