Made Men 5: Dmitri's Denial (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic)
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Made Men 5: Dmitri’s Denial
Rayanna has a relentless stalker. She has her own bodyguard, but he doesn’t seem to be enough. When she gains the attention of a powerful Russian made man, she thinks life couldn’t get any more crazy. She tries denying the attraction, but Dmitri Sanclare is not a man to deny. She falls in love with him but refuses to let him know, and then it’s too late to tell him. She must fight to live another day to prove to Dmitri Sanclare that love is real and loving her is his destiny.
Dmitri has a hardened heart. He’s a millionaire criminal with connections and a past that Rayanna knows very little about. She accepts his non-commitment because the lust, the lovemaking, is so powerful neither can deny it. But when her stalker threatens Dmitri and then succeeds in abducting her, Dmitri must move heaven and earth to find Rayanna and make up for failing to protect her. His denial about loving her, needing her in his life, and feeling vulnerable around her could mean losing Rayanna forever.
Genre: Contemporary, Romantic Suspense
Length: 48,507 words
MADE MEN 5: DMITRI’S
DENIAL
Dixie Lynn Dwyer

Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
MADE MEN 5: DMITRI’S DENIAL
Copyright © 2017 by Dixie Lynn Dwyer
ISBN: 978-1-64010-183-8
First Publication: March2017
Cover design by Les Byerley
All art and logo copyright © 2017 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.
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PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
DEDICATION
Dear readers,
Thank you for purchasing this legal copy of Made Men 5: Dmitri’s Denial.
They say every man has his weakness, even one as powerful as Dmitri Sanclare, Russian made man. He can deny it all he wants, ignore the emotions, the powerful connection between him and Rayanna, but love so pure is too strong to ignore and deny.
A chance encounter, a glimpse of beauty so enticing Dmitri can’t seem to get her out of his head…is it lust? Is it love at first sight? Is it their destiny, to put aside their pasts, to take a chance and trust, love, accept what is right in front of them before it’s taken away?
Are they willing to accept it and all the risks surrounding them and their dangerous lives?
May you enjoy their story.
Happy reading.
Hugs,
Dixie
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
People seem to be more interested in my name than where I get my ideas for my stories from. So I might as well share the story behind my name with all my readers.
My momma was born and raised in New Orleans. At the age of twenty, she met and fell in love with an Irishman named Patrick Riley Dwyer. Needless to say, the family was a bit taken aback by this as they hoped she would marry a family friend. It was a modern day arranged marriage kind of thing and my momma downright refused.
Being that my momma’s families were descendants of the original English speaking Southerners, they wanted the family blood line to stay pure. They were wealthy and my father’s family was poor.
Despite attempts by my grandpapa to make Patrick leave and destroy the love between them, my parents married. They recently celebrated their sixtieth wedding anniversary.
I am one of six children born to Patrick and Lynn Dwyer. I am a combination of both Irish and a true Southern belle. With a name like Dixie Lynn Dwyer it’s no wonder why people are curious about my name.
Just as my parents had a love story of their own, I grew up intrigued by the lifestyles of others. My imagination as well as my need to stray from the straight and narrow made me into the woman I am today.
Enjoy Dmitri’s Denial and allow your imagination to soar freely.
For all titles by Dixie Lynn Dwyer, please visit
www.bookstrand.com/dixie-lynn-dwyer
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
About the Author
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Epilogue
Landmarks
Cover
MADE MEN 5: DMITRI’S
DENIAL
DIXIE LYNN DWYER
Copyright © 2017
Prologue
Rayanna Fiorre’s heart immediately started racing the moment she saw the long-stemmed red rose and a letter on her desk. She covered her throat with her hand and looked over her shoulder at Carlos, her guard. He was placing the grocery bags onto the counter. She had planned to spend the night at home, trying to relax, as she’d just finished completing a deal for the modeling firm she did subwork for.
She stepped back. “Carlos,” she whispered, her voice cracking. The instant fear had her shaking and looking around the apartment, toward the hallway and her bedroom. Was Puento here?
She thought about what he had done to her over two years ago, about the way she feared him, and about that uncertainty of not really knowing what he was capable of. It all rushed to her mind, flashbacks of the hits, the threats, and her weakness and inability to get help faster.
In a flash Carlos had his gun drawn. He placed his hand on her hip from behind her, and she gasped, pushed his hand away, and stepped back.
“Go by the door,” he said to her and walked toward her bedroom, using his military abilities to clear each room on his way.
As he disappeared, she started to shake, really shake, and held onto the knob of the door. She recalled Puento’s intense personality and the way he had held the gun to her head, had threatened her, and had demanded what he wanted two years ago. Then his sporadic, unexpected appearances, like a ghost, since that day she returned from Europe. She’d thought six months was plenty of time for the man to lose interest, but she had been wrong. In those six months away, she cut off her family, forced herself to be stronger mentally and physically, and now carried the knife on her thigh.
She dropped her hand to it as she remembered Puento showing up at an event or when she was vacationing, which finally led to her cousins hiring Carlos. She never told Mateus, Major, or the others what Puento had done to her or how much she feared him. She was embarrassed. They were made men, strong, resilient, and she normally felt pretty confident and capable herself, but somehow Puento destroyed that in her in such a short time—months. That’s all it took. Months. She swallowed hard, and a tear rolled down her cheek. Please come back, Carlos
. Please don’t let Puento be here.
The seconds seemed like minutes before finally Carlos returned, placed his gun into the holster, and immediately pulled her into his arms. She exhaled, but he felt tight, on edge.
“He isn’t here,” he told her.
“How did he get in here? How did he get by security?” He pulled back, looked down into her eyes, and shook his head. “I don’t know, but I’m going to find out. We need to call Mateus and Major. Now.”
Rayanna nodded, and Carlos took out his cell phone and made the call. She could hear her cousin Mateus yelling into the phone. Carlos’s expression was firm, his jaw tight and his eyes glued to her. This wasn’t his fault. She didn’t blame Carlos or anyone else. She blamed Puento. He was getting more and more brazen. His appearances sporadically at places she went, was one thing, but this? This was something entirely different. He got into her apartment. He was here, and she didn’t even know it until her eyes landed on the rose. She looked back at the card and the rose, her curiosity getting the better of her. She went to reach for the card, hesitating a moment when Carlos grabbed her hand.
“No. Don’t touch anything. Mateus called over to the police department, and the detectives are on their way.”
She looked up at him, and he lowered his eyes. The detectives were clueless and not helpful at all. It was as if Puento didn’t even exist. She touched his shoulder. “Carlos, this wasn’t your fault. I don’t blame you for this.”
“I should have remained focused and diligent in protecting you. I failed, and you could have been hurt by him, or even killed.”
She shook her head. “You were right here with me.”
“With my back turned, not even noticing the rose on the desk. No, Yanna, I fucked up, and it could have cost you too much.” He called her by the nickname her cousins often used, especially when they were concerned.
“He isn’t here.” She wanted to add more, but a knock sounded on the door.
He drew his weapon, asked who it was, and got a response.
“Turbo and Harley.”
He opened the door, and two of her cousins’ head security guys entered. They were big men, capable men, and soldiers of the family.
“Are you okay, honey?” Harley asked her and drew her in for a hug.
She embraced him, absorbing the effect his big strong arms had on her much smaller body.
“I’m fine. We’re both fine, that’s what matters,” she said, pulling back. Then Turbo pulled her into a hug.
“It could have gone differently,” Harley said as Turbo hugged her. Harley stared at Carlos, who remained straight-faced.
“Nothing did happen, though. Carlos was right here with me. We saw the rose and the card immediately. He drew his gun, told me to stand by the door, and did his thing and secured the apartment,” she said, not even looking at Carlos. Turbo and Harley stared at him, then looked at her, and nodded.
“We’ll get to the bottom of this. Find out where the breach in security was and how he got in here. Then we’ll take you to your cousins’ penthouse,” Harley said to her.
“No. I don’t need to leave here. The place is cleared, Carlos is with me, and I’m certain Mateus and Major will have more security here tonight. I’ll be fine.” She straightened her shoulders. A knock came at the door again. She jumped, her show of confidence immediately minimized by her reaction to the surprise sound. The three men noticed. Harley exhaled.
“That would be the detectives. They were assigning people to question security downstairs as we arrived,” Harley said and opened the door.
After immediate introductions, Harley took Rayanna’s hand and led her into the kitchen while Carlos and Turbo discussed information with the detectives.
“How are you really?” Harley asked.
She released a long sigh. She started to unpack the groceries.
“Tired of this. I thought he finally gave up. Moved on,” she said and then glanced toward the detectives. Unfortunately, it hadn’t been the first time something like this happened. They never found anything. No fingerprints, no evidence of forced entry—a mystery, one that seemed to lead the detectives to think she was making it up or trying to get a boyfriend jealous, as they assumed one of her cousins’ guards was her boyfriend. She exhaled, her heart still racing and her head starting to ache right at the temple—right where Puento held the gun to her head as he demanded her body.
“We’re going to have to work on finding him. You know that,” Harley said to her.
“Good luck with that. The last time I actually saw Puento was in Miami. Just strutted on by, giving me that evil look until Carlos showed up and scared him off.”
“Yeah, but then he started sending you shit, possibly drove you off the road that night before the Dominican Republic,” he added with a scowl.
All of her cousins’ guards were good men and wanted to protect her. At first she fought with Major and Mateus when they assigned Carlos to her as a personal security guard. A friend of theirs, a detective, had recommended Carlos. Now she was used to Carlos and looked to him for security, especially tonight. The moment she saw the rose and card, she’d stepped back and called to him. If she had been alone…
“Hey, you’re okay. Carlos was here, and you weren’t alone,” Harley said to her and covered her hand with his.
She looked up at him. He was a big man, a capable one. She needed the support and safety of their presence. If they only knew what Puento had done to her and how much she feared him, they wouldn’t be so calm. In fact, she was certain that her cousins would force her into living in one of their safe houses or homes and under heavy security. Was that what was needed? Was that the only way to keep Puento from getting to her? What did he want? Why was she his obsession?
“I’m grateful he was here,” she said and exhaled. He released her hand, and she continued to unpack the few items and put them away.
“So what happens next?”
“The detectives need to ask you some questions, Rayanna,” Carlos said to her, and she nodded as one of the detectives introduced himself. He shook her hand.
“Detective Morgan Yorn. I’m sorry that this happened. I understand there’s a history here of such things occurring and that you’ve filed several complaints, as well as an order of protection. You’re doing everything right, and we’re going to do our best to try and locate this Puento Guzmon,” he said, glancing at his notepad and then looking her over, sort of smiling.
She knew she was an attractive woman. Getting dates was not a problem, although she didn’t date anyone, stayed clear of all men because of her fears. She spoke a good game in front of her friends and even her cousins, but it was just that, a game, a pretend way to make her look strong and to act as if Puento was just some weird guy who still wanted her in his bed. It was way more than that.
“In the interim, I suggest that your security guard remains close by. We’ll work our end and see if we can find this guy and end this.”
He asked her a few questions about the relationship with Puento and when she last spoke to him or saw him in person.
“So there’s been no communication whatsoever?” he asked as if he didn’t believe her.
Here we go again. Another detective thinking she was making shit up, perhaps leading Puento on, maybe even lying about seeing him. The way this detective looked at her eyes, her lips, and even the cleavage exposed by her blouse had her crossing her arms in front of her chest and narrowing her eyes at him, but her emotions were raw, and her mind couldn’t think of a response because all she kept thinking about was Puento and his control, his power over her.
“Detective Yorn, he’s been harassing her for over a year,” Harley said to the detective, interrupting him and speaking for Rayanna. He even placed his hands on her shoulders as he stood behind her. “She hasn’t seen him or interacted with him. They dated less than a few months, and it’s pretty damn obvious he’s obsessed with her.
“She’s had several incidences and even a car acc
ident that we believe this man is responsible for causing. She has followed all procedures with the law, yet none of you have been able to locate this guy or arrest and charge him. I suggest you start looking at doing just that, or we’ll be forced to personally take over.”
“We don’t need a situation like that. I’ll personally look into this.” The detective stared at Rayanna.
Harley then stepped up his protectiveness a notch and wrapped an arm around her waist in a possessive manner as if he were personally involved with Rayanna—probably to warn off the detective, who passed her his card with a wink and said that he would be in touch and that she could call him with any questions she had or even just to talk.
As Carlos walked Yorn and the detective out, Harley released her and tapped her hip.
“We need to do more,” Turbo said.
“We don’t have much on Puento, except that he has the ability to disappear and appear without anyone seeing a damn thing. A fucking ghost is what he is,” Harley said to them.
She crossed her arms in front of her chest and hugged herself. Puento was a very different man from the one she’d met and dated for several months. Her cousins thought that he was purposely going after her, perhaps to get to the family somehow. They weren’t certain. It was as if the man didn’t really exist. Even the apartment he had wasn’t really his. She could remember his touch, gentle and caring at first, arousing, like a man who knew his way around a woman’s body. Sex was enjoyable and then intense. When he’d struck her and made demands on her to do things to him, she’d known that she needed to get away from him. If her cousins had known that Puento had been abusive and hurtful, they would have found him by now and killed him. They were angry enough. They didn’t need to know what he had done that night to scare her so badly that she disappeared for months to Europe.