by Kimber Chin
"Who died? Was it the baby?" Her worst fear. That a tiny defenseless baby could be dead because of her.
A deep sigh. "No one died, Brat. No one is going to die. It was only Grandfather interfering in my business again."
"Someone is going to die, Nikky. Everyone I meet dies." He would, too, especially as he wasn't taking the threat seriously. He wasn't preparing. "Promise me you'll be careful."
He glanced sharply at her. Her feelings must have shown. "Would you care, Tatyana? If something happened to me?"
"Of course I would." She looked away, at the limo waiting outside the front doors. "I care about all my victims." Too much. "Are we going somewhere?" Her face grew warm as she recalled this morning's limo ride. Would he touch her again? One more time before she killed him.
"You're going somewhere. Back to the boutique." His hand swept down her back, to the folds of her skirt. "You need a different look for tonight, something...older."
Older. She could do older. "Tonight?"
"You'll be meeting the rest of the family." His jaw jutted.
He wasn't happy about that. She wasn't, either. "Is that wise? To expose your entire family to me?" The death toll increased by the minute.
"It's expected, Brat. You'll be fine." He squeezed her hip, not understanding. It wasn't her she worried about. "Have fun shopping." The driver opened the limo door for her.
She stared up at his handsome face, a foreboding hanging over her, the specter of his impending death. Would this be it? Would this bossy, wonderful man be a corpse the next time they met? "Remember your promise, Nikky." She stroked his square chin.
"Which promise, Brat?"
She'd give him an incentive to delay death. "You promised not to die until," she grabbed his shoulder, balancing on tippy toes to whisper into his ear, "you fucked me properly."
Her face on fire, she fled into the limo.
Tonight, once this damn party was done, he'd deliver on a promise, one he'd been thinking about since lunch. Having finished his call, Nik sipped at his ice water, watching the crowd buzz around his fiancee.
"She's a success, Boss," Pavel, his number one man and the closest thing he had for a friend, commented.
"She looks like somebody's grandmother." A big straw hat sat on her head, a long floral dress swept the ground. He wanted older. He got older. The brat.
Tatyana turned, the dress nearly transparent with the light behind her, outlining every curve of her body. Nik hardened in response.
"The sexiest grandmotherȄ" A death glare from him cropped Pavel's inappropriate comment.
She was sexy, even in that ridiculous costume. And she was a success. Nik studied her with pride. Many women would have been intimidated by his family. Not his Tatyana. She was fearless.
There was a respectful lull in the conversation as Grandfather entered. He wasn't alone, pulling out the big guns for this party, a who's who of the family organization trailing in his wake. Let the jockeying for positioning start. Nik cringed, disliking the incessant and insincere groveling. Positions should be earned, taken by the strongest, not begged for. He moved protectively to his fiancee's side.
"Nikky." That damn name.
"Nikky," his cousin Stepan sniggered.
"Yes." The brat leveled an iron pulverizing gaze on that ambitious relative. "I'm the only one allowed to call Nikolay that." Men twice her age collectively gulped. Nik stared, the power in her voice captivating him. "It's a privilege of being Nikky's fiancee." Her eyelids lowered, lashes fluttering on her skin. "One of the many privileges."
She lifted her face up to him, offering those luscious lips.
They were shielded by that awful hat. He removed it, kissed her too briefly for his liking, and murmured into her ear, "Well done, Brat."
She beamed at him. "You like my outfit?" She held out her rose covered skirt.
"No." He could see her white thong through the material. "I don't." He didn't want men staring at his fiancee's ass. A ripple of noise through the group reminded him they weren't alone. Later. They would talk about her clothing in private.
"When is the happy day, Nikolay?" His cousin, Stepan, recovered from the scolding.
That earned him another stern look from Nik's fiancee as she replied, "When I decide it will be." Damn, she had it in for his cousin. Why? Had he dared disrespect her? Nik stepped closer. "Nikky's first priority is and always will be the family, not our wedding."
"Not true." Nik took her hand, raising it to his lips. "You are my first priority, Tatyana." He kissed her knuckles.
"But that's the same thing, isn't it, Nikky?" She tilted her head back, those frizzy curls rearranging on her shoulders. "As I'm part of the family, what you do for the family, you do for me."
A chuckle reverberated behind him. Fuck. He forgot about Grandfather. "Well said, Granddaughter."
"Grandfather." She released a delighted squeal. The brat was a good actress. "No one mentioned you'd be here." She kissed both of his cheeks.
"I wouldn't miss it." There was actual warmth in the old man's voice. "Let's see that ring of yours." He clasped her left hand. "Interesting choice, Nikolay." Grandfather didn't look up, his gray head bent.
He thought it was because of Grandmother, rubies had been her stone. "Tatyana wore red the night we first met." The brat had been covered with blood. That was the reason. It had nothing to do with desiring a love like his grandparents' had.
"Was that why?" Grandfather's voice was tight.
"Isn't it romantic? That Nikky remembers what color I was wearing when we met?" the brat gushed, breaking the tension. "Though I do wear red a lot so it could have been a lucky guess. I don't know why I wear so much red. I don't plan on it. It just happens. I'll be wearing white and then splat, the next I know it, I'm wearing red."
Splat? "Tatyana," Nik cautioned. She should respect the dead.
"I think the ring's beautiful, absolutely beautiful," she finished off.
"That's all that matters, Granddaughter." Grandfather gave Tatyana an indulgent smile, telling Nik he knew her rambling was meant to deflect his attention. "Let me make introductions. I've brought some dear friends with me."
Tatyana moved through the room at the grandfather's side, a kernel of hope blossoming in her chest. Surely, death couldn't take all these people. Perhaps she'd been going about this all wrong the past few years, isolating herself from everyone else, living in the middle of nowhere, building her anonymous, non-contact internet business. Perhaps she should have spread the risk so thinly that death became confused.
Perhaps, her gaze flew to Nikky's handsome face, the people she cared for would live.
Perhaps.
"Are you from the Vegas area, cousin Tatyana?" smarmy Stepan asked.
She didn't like him. Not at all. He asked question after question, trying to trip her up, and when he looked at Nikky, his expression promised bad things. "Do I look like I'm from the Vegas area, cousin?" She evaded his question.
Stepan's laugh held no joy. "True, why you're such a delight." A sarcastic twist on delight.
"Not that Nikolay likes local girls. I always thought he'd pair up with one of those sophisticated New York women."
Implying she wasn't sophisticated. "Although my mom was born and raised in New York, sophistication isn't tied to one city." Asshole.
The grandfather's head turned. "Was she, Granddaughter?"
She had made a mistake. She felt it. Though she didn't know what that mistake was. "She was the strongest woman I've ever known."
"You miss your mother." While his face conveyed the appropriate sympathy, the grandfather's eyes were cool with calculation.
"Of course I do." Like hell he'd manipulate her emotionally. "As you miss your wife."
The entourage gasped, all conversation around them stopped, and a shark-like smirk of satisfaction oozed from cousin Stepan. She made another mistake. Damn it, she didn't know the rules to this twisted game.
What was allowed? Was there anything in those rule
s about telling the grandfather off?
Tatyana looked over her shoulder at her fiance. Or would that cause more problems for Nikky? He patted the arm of the elderly uncle he was talking to and moved toward her, her ludicrous hat, fake flowers and all, slapped against his thigh.
"We have much in common. Thursday, we'll have lunch, my newest granddaughter and I, to discuss our similarities," the old man declared, broking no refusal.
Hell no. She stepped forward, hands clenched.
"Tatyana." Nikky drew her back, his arms wrapped around her, her hat crushed between their bodies.
"Nikky." Her smile required extra effort. "Wonderful news." Far from it. "Your grandfather has invited us to lunch Thursday."
"Has he?" His body stiffened. His muscles contracted. "That is wonderful news. And a surprise."
Tatyana leaned against Nikky, his strength at her back. Two against one. Take that.
Grandfather. Her chin lifted defiantly.
Eyes, older but no less observant, glowed. "The space freed up and as I enjoy your charming fiancee's company..." A shrug of elegantly clad shoulders. "Hmm...but then, I recall you already have a lunch meeting Thursday, don't you, Nikolay? How unfortunate. It seems it will be only Tatyana and I." His smile at Tatyana conveyed triumph.
"I don't have a lunch meeting, Grandfather," Stepan offered.
Neither man acknowledged the cousin. "That's the amusing part," Nikky ground out, no amusement in his voice. "My lunch meeting has also been cancelled. I'll be able to join you, after all."
"That is amusing." A dry retort. "Then, it'll be the three of us." Nikky's grandfather tilted his head to Tatyana, conceding defeat.
Because they'd won; the two of them against the world. Tatyana wiggled in victory. Nikky's fingers spread over her stomach, hot through the thin fabric. "Are you tired, Brat?" It was a great facsimile of genuine concern. She nodded her head, her silence not allowing the grandfather another opening.
"She's had some late nights," Nikky said louder. The cousin snickered. Tatyana's upper lip curled with distaste. "Everyone." Her temporary fiance inclined his head. Tatyana smiled.
"Grandfather, we'll see you Thursday, if not sooner."
Four
"A frown may be trusted. A smile cannot."ȄSergei Kaerta
"I told the old man not to interfere and, the moment my back is turned, he dares to pull that shit." Curses spewed out of Nikky's mouth as he paced the hotel room. "I'm not taking it anymore. I'm going to go back there and..." He picked up his jacket, striding toward the door.
He was going to get himself killed. That's what he was going to do. Going up against his grandfather alone without her there to protect him. "You'll do nothing." She stood in front of him, hands on her hips. "Absolutely nothing."
His brown eyes narrowed. "You don't tell me what to do."
He was determined to die, the ass. "Someone has to. You're acting like an idiot."
"Move out of the way, Brat."
She wouldn't let him die, not without a fight.
"You will not tell me what to do." She dropped her straw hat on the carpeted floor. "I am not a child." She stomped on it once, then again for good measure. "I'm your fiancee, your equal." She pushed him. He stepped back, watching her, slack jawed. "An adult."
She pulled the granny dress over her head. "I knew what he was doing." She scrunched it into a ball. "Didn't I?" She kicked it. "I called you over. Didn't I?" She pushed him again. "I dealt with him. Didn't I?" His mouth twitched. "We dealt with him. Together. Didn't we?"
She unhooked her bra. "So, if you think you're going to rush off..." She threw it to the floor.
"And get yourself killed." His shoulders shook. "Before you fulfill your damn promise." His laughter added fuel to her temper. "You have another think coming." She pulled off her thong panties. "Stop laughing, you idiot." And beat him with them. "I'm trying to tell you something serious."
"Enough." He caught her hands. His laughter faded as he stared down at her. She stared right back up at him. Damn, he was a handsome man. And strong, her arms secured. "You're completely naked." The leisurely way he looked her up and down made her skin heat, her nipples pebble.
"And what are you going to do about it, huh?" She stuck out her chin.
He released her. "Get on the bed, Brat," he ordered, pointing to it. "Now."
"You cannot boss me around." But she did as she was told, scurrying on hands and knees to the head, her bare butt exposed. She flipped onto her back, mattress bouncing, and crossed her arms under her breasts, her body stiff as a board. "Now what, ass?"
"Now." He shrugged his gun and holster off his shoulders, laying them on the dresser. "I teach you respect." He slowly unbuttoned his shirt, exposing a tanned, muscled chest.
"And." He pulled back his belt buckle. "I deliver on a promise." His pants dropped. White boxers. Powerful legs covered with dark hair. Black socks.
"Respect is earned, not taught." Her mouth went dry. There were silver nicks along his flat stomach. Another scar on his shoulder. He was a man who had known violence.
But he wouldn't hurt her. She didn't know why she knew that. She simply did.
"Then I will earn it." He crawled over the bedspread toward her. She wiggled backward.
"Don't move." He gave another order as he circled her ankle.
"You are a very bossy man." His hands felt so good as he stroked up her legs. "Do you know that?"
"Yes, my fiancee may have mentioned it." He followed with his lips. "Once or twice." He reached her sensitive inner thigh. She clamped her legs shut. "Open." She hesitated for a second before obeying. "And be still."
How could she be still when he was... His fingers reached... Her toes curled. Then, his mouth, his wicked, bossy mouth. "Nikky!" She grasped a fistful of his hair.
He chuckled. "That is still attached to my head, Brat." She loosened her hold.
She grabbed onto the mattress, instead. "Stop, Nikky, it's too much. I can't. It..." But he didn't listen. He never listened. That damn fiance of hers. He licked, his tongue rough, kissed, his lips tender, nipped, his lip-covered teeth applying the right amount of pressure.
The combination, it was too, too much. "No, please, no!" She twisted, it was unbearable.
Then, he covered that one spot, sucking long and hard. "Nikky!" She arched, right off the bed, her world exploding.
What had he done to her? That ass. "Nikky, Nikky, Nikky," she sighed as she collapsed.
Those last Nikky's sounded dazed. As they should be. Her first orgasm. Nik grinned, pleased with himself, stroking through her dampened hair. Frizzy there too, like the hair on her head. He moved up her body, to better see her face. Her cheeks were flushed, a trail of tears from her closed eyes. The covers around her were in delightful disarray. She was a passionate woman, his fiancee. "Do you respect me now, Brat?"
One eye opened. "I'm beginning to appreciate you more."
He laughed. She wouldn't give him anything he hadn't earned fair and square. He liked that.
He caressed her small breasts, so soft and responsive. He liked her. She touched him, also, gently at first, then more aggressively, lower and lower. "Would you like to show that appreciation?" he asked as he pulled down his boxers.
Tatyana spun around in his arms. She was naked. He was naked. And snoring, sprawled out, his arm thrown over her waist. "Are you going to sleep all day?" It was nearly seven a.m.
He groaned, lifted his head from the pillow, looked at the alarm clock. "Let me sleep, Brat."
Buried his face in the pillow again.
He was wasting precious moments of living, idiot man. She slipped out from under him, padding around the hotel room naked. There it was. She picked up the pen and paper, returned to the bed, leaned back, and used his bare ass as a head rest. "Do you have health insurance?" Did crime families have health insurance?
Something mumbled. Sounded like yes.
"I'll need a copy of it." If it wasn't adequate, she'd top it up. Plus, she'd require
the information to check him in. She stroked his hairy legs. He couldn't pass for a Tatyana. No, not at all. "Do you have any medical conditions paramedics should know about?"
He placed her pillow over his head. "Sleep deprived."
That must be a no. He did look, and Tatyana remembered last night, her toes curling, act like a very healthy man. "What's your blood type?"
"B Negative." He groaned, rolling onto his back, an arm covering his eyes. Dislodging Tatyana. She snuggled into his shoulder, instead.
B Negative. "That's fairly rare." She bit her lip and he was a big guy, he'd need a lot of blood.
"I'm O Negative." A universal donor. "In a pinch, I could donate." She had before. Not that it helped.
"Units set aside," he mumbled.
Very smart. Tatyana nodded, more optimistic. "I'll need that information, too." She tapped the pen against her lips, thinking. This was a rare opportunity, knowing her next victim so well. Maybe, just maybe. "I don't want you to die, Nikky."
He placed his arm around her. "I'm not going to die."
She thought about that. "When death comes..."
"We'll work something out. Death and I are old friends."
"You need some new friends." She hated death. Hated it. Death took away everyone she cared for and she was sick of it. "Do you have a will?"
His body tensed. "No."
He didn't think one was needed. She hoped he was correct. "You should have one. Everyone needs a will." To ensure loved ones got a piece of them, so they wouldn't be forgotten.
"I don't." He sat up, bouncing her off of him again, and swung his legs over the side of the bed. "Because I don't own a damn thing." He didn't own anything? But he gave the impression of wealth. He walked to the bathroom. "Order breakfast, Brat. Tell them I'll have the regular." He shut the door.
He didn't own a damn thing. Nik still fumed over that, hours later, as he moved through the casino. Everything he had was doled out to him by Grandfather. Like a damn dog, waiting for his bowl to be filled.
A dog on a short lease. What he was doing prowling the floor, he didn't know. Normally, he'd be at the office, working through mounds of paperwork, but today, he was restless.