The Hot Lawyer (A Romance Love Story) (Hargrave Brothers - Book #4)

by Alexa Davis

  I chuckled as I ran a hand through my hair and caught a whiff of her scent on my fingers and face. I had lost myself in the act of pleasing this woman, and now, I was going to have to go try and reason with my father and convince him that seeking revenge in the state he was in was not wise.

  #

  Less than an hour later, I walked through the door of the house I'd grown up in and saw my father sitting in a lounger looking angry.

  "Papa, what's wrong?" I asked, trying to hide the fact that I'd been summoned.

  "You know exactly what's wrong, Maksim," he said narrowed eyes. "Don't play this bullshit game with your father. I won't have it."

  "Yes, Papa," I automatically replied. "Then, tell me what it is you want to do and let me help."

  "I want to kill the sookin syn who murdered my son," he said in a voice that was so deadly calm it frightened me. My father was a big, loud man who bellowed and yelled at everyone. When he was calm, it was a sign of very bad things.

  "I know you do, Papa," I nodded. "We all do. And, I'm going to find the man who did it and make him pay. I promise. But you can't go out there and wave a gun around. Not here in the city – you'll be arrested and thrown in jail for endangering the public, and then I'll have to spend my time and money getting you out of jail. It's best if you stay here and rest while I do the leg work, okay?"

  "Maksim," he said in a voice that was so full of pain it took everything I had not to look away to avoid his eyes. "They killed my son."

  "I know, Papa," I said as I gently patted the arm that was not encased in a cast. "I know, Papa. They killed my brother."

  "No, you have no idea," he shook his head as his voice climbed until he was bellowing, "They can kill a lot of people, but they cannot kill a man's son!

  "Papa, calm down!" I begged as I sat down next to him. His face was red and he was sweating profusely as he pounded on the arm of the chair with his good hand.

  "They cannot kill a man's SON!" he yelled over and over. Then, as suddenly as it had started, the rage was over and my father sat in his chair with one hand over his face, sobbing like a heartbroken child. I put my arm around him and waited for the storm to pass. I had no idea what to say to him and knew that until he gave me a sign, I should remain quiet because if I said the wrong thing, I might wind up at the losing end of his pistol. It was how my father had always operated, and there was some comfort in that.

  "It's okay, Papa, it's going to be okay," I said softly as I sat resting my hand on his arm when he began to rock back and forth, sobbing his anger and frustration. I waited until he had calmed down before I summoned Feliks and told him that Papa needed to be driven up to see Babi. I sat back down next to Papa, and said, "Papa, I'm going to have Feliks take you to see Babi. You can have a nice meal and talk to her about Kristov. No one's told her yet."

  "Oh no, no, no," he said as he shook his head. "I can't tell her about Kristov. She'll be broken."

  "Papa, someone has to tell her," I said, trying to be sympathetic, but also needing to get him out of the range of danger for a little while. "I think it would be good for you to be with her."

  "She will blame me," he said, looking up at me with eyes that were full of pain. "She will tell me that it's all my fault."

  "Papa, she will not," I said, suddenly unsure about whether that was true or not.

  "She blames me for your mother, too, you know," he said sadly. I inhaled sharply as he said it. My father and I never discussed my mother's death, but I'd always blamed him for it. Kristov had been the one who'd tried to convince me that it wasn't Papa's fault, that Mama had been sick and she'd simply taken a way out that offered less pain. I'd always doubted his account, but my father's admission made me wonder. He looked up at me and said, "And, I know you do, too, Maksimka."

  "Papa…" I started to say something, but stopped because I had no idea what to say. I did blame him, but telling him so wouldn't do anyone any good right now. I needed him to be rational and reasonable, not emotionally driven by rage and pain.

  "It's okay, Maksimka, your brother told me," he said as he patted my hand. "You do blame me, don't you?"

  "Yes, Papa," I admitted.

  The blow that hit my cheek was so fast and hard that I didn't have time to prepare. The pain exploded across my cheek and drove me to the ground. I hit my head on the edge of the coffee table as I went down and felt the blood began to flow from the gash. I looked up at my father, dazed by the hit. He was looking down at me with disgust.

  "You ungrateful sookin syn," he hissed. "You are the worst kind of son – the one who believes the worst about his own father. I will tell you this, I helped bring you into this world and I can take you out of this world just as easily. I would feel no remorse for taking an ungrateful son like you out of this world."

  I reached up and touched the spot where I'd hit the table, when I drew my hand away, I saw the fresh red blood dripping off of my fingertips. I looked up at my father and then pulled myself off of the floor. I walked into the kitchen, grabbed a fistful of paper towels, and pressed them to the wound before walking back into the living room and facing my father. I stared at him for a long while before finally speaking.

  "I will find the man who killed my brother," I said in a voice void of emotion. "I will find him and I will make him pay for what he has done. And once I have completed that task, I will bring you the evidence that I have done it. Then, and only then, will I shut the door on you. You will be dead to me, and I to you. I am done with this. I am done with your anger and your rage. I am done with you."

  I turned and walked out the front door as he called after me, cursing my birth and screaming that I was always an ungrateful sookin syn and would always be one.

  I shut out the sound of his voice when I closed the door to the car and instructed the driver to take me to the store. On the drive there, I vowed to tell Lexi the truth about my past and let her in once and for all.

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  Lexi

  Despite Max's early morning breakfast distraction, I managed to make it to the store on time to open for business. I couldn't stop replaying the morning's sex over and over and as a result, I was a little distracted when Mrs. Zakhrov rang the bell. I let her in and failed to notice the three young men loitering behind her as she entered. They pushed their way into the store and began loudly arguing over which necklace to buy their girlfriends.

  I smiled at Mrs. Zakhrov, walked over to the boys, and asked if I could help them make a good choice. The leader had a strange look about him. He was dressed in a business suit that looked slightly too small for his enormous frame and was sporting a faux-hawk that looked like it had been smoothed down with an enormous amount of product. The other two were similarly dressed, but their suits fit them a little better. All in all, they looked like foreign bankers and since we had a lot of them downtown, I didn't think much of it.

  "Can I help you gentlemen decide on something?" I asked as I approached. The leader suddenly whipped around and pulled a gun out from under his jacket.

  "Yeah, bitch, you can help me decide whether or not to kill you," he growled as he reached out and grabbed my arm. Mrs. Zakhrov screamed as the other two grabbed her and yanked her purse out of her hands.

  "You don't have to do this," I said, trying to maintain a calm demeanor, despite the fact that my heart felt like it was pounding out of my chest. "I'll give you what you want. Just tell me what you want."

  "I want the owner of this shithole," the man growled as he spun me around, wrapped his arm around my neck, and pointed the gun at my head. "I want to see Malinchenko, now!"

  "I'm sorry? Do you mean Mr. Malin?" I asked genuinely confused as to what the man wanted. "He's the owner, and he should be back any minute. He just ran out on an errand."

  "I want to see that bastard Malinchenko!" he insisted. "That son of a bitch needs to be taught a lesson for what he's done to us!"

  The other two men seemed to have lost interest in Mrs. Zakhrov once they determined tha
t she had very little cash in her wallet. Still, they held onto her arms and pressed her against a display case as one of them spoke Russian and she began to cry.

  "What are you doing to her?" I cried. "Stop it! You're hurting her!"

  "They're not hurting her," the man said in a bored tone. "They're telling her what a capitalist pig she is and what a disgrace she is to the Russian community."

  "Why would they do that?" I yelled. "She's done nothing to deserve that!"

  "Yeah, but her husband is a money-grubbing pig who earns his living off the labor of the working class," he said indignantly. "So, by association, she's a pig, as well."

  "Oh, give me a break, you Marxist weirdo," I said, angry that these men had broken into the store and were causing Mrs. Zakhrov such pain. "You live in the U.S., how much of a socialist can you really be? Plus, you're wearing a Gucci suit that costs probably a year's rent in some parts of this city. Give me a fucking break!"

  "I like this one!" he laughed as he squeezed my throat a little tighter, cutting off a large portion of my airway. "She's feisty! Perhaps we should have a little fun with the feisty one?"

  "Fuck you," I gasped as he released me and let me breathe a little before squeezing tightly again. He was playing cat and mouse with me, and if he squeezed me any tighter, I was going to be one dead little mouse. Mrs. Zakharov said something I couldn't understand, and the two men holding her let go immediately. They looked over at their boss, repeated what she'd said, and he quickly dropped his hold on me.

  The three took off running for the door with Mrs. Zakhrov shouting at them in Russian as they exited the store. I looked over at her as she bent down and retrieved her clutch from the floor where they'd thrown it.

  "I have no idea what you said to them," I said. "But those must have been some powerful words, indeed."

  "Little boys who play big boy games sometimes have to be reminded of the fact that they still sit at the children's table," she said as she pulled out a tube of lipstick and applied a fresh coat before patting her hair and smiling at her reflection.

  #

  Ten minutes later, Max walked through the door just as Mrs. Zakhrov and I were giving our statements to the police.

  "What in the hell happened here?" he demanded.

  I quickly filled him in on the break in and told him about how the men had demanded to see Malinchenko. "Do you know this person?" I asked. Max nodded and then went over to check on Mrs. Zakhrov. She spoke to him in Russian and a look of recognition spread across his face. He nodded and asked if her car was waiting outside for her. When he'd gotten her safely to her car and closed the door, he came back into the store and spoke with the police.

  I stood and watched as the crime scene investigators took fingerprints from the display cases and laughed quietly to myself as they pulled up a set of perfect handprints off the front door. The stupid criminals had planted their hands on the glass door as they were leaving. Once the police were done and had left, Max closed the door, locked it, and turned over the closed sign.

  "Come with me," he said holding out his hand. I took it and he pulled me back to the office, where he poured me a shot of whiskey and told me to tell him everything that had happened. I recounted all the details I could remember, from the way the suits looked, to the sound of the men’s voices as they shouted at Mrs. Zakhrov in Russian.

  Max listened carefully and jotted down notes as he did, then when I was finished, he looked at me and said, "That's it, we're getting an armed security guard for the store and one for you."

  "Max, don't be ridiculous," I protested. "They were common thieves and they didn't even take anything. They just waved their guns around and then left."

  "All the more reason for you to have a security guard," he insisted. "I'm not going to have you out there vulnerable and exposed."

  "Max, those men don't have the first clue who I am. I'm no one to them!" I protested again. It seemed excessive to me to have a guard following me around all the time and, quite frankly, I didn't like the idea of having my privacy violated that way. "I'm not afraid of them."

  "Lexi, I'm not going to have this argument," he said firmly. "You will have a security guard and that's all there is to it."

  "You are so damn stubborn!" I yelled. "What if I don't want a damn security guard tailing me all over the place?"

  "Then, you'll have to find a way to make peace with it," he said calmly. "I'm not arguing with you; it's a done deal."

  "And, what if I quit?" I said calmly. "What if I tell you that the security detail is my no-fly zone and if you do it, I'll quit?"

  "You wouldn't," he said.

  "Try me," I challenged as I stood staring at him defiantly with my hands on my hips. "I'm not kidding, Max. No deal."

  "Lexi, you don't understand," he sighed.

  "No, I really don't, so I suggest you start explaining," I said, refusing to back down.

  I wasn't going to give in on this one without a fight and from the looks of it, neither was Max.

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  Max

  After talking with Mrs. Zakhrov, I knew exactly who had been the store and I was adamant that we get security for the store and one who would follow Lexi wherever she went. I debated about whether I should tell her exactly why it was essential, but backed down when I realized that telling her might result in her leaving and then she'd be at an even greater risk.

  "I'm not going to argue with you, Lexi," I said. "It's a done deal. Quit if you like, but I'll still have a security officer follow you around until they find these guys."

  "You are impossible, Max Malin!" she said as stared at me with defiance in her eyes. More than anything, I wanted to pull her into my arms and hold her tight because I knew how close she'd come to being harmed. The men who broke into the store were part of Dementyev's gang and Mrs. Zakhrov had confirmed it for me. Her husband knew the major players in the Russian underworld and as a result, she was well informed on who belonged to whom.

  "Lexi, please don't cop an attitude with me right now," I ordered. "I've got more than I can handle and this is just one of those things that is going to have to be."

  "Cop an attitude with you? You have got to be kidding me!" she yelled. "I was the one who was here with those thugs! If anyone has the right to have an attitude, it's me!"

  I knew she was right, but I also knew that I was absolutely right, too. We stood inches from each other in the office, staring into each other's eyes, waiting for one of us to back down, but neither did. I couldn't help but feel aroused by her anger and the longer I looked at her, the more aroused I got. We hadn't had time finish our tryst over breakfast and I'd walked away aching.

  "Lexi…" I started. She looked gorgeous in the blue wrap dress she'd chosen for today and for once, she'd left her hair down. It flowed loosely past her shoulders and framed her face in a way that almost invited me to play with it.

  "I'm mad at you!" she said, but I caught the hint of a smile flit across her lips before she regained control of her mad face.

  "No you're not," I countered as I moved closer and wound a strand of loose hair around my finger as I gazed into her amber eyes.

  "Yes… I am…" she gulped as I traced a light line down the side of her cheek with the tip of my finger. "I'm…um…mad."

  "No, no you're not," I whispered as I leaned in and came within millimeters of her lips with mine. "You're not mad at all."

  "I…oh…I…" she stammered as I cupped her face and leaned in to press my lips to hers. The softness of the kiss sparked an urgency in me that I was afraid I wasn't going to be able to control, and when she reached up and wrapped her arms around my neck, I knew we were headed somewhere fast and reckless.

  I gripped her waist with one hand as I slid the other inside her dress and roughly pinched one of her nipples. She gasped and kissed me harder as I quickly slid the skirt of her dress up around her waist. She unzipped my pants, pulled out my swollen shaft, and began stroking it as I pushed my hand between her legs and
shoved her panties to one side.

  Our kiss intensified as we both worked each other into a frenzied state of arousal and soon, she had backed up so that she could perch herself on the edge of my desk and guide me between her legs. I could feel the heat radiating from her as she pulled me closer and positioned me so that one, quick thrust put me deep inside her wet warmth. I groaned and began pumping my hips back and forth as I tried to hold back. I wanted to bring her with me, but the tension from this morning's play had built up inside me and after a few thrusts, I was lost in her tightness and couldn't stop myself.

  "Oh, Max! Yes! Yes!" she moaned as she pushed her hips forward, meeting mine as I thrust into her over and over again. I could feel her tightening around me as she urged me on and soon, I felt the familiar rush of blood and the wave of coldness that raced through my veins as I let go and released inside of her. I gripped her tightly and rode the wave while I felt myself throbbing inside of her as she pulsed her hips and continued rocking. A few seconds later, I heard her moan softly and felt the warmth of her release as the wetness flowed and her inner muscles gripped and then loosened.

  "You okay?" I asked as I held her close. I was afraid that I'd crossed some boundary and she'd now leave for good.

  "Oh, Max, I'm better than good," she whispered into my chest as she continued to rock her hips. I could feel myself swelling again, and as I looked down at her, I wondered if I should continue. She answered my question when she whispered, "Yes."

  The second time was less rushed and more languid. We easily fell into each other's rhythm and found a place where our lips mirrored the rest of our bodies and drove us back to the edge of pleasure for the second time. She gripped my hair and kissed me hard as we both climaxed again, and I groaned into her mouth as I felt her pulling me deeper inside as she rocked back and forth. I kissed her deeply and felt her pressing against me.

  "So," I whispered after we'd both started breathing normally again. "How about that security detail?"