Vladimir

by Kat Mizera

“I am confused,” he said finally. “I am okay with sex. I am okay with no sex. But why me? I barely speak English, I am friends with your ex-fiancé, and you are beautiful movie star who can have any man. Why me?”

  She moved closer to him and put a hand on his chest. “Your English is really okay—I understand everything you say—so stop saying that. We’ve had a lot of fun, haven’t we?”

  He nodded.

  “I like you, and to be honest, you make me feel normal. Everyone wants something from me—even if it’s something stupid like an autograph for their kid—but we’ve been together all night and you haven’t asked for anything. Not even a kiss. I feel comfortable around you, and I haven’t felt that way since Jamie left. We had our problems and it didn’t work out, but he’s the only person I know who isn’t an actor that never wanted something from me. For some reason, I feel like that with you, too. Please stay. I swear to you, I’m not after anything and I don’t have ulterior motives.”

  He reached out and touched her cheek, gently moving his thumb along the soft skin and wondering how someone like her could be alone on her birthday. He was sometimes lonely, but for totally different reasons, a lot of them his own fault.

  “I will stay,” he said softly. “But I must know rules.”

  “Rules?”

  “Sex? No sex? We will still go on date? What is process?”

  She chuckled. “No rules. I think sex is off the table because we’re both exhausted and you have to rest for hockey tomorrow.” She turned and headed for the bedroom, looking over her shoulder. “Next time? Who knows. This morning, let’s take a nap. Tonight, maybe you can buy me dinner since I bought breakfast.”

  “Yes.” He followed behind her and pulled his shirt out from his slacks, unbuttoning it as he walked. He pulled it off and tossed it on the chair next to the bed as he toed off his shoes. He caught her staring at him and turned questioningly. “Just my shirt, yes?”

  “Oh, yes.” She grinned. “I like the view.”

  Damn, he was amazing without a shirt. All hard and rippled muscles; the valleys in his abdomen leading down into his jeans made her sigh with longing. She wanted to touch him, but she didn’t dare. Not after she’d promised him she wasn’t going to tease him; if she was honest with herself, she was too tired for sex right now anyway.

  He lay on the bed and stretched out on one side, putting two pillows under his head. The bed was almost as comfortable as the one she had at home and they both let out sighs of contentment before he set his phone alarm to wake them in four hours.

  Rachel was in a long, oversized T-shirt that fell to mid-thigh and she scooted across the bed to be closer to him. She glanced over and smiled faintly before holding out her hand. “Happy birthday, Vlad.”

  “Happy birthday, Rachel.” He closed his fingers around hers and shut his eyes. There were both asleep within minutes.

  Vlad was annoyed when the alarm went off. There was a soft, warm body molded to the front of him and he had a raging hard-on. He reached behind him to quiet the irritating buzz and let out a grunt of displeasure when the phone slipped out of his hand and crashed to the floor.

  “Fuck.” He moved away and reached down to get it, finally silencing it.

  “That’s the first time an alarm clock has been the cock blocker.”

  “Cock what?” He rubbed his eyes, instinctively moving back to spoon Rachel from behind. She leaned back against him as though they’d been sleeping together for years instead of hours.

  “You know, something that prevents sex from happening—cock block.”

  He snorted. “Yes, I know this term. I am slow when sleepy.” He draped one arm over her waist. “You are ready to wake up?”

  “No, but I will.” She moved against him again, wiggling her bottom slightly. “I think I answered my own question.”

  “What?”

  “About whether or not you could get it up for me.”

  He laughed. “This is not surprise—you are beautiful.” He leaned over and gently pressed his lips to her neck. “But we must have date first, no?”

  “Yes.” She smiled.

  Vlad couldn’t understand the pleasure it brought him to see her smile. Ironically, it had nothing to do with her being Rachel Kennedy the movie star—just like he didn’t feel like Vladimir Kolnikov the up-and-coming Russian hockey star when he was with her. He’d subconsciously sensed her loneliness at the casino last night and again this morning in the elevator when he’d grudgingly tried to say good-bye. A woman who wanted to hook up with Vlad the hockey star would have been all over him the minute they were alone; Rachel had simply invited him to hang out, to have breakfast. Sleeping with her without really touching her had been unlike anything he’d ever experienced.

  “I must go to my room and shower.” He got up reluctantly. “You will sleep more?”

  “No. I need to get back on schedule, too. I’m usually up at five thirty when I have to be at the studio by seven.”

  “Usually I am up at five thirty also,” he said. “I work out or go to arena early for extra time on ice.”

  “You sound busy like me,” she sighed. “Being an adult is exhausting.”

  “Sometimes.” He paused. “You are tired. You should sleep.”

  “I have things to do.” She smiled, now able to discern that his eyes were a greenish-yellow so pale they were almost colorless. “And I have a date tonight.”

  “Yes.” He grinned. “Where would you like to go?”

  She hesitated. “I want to go somewhere no one recognizes us, where we can just talk and have dinner and be alone. I don’t want to have to fight off fans or sign autographs or anything…”

  “So birthday dinner at my condo?” he asked lightly, looking down at her.

  She nodded. “That sounds lovely. You don’t mind?”

  He shook his head. “No. Is good.” He leaned down and gently brushed his lips across hers. “I will pick you up in front of hotel at six thirty. Yes?”

  “Yes.” She touched his face. “Thank you for a wonderful evening.”

  “You are welcome.” He winked, slipped on his shoes, grabbed his shirt and headed to the door. He looked back over his shoulder and she was still standing there watching him.

  “Until tonight,” she whispered.

  4

  Present Day

  Rachel heard them talking. Nestled in the cool, comfortable bed in Toli and Tessa Petrov’s guest room, she could only make out hushed voices and the sound of Tessa’s three-year-old daughter, Raina, occasionally letting out a shriek. With a sigh, Rachel sat up. It was Sunday, the day after her non-wedding. The day after the man she loved more than anything abandoned her. The day that was supposed to be the first day of her honeymoon. There’d been a gift-opening brunch planned here at Toli and Tessa’s house at eleven and it was now… she looked around and found her phone still in her purse. It was ten thirty-five. She was positive Tessa had called everyone to cancel—just immediate family and their closest friends had been invited—but Rachel needed to get up and double check anyway.

  Pulling on shorts and a T-shirt, she freshened up in the bathroom and did her best to hide the puffiness under her eyes from crying half the night. Thank God for makeup, she thought wearily, putting on just enough to make her look human. There was still no doubt she’d been crying, but at least she didn’t look like death warmed over twice. She put her hair back in a ponytail, wishing she’d washed out the gallons of hairspray they’d used to keep her fancy up-do in place, but she’d barely been able to function last night, much less shower or dry her hair.

  Tessa’s quiet voice and Brock’s deep baritone coming from the kitchen drifted up the stairs as Rachel softly padded down the hall. Brock and Ashleigh had gone above and beyond the call of duty yesterday and she’d been more than grateful for their assistance as she’d spiraled into so much anger and humiliation it had nearly consumed her.

  “Okay, you can stop whispering,” she said, walking into the kitchen with as much of a s
mile as she could muster up. She put her hands on her hips as the room fell silent and gave them a scowl. “Seriously, don’t do this. I was humiliated in front of the whole world yesterday—the last thing I need is for the people I love most to treat me differently.”

  “I’m sorry, sweetie.” Ashleigh got up and ran to hug her.

  Ashleigh had to be tired, too—she’d been with Rachel until the wee hours of the morning, holding her hand as she’d cried—and she was pregnant.

  “You should be asleep,” Rachel said to her gently. “You were with me all night.”

  Ashleigh shook her head. “I’m fine. I’ll take a nap later. How are you?”

  Rachel sighed, looking around at the faces of her and Vlad’s closest friends. “I’m a mess, but now I have to stand tall and face reality. He’s gone and I’m sure the media is having a field day with poor, jilted Rachel Kennedy.”

  Ashleigh sighed. “A reporter spotted him at the airport going through security yesterday afternoon, but then airport officials whisked him away and no one saw what flight he got on.”

  Rachel took a deep breath, trying to keep her emotions in check. “Okay, well, I guess he’s running away and leaving me to deal with everything. Tessa, do you have a pad of paper? I need to make a list of shit I need to do.”

  “There’s nothing you need to do,” Tessa said, handing her a cup of coffee. “Unless it has to do with work.”

  “I have to cancel the honeymoon reservations, return wedding gifts—”

  Ashleigh was shaking her head. “Tessa and I are already handling all that, brunch was mostly canceled—although we’ve already got the food, so a few people are coming over.”

  Rachel narrowed her eyes. “How few?”

  Tessa gave her a small smile. “Well, I have an entire garage, the dining room, and both refrigerators full of food that’s going to go bad. What else could I do but invite some hungry hockey players over to eat? Just our inner circle, though—Zakk and Tiff, Dom and Molly, Cody and Suze…” She paused. “And Jamie and Viggo.”

  Rachel’s eyes lit up. “Jamie and Viggo are coming? Oh, that’s good, I’m looking forward to seeing Jamie.” Rachel had gotten close to her ex-fiancé again after his brutal attack earlier in the year by a group of Aryan skinheads who’d seen him with his then-boyfriend, now-husband Viggo.

  “So it’ll just be us, but there won’t be a ton of wasted food and enough kids running around to distract you.”

  “What time are they coming? I’d like to take a shower and freshen up. I’ve got so much hairspray in my hair, I must weigh an extra two or three pounds!”

  “I told them noon, but no one expects you to put on a pretty face or entertain anyone,” Tessa said. “Just do whatever you need to do to get through today and we’ll all be here to support you.”

  “I just…” Rachel swallowed, fighting the sudden urge to cry. “I want to thank you for having my back through all this. I don’t know what I would have done if I’d had to stay at the hotel and deal with the media, the paparazzi, fans… Just, thank you.”

  “You’re one of us,” Toli said, his blue eyes finding hers intently. “I don’t know what’s going on with Vlad, but I’m going to find out, and no matter what happens, we’re your friends, too.”

  Rachel nodded. “Thank you.”

  “Come on, have something to eat,” Tessa nudged her. “You look like a feather could knock you over.”

  Rachel sank into a chair. “Just a bagel or something… I don’t feel that great.”

  “It’s going to be okay,” Toli said softly, squeezing her shoulder.

  Rachel took a shower and got dressed, opting for shorts and a T-shirt again instead of the pretty summer dress she’d been planning to wear. She put on a little makeup, enough to hide her tired eyes, and left her hair hanging down around her shoulders. She was about to head downstairs to greet everyone when the diamond on her left hand caught the light, sparkling brightly. She stared at it a long moment, trying to decide what to do, before slowly slipping it off her finger. She set it in the decorative crystal bowl on the dresser and walked out of the room. She’d leave it at Vlad’s condo when she went to clear out her things.

  With a groan, she remembered how many of his things were in her house in L.A. Well, he’d have to come get them. She wasn’t letting him off the hook that easily. She would move her things out of his place as soon as possible, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of paying someone to move his. Jerk. The thought was fleeting as she pictured his sad face two nights ago at the rehearsal dinner. He’d been legitimately unhappy about something but had hid it from almost everyone else. They were emotionally attuned to each other, so she sensed Vlad had been struggling with something even though he’d refused to admit it. Whether it was because he didn’t want to hurt her or something else, she had no way of knowing, but the look in his eyes had been one she’d never seen before. He’d kissed her when it was over, told her he loved her and would see her at the ceremony the following day. That was the last time she’d seen or talked to him.

  Laughter wafted up the stairs and she took a deep breath, steeling herself for the onslaught of sympathy, questions and pitying looks. They didn’t mean anything by it—they were her friends and cared about her, but it was still going to be hard.

  “Hey, everybody.” She walked into the family room with a smile that probably didn’t reach her eyes, but she didn’t care.

  As she’d suspected, everyone immediately turned, ready to engulf her in hugs and words of encouragement, their eyes full of sympathy, empathy, and other things she didn’t want to identify. Instead of focusing on that, she let herself get lost in friendship and easy laughter. It was better than tears and misery, and there would undoubtedly be plenty of that to go around once she went back to her big empty house in L.A.

  “How are you, honey?”

  Jamie’s soft voice in her ear brought on an unexpected bout of tears and she blinked rapidly to keep them from falling. “I-I, I guess I’m okay.” She turned to give him a weak smile.

  “You don’t have to fake it for me,” he whispered, reaching up to brush a tear away. “You must be a mess.”

  She took a ragged breath. “Kinda.”

  “It’s okay. Come on, let’s talk.” He took her arm and guided her out to the patio. They sank into chairs under an umbrella and for a while neither of them spoke.

  Rachel glanced over at the handsome man she’d once thought she would spend the rest of her life with. He was as handsome as ever, his long-lashed brown eyes soft and warm, a touch of five o’clock shadow giving him a rakish look that was different for him. He looked relaxed and happy, something she hadn’t seen on him in a long time. Marriage was good for him, and she couldn’t help but stare down at the wedding band on his left hand sadly.

  “So, how’s life?” she managed to ask.

  He chuckled. “Nice deflection. My life is fine—how about you? Anyone asked about your poor broken heart? How you’re going to pack up your shit at his apartment? What you’re going to do about the paparazzi inevitably staking out your house in L.A.?”

  She smiled fondly. “Nope, just you. No one else has thought about anything except the wedding disaster.”

  He reached out his hand and she took it gratefully. “What can I do?” he asked softly. “Do you want me to come with you when you clean out your things?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. I figured Ashleigh would come, but you could come, too. Might be good to have a big strong man to carry boxes downstairs.”

  He smiled. “I can do that. I also have decent-sized shoulders for you to cry on.”

  “Viggo probably wouldn’t like that.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Do you really think I’d be married to a guy who doesn’t understand the difference between a clingy ex-girlfriend and a good friend who’s going through a terrible ordeal?”

  “I honestly don’t know him very well.”

  “Trust me—he knows I plan to be available for anyth
ing you need, and he’d like to get to know you. He’s a great guy, Rach. I couldn’t have done this, made such a drastic change in my life, if he wasn’t.”

  “I’m looking forward to getting to know him, although I don’t know how much time I’ll be spending in Vegas now that Vlad and I aren’t together.”

  “Tell me what he said,” he asked after a moment. “Did he say he just didn’t love you? Or love you enough?”

  “He said he loved me and he was sorry. That he couldn’t do it yet. No real explanation, no excuses, just that he’s not ready. Whatever the fuck that means.”

  Jamie frowned. “You think he got cold feet?”

  “Seems that way. He told me a few weeks ago he’d been having nightmares again—he used to get them as a kid in the orphanage. He told me it stopped once he got to the NHL but started up again a few months ago. They weren’t often, but last week he woke me up twice because he was crying out in his sleep.”

  “Stress of the wedding…” Jamie surmised.

  “That has to mean he was having second thoughts, right? I mean, I’m no psychologist, but that’s pretty evident.”

  He looked thoughtful. “I had nightmares after my attack, but never when I was with Viggo. They’d come back when he was traveling and such, and go away again as soon as he was beside me. It does sound like nerves, but I’ve known Vlad since he got to Vegas and I don’t take him for a guy who leaves a woman at the altar for no reason. Something had to have happened.”

  She shook her head. “He never gave any indication he was scared or having second thoughts. He seemed a little quiet during the rehearsal dinner, but when I asked about it, he said he was fine, so I’m baffled.”

  “I’m so sorry, honey.” He looked sad. “I didn’t spend a lot of time with him after my attack, but I know he’s crazy about you.”

  “Just not enough to marry me.” She leaned back, closing her eyes. “It was so humiliating—why couldn’t he have called it off the day before? That’s what I don’t understand… Couldn’t he have done it privately?”