She already knew the answer to that question. She lay there, feeling her heart breaking into a thousand tiny shards, each one cutting deeper than the last. She should have known better than to give her heart away, than to fall in love. It had just been so easy, Dominic had made her feel like the most important person in the world to him.
But Layla knew there was no way he could feel the same way about her, and the thought of living with him, year after year, falling ever more in love while he remained the same, affectionate but distant. It was pure torture.
A sound at the door had her ears perking up, but before she could even move up off of the couch the sound came again, like a heavy thud against the door. She was about to stand, but the door itself buckled in, the frame snapping under the pressure and she was left staring at a sweaty, red faced Dominic. And he looked furious.
“You…you could have knocked, you know.” Layla stammered out as she stood, but her stomach was dropping. She wasn’t ready to see him. To talk to him. What was there to say anyways?
Dominic stalked towards her, and the red hot glare in his normally silver blue eyes made her immediately sit back down. She had never seen him this angry before.
“What the hell were you thinking, Layla!” He spit at her as he grabbed her wrists and hauled her back to her feet to face him. “I was so worried, I couldn’t find you anywhere…” His words stalled as she was suddenly crushed to his still heaving chest, his arms like steel bands around her, squeezing her so tight she could barely breathe. It felt like heaven. “I was terrified, Layla. And then I found the ring, and that silly note you left.”
She tried to pull back at that, but he wouldn’t release her, his arms unmovable, so she spoke against his muscular chest. “That note wasn’t silly, Dominic. It broke my heart, but you need–.”
“Hush. It broke my heart too. Don’t you see?” Finally, he released her, but just enough so that she could tilt her head up to see his face, his serious expression. “I need you. I need you Layla.”
“No, you don’t, Dominic, you need…” She struggled to get the words out.
“You’re not listening to me Layla.” He shook her until she looked up at him again, meeting his fiery silver gaze. “I need you. I love you. I don’t want anyone else. I don’t even want the business if it means I have to lose you to get it. Don’t you understand, vozlyublennaya? I love you.”
His words came out in a torrent so quickly it took her a moment to process what he was saying, and it took a moment longer for her to believe it, but the look in his eyes convinced her. Again she had to fight back tears, but this time they were tears of joy as she watched him get down on one knee in front of her, reach into his pocket, and then raise up his hand towards her. Her wedding ring glinted prettily in his masculine fingers, and moisture gleamed wetly from his silver gaze as well.
“Layla Banks, will you do me the honor of being my wife?”
She stared down at him for a long, love-filled moment, made speechless by the emotions that were choking her.
“Please, vozlyublennaya?”
She released her pent up breath on a choked laugh, throwing her arms around his neck. “Yes. Yes, yes, yes.” She wasn’t even aware of the words she was saying, all she could see was his face, breaking into a radiant smile so full of love it was impossible to look away. She grinned back at him. Now, she would never have to.
Epilogue 11 months later
“Here you go, Mr. Strokowski.” Dominic leaned forward to take the still sealed envelope from the lawyer’s hands. He turned it over, and an unexpected lump formed in his throat at the sight of his father’s familiar scrawl. It was addressed to him. His father had written just before Dominic’s parent’s death, when he had made that amendment to his will that had completely turned Dom’s life around.
He glanced up at a sound, and didn’t realize he had a goofy grin of happiness on his face as he watched his gorgeous wife cradling their two month old baby son in her loving arms. Layla must have felt his gaze on her because just then, she looked up, and their eyes collided sending sparks of love and desire shooting through him, just as it always did.
Of all the people in the entire world to crash into him that day just outside of this very office, he knew how lucky he was that it had been her. Layla. She had made his life richer in every way. His eyes were drawn back to the lawyer as he cleared his throat.
“It’s the last part of your father’s amended will. This letter, to be delivered to you two months after the birth of your child.” He reached over and briskly shook Dominic’s hand before leaving him to open the letter in privacy.
Dominic gazed down at it, running his hands over the smooth ivory vellum, the dark red wax seal that had his father’s personal monogram. With a deep breath, he cracked open the seal, and taking one last look at his beloved wife and child, pulled out the letter. His chest tightened painfully as he read his father’s words.
Son,
I know what a shock it must have been when you were told about the amendment I made to my will. I know how angry you must have been, and I hope that someday you can come to forgive an old man for hopeful thinking.
I saw the way your life was going, always working, and sacrificing everything, even your own happiness, for the sake of the business. Please believe me when I say that is not what I wanted for you.
You are so much like me, stubborn and hardworking, focused, yes, but sometimes so focused that we blind ourselves to the more important things in life. The most important thing. Love.
It never comes easy to men like us, but I hope that I helped you find the one person in the world that can truly make you happy. A business can never do that, it can never replace your family. Just remember that over the years to come. Always put your family first, and keep the woman you love close by your side, because you will need her, believe me.
Your mother saved me, and I only want the same for you. The same happiness and the same joy. I’m just sorry that I had to trick you to get it. I’m sure you know by now that you would have inherited the family estates and business regardless of whether you were married or not. I’m sorry, and again, I hope you can forgive a silly old man. I just wanted the best for you, I always have.
With all the love in my heart,
Your father
Dominic blinked rapidly to clear his eyes of the moisture that threatened at each corner. Slowly, precisely, he refolded the letter and slid it back into its envelope, his father’s words replaying over and over in his head. Always put your family first, and keep the woman you love close by your side, because you will need her.
He glanced up at Layla, still cuddling their baby boy, who was now fast asleep in her arms. She looked up, and must have read some of the emotions swirling in him because she immediately walked over to him. He opened his arms, gesturing for her to take a seat on his lap, and she did, wiggling slightly with the baby still in her arms until she found the most comfortable spot.
“What is it, Dom?” She whispered softly, looking up at him with concern. He reached out and tucked a stray dark curl behind her ear, just staring at her.
“I was just advised that I need to keep you close.”
She arched a brow at that, but a small smile curved her full lips.
“Well, I’d say that’s pretty good advice, then.” She leaned forward and laid a gentle kiss on his cheek, and he wrapped his arms even tighter around his family. He would take his father’s advice to heart. He would keep them close, and never let them go.
“I love you, Dominic.” Layla’s sweet voice had him pulling them in even closer.
“And I love you, vozlyublennaya.”
THE END
Loving My Savage Russian Billionaire
Chapter 1
“Will that be all for you, miss?”
Hope jumped in her seat, startled, as she quickly looked up at the flight attending politely staring down at her.
“What? Oh, yes. Yeah, I’m fine.”
The red hai
red woman nodded once, and moved on the next aisle in front of her. Meanwhile, Hope tried to still her racing heart. It wasn’t like her to be so jumpy after a job, but this one had been different. Dangerously different. She thought back over the past few months as she stared out of the open hatch window, a small pane of glass the only thing separating her from a ten thousand foot fall onto the spires of Moscow.
The city looked like it was made out of brightly colored toys below her. She could just make out the colorful buildings through the grey, smoke-like clouds as they continued to ascend. She sighed in relief as they flew farther away, putting ever more distance between her and the real reason she was wound so tight she felt she might fly apart into a million pieces any second. Valentine Kamorov.
Hope pulled the worn, brown leather satchel closer to her chest, wrapping her arms defensively around it. She could just feel the outline of a hard rectangular shape pressing into her forearms and it gave her a small measure of comfort, and at the same time, sent a familiar thrill rushing through her.
Inside the bag was a very old manuscript enclosed in a hard, protective plastic case to keep it safe until she returned to America, and could hand it over to her seller. She closed her eyes for moment, the image of the beautiful book indelibly seared into her memory.
The leather of its binding was almost bronze with age and use. When she thought of all the hands that touched it, eyes that had read the same words over the vast centuries, the weight of its age made it feel like it was so much heavier than it really was as it sat cradled safely in her lap.
The fragile parchment pages were edged in gold, as were several of the illustrations through the book itself. Expensive dyes made out of lapis and cerulean, amethyst and rubies, covered the pages as well, marking this as a work of exquisite workmanship, and also incredibly valuable.
Of course, Hope couldn’t read a word of it.
It was in a Russian dialect so old that she couldn’t make out any of it except the odd symbol here or there. But she could see its beauty, could understand the poetry of the words, if not the meaning.
The cover of the book alone would be worth a small fortune. The leather was barely discernable under the heavy encrusting of various gemstones and even dotted with diamonds. It was an incredibly rare artifact and Hope still felt the same awe and wonder she had the first time she saw it, almost three months ago.
Unbidden, her memories of that day swirled, unfolding before her still closed eyes. Hope had been walking past the University, her coat wrapped tight around her body to battle the cold. The dark mocha shade of her skin was deepened to scarlet as the wind whipped a flush into her cheeks.
The cold breeze grabbed a lock of her long, curly brown hair and threw it up in front of her eyes, momentarily blinding her as she scrambled to untangle herself. Still unable to see, she had run into a bench sitting empty and alone in the courtyard, and before she could catch herself had fallen face first into the frozen snow.
She had just started to push herself up when sudden hands, strong hands, incredibly masculine hand, were on her shoulders, helping her to her feet. She looked up intending to thank the kind stranger, but the words stalled in her throat. His icy blue eyes, as cold as the snow just starting to make icy trails down the inside of her coat, stared at her, demanding she meet his gaze and refusing to let her look away.
He was taller than her, by at least eight inches if not an entire foot, and everything about him from his height to his broad shoulders and sculpted abs had her feeling incredibly feminine. The differences between them were beautiful in their extreme contrasts. He was all light, to her dark.
His blond hair and pale skin set off her dark brown hair and the coffee shade of her own skin. It made her wonder what they would look like together, their bodies twined around one another. Hope shivered, and it had nothing to do with the cold.
He had smiled then, an aggressively charming, lopsided smile that her insides doing all sorts of acrobatics in her chest. There was something about him that screamed play boy, but she had ignored it. Instead focusing on the unfamiliar spark of fire that had ignited between them.
Even though she had dated occasionally, with her line of work, she rarely had time to keep a steady relationship, let alone the fact that she almost never found anyone she was really attracted to. There just was never any chemistry.
Suddenly, he reached down and grabbed her hand, and Hope almost jumped at the contact, even more tiny sparks erupted along her skin like an electrical current shot from his body to hers. Yep, there was plenty of chemistry there.
That simple, chaste touch had left her standing in the snow, breathless again.
“I’m Valentine.” His deep voice was rough, gravelly, and thick with a Russian accent proclaiming him native born to the country. The sound of his softly spoken words had her melting a little as she responded in kind.
“I’m Hope, Hope McAllister.” She wondered if he was going to shake her hand or not, but instead he just held it, looking at the entrancing sight of her much smaller, more delicate, dark fingers that were encased by his much larger ones.
A sudden jolt of turbulence startled Hope out of her reverie and back to reality. She grabbed the bag out of reflex, but it was fine, still nestled safely on her lap. She took a deep breath and then exhaled, relaxing slightly as they continued to fly straight and smooth through the cloudy grey sky, any signs of Moscow lost beneath the thick, pillowy barrier of clouds.
She thought again of that auspicious moment three months ago. That had been the first time she had seen him. Certainly not the last. She could just imagine him now, and it sent a jolt of trepidation and guilt running through her. He would be angry; he would probably be hurt. After sleeping together for the past few months, Hope had just up and disappeared, and something else had disappeared with her.
She glanced down at the satchel that contained one of the most valuable items she’d ever had in her possession, and over the years, she’d had a lot of very valuable items in her grasp.
But she never kept them. That wasn’t her job. Her job was just to find them, and steal them. And now Valentine would know the truth about her, the one she had never been able tell him. She was a thief.
Chapter 2
The sound of the violent bass pounded through Valentine’s chest, in perfect time with the anger bubbling just under his skin. Outwardly, he looked nonchalant, bored even, under the multicolor fluorescent lights of Chernn Kot. It meant ‘black cat’ in Russian, and it was one of the most elite nightclubs in Moscow.
Only the wealthiest citizens, celebrities, and top social dignitaries partied there. It was one of Valentines regular spots. He tried to let himself get lost in the tribal electronic music that was blaring through the speakers from the DJ table where he stood in headphones and leather, a crowd of inebriated dancers grinding against each other on the intimate dance floor in front of him.
Almost against his will, he found himself watching a couple dancing together in the middle of the crowd. The man was tall, heavily muscled, and his skin looked almost pure white against the stunning ebony of the woman in his arms. Her dark skin shone like black velvet underneath the colored lights, her long brown hair fell in curly waves, swaying as she moved, and her curves called to him.
Not because Valentine wanted her, but because the stranger reminded him of Hope, that clever minx. Respect, disbelief, and anger warred together inside him. He had billions of dollars at his disposal, the best security team, the best systems. And yet, she had outwitted him with a smile, and her intelligence. He still wasn’t sure how she had gotten into the vault, let alone steal the ancient book and get out with it without setting off the myriad of alarms and automatic locks that should have been triggered.
A high pitched, vapid voice interrupted his thoughts.
“Hey, Valentine, you want to dance?” The words were heavily accented with Russian, but the heiress hanging on his arm didn’t interest him in the least. She was dull, dumb, had the wit of a twel
ve year old, and zero personality. Not to mention he could feel every rib bone that she had pressed against him in a sad attempt to tempt him with her malnourished looking body.
Basically, the exact opposite of Hope.
But he had to keep up appearances, forcing an avaricious look on his chiseled features, he turned to the blond beauty hanging on his other arm.
“Why don’t you two go dance together for me. I’ll watch,” His words matched the lecherous grin he sent them perfectly. They both giggled, and it took every ounce of effort not to roll his eyes, instead maintaining the same slightly bored expression he’d been wearing all night. With identical heated looks in his direction, they headed for the dance floor.
The truth was, Valentine really was bored. Bored with the same empty conversations, the vapid women who continued to remind him that they weren’t Hope, trying to attract him because of his reputation, or more likely, his fortune. He was tired of the endless parties.
His cell phone vibrated in the pocket of his tight-fitting black denim jeans, and he was thankful for the distraction. Normally, he would have more than willing bring one of those women home, or both of them. Now it just seemed so meaningless.
He tried to shake off the morose thoughts as he answered.
“Valentine.”
“Hey, Valentine, we’re bringing you in.” Instantly, he was on alert. This was the call he’d been waiting for.
“I’m on the case?”
“Yeah, Captain decided you’re the best man for the job, so, congratulations. You’re going to America.”
“When am I leaving?” Valentine tried to speak as quietly as he could and still be heard over the loud music.
“Be here in one hour for debriefing. Your flight is scheduled for five am.”
HIGHLANDER: The Highlander’s Surrender Bride (Scottish Alpha Male Pregnancy Romance) Page 8