His Smile: A Mafia Romance

by Katerina Winters

  “Oh, I didn’t think you had a boss. Or at least not one that was around like you are to your men.”

  She could see his eyes softening a bit in laughter at her statement, but his expression remained stony, he was still too angry. “I do have a boss, but he is in Russia. Normally, I only have to see that old bastard a couple of times a year, but now he wants me and Dimitri to go with him and his son, Boris, to Jamaica to make some fucking deal.”

  She stayed quiet for a few moments, waiting for the other shoe to drop. When nothing came, she frowned. “Is that it?”

  His eyebrow shot up in angry confusion. “Yes. He wants me to leave tonight. If it was anyone else, I would send Dimitri to kill them for the interruption, but killing Vladimir would mean I would have to kill his son Boris and that would be more trouble than it is worth.”

  Letting out a large exhale, she slapped him lightly on the shoulder before sitting heavily back onto the bed. “Oh my God, Roman is that it? I thought it was something serious. You looked so angry I just knew someone died or something.”

  “It is serious, I will be gone for a week, maybe more,” he growled, trying to make her see his point.

  “But you will come back, right?”

  “Yes, of course,” he frowned.

  “Ok then, that’s not that bad. It’s not ideal, and I can’t say I am not disappointed, but you really had me scared,” her heart was still trying to calm down from the brief scare. “I assumed it was something “work” related,” she made a show of making air-quotes when she said work.

  Now, he was smirking. “Yes, well I’m painfully disappointed.”

  Grabbing her hand, he placed it on the front of his boxers, and she could feel the curve of his erection twitch under her hand igniting the fires within her once again. Before she could second guess herself, she curled her hands suggestively at the waistband of his shorts.

  “If you want, I could help you with that,” rising to her knees so that she was facing his abs directly.

  The look of controlled hunger that passed over his face only aroused her more. Cupping her face with both of his large hands, he pulled her upwards, gently forcing her to stand from the bed onto the ground.

  “Trust me, I will take that offer and more when I return. I will not rush what will happen between us.”

  Looking down at his chest, she stared past the sprinkling cover of hair to the tattoos beneath fighting back an unexpectant urge to cry.

  “I’m sorry I ruined our plans last night,” wrapping her arms around his waist she rested her head against the heat of his bare skin. “If I didn’t spend last night crying who knows I could have already been chained to your bed,” she teased.

  A deep sound of laughter rumbled beneath her ears. After a few seconds, he pushed at her shoulders and held her. “Get dressed, I want to show you something.”

  She thought about teasing him and telling him he should be the one to dress her since he was the one who undressed her, but she could tell by the rigidness in his shoulders and firm set of his mouth that he was a man at the edge of his control. Throwing on the pair of jeans she had packed and a loose fitting black and silver crop-top t-shirt she padded in her socks behind the giant man who still only wore his black boxer briefs. Her heavy sigh of appreciation at the muscles in his broad back was interrupted by two eager noses thrusting into her thighs as she stepped off the stairs.

  “Hi there, babies,” she cooed at the two happy dogs seeking some morning attention. Stroking both of their heads, she looked up to see that Roman had paused, looking back at her with a shake of his head at her use of baby voice.

  Rolling her eyes at him, she gave the two hounds one last pat before resuming her path behind him. Following him into the garage, she gave him a quizzical stare when he stopped next to his truck.

  “Is this your way of calling me an Uber and kicking me unceremoniously from your bed?”

  Humor sparkled in his eyes as his brows furrowed. “Normally, wouldn’t we have had to have fucked first?”

  Her face heated at his choice of words. His naturally harsh accent somehow made the profane word even more jolting. Roman seemed to immediately recognize what his words did to her, and she held her breath as he stepped closer to her, closing the distance between them.

  “I could fuck you against this car right now,” he grumbled, his hands settling on her hips with flexing agitation.

  Tilting her head up, she moaned when his lips met hers in a wet consuming kiss. “I wouldn’t stop you,” she whispered.

  Pulling away from her, his eyes crackled with checked energy and he murmured something foreign and most likely obscene under his breath. Stepping away from her, he walked past the truck towards the fourth car bay swiping at a switch on the wall as he went. The fluorescent lights overhead came to life, revealing a vehicle covered in a taupe cloth tarp. Grabbing a fistful of the material Roman snatched it away from the car uncovering a bright cream yellow two-door Mercedes GT Roadster.

  For the next few minutes she didn’t move or say anything, she just stared at the beautiful gleaming car in front of her. Slowly, she turned her head and looked to Roman questioningly who wore a satisfied smirk.

  “Yes, it is yours,” he answered her unspoken question.

  She turned back to stare again at the car for a few seconds and then turned back to him with another silent questioning expression.

  “Happy birthday,” he supplied, amused by her stunned silence.

  She caught the brief look of surprise in his widening eyes when she launched herself at him. Recovering with fast reflexes, he caught her perfectly mid-air, allowing her to wrap her long legs around his strong frame. Kissing him with a passion-filled frenzy, she felt him lean back against his black truck with a grunt of satisfaction as his hands tightened on each cheek of her ass. She did her best to keep up the lead in her assault, but the grinding of his hips against the center of her jeans was maddening. His frustrated but pleased groans humming against her lips made her moan for more.

  The sudden, startling vibration of the garage door coming up jarred them. Frozen in position they watched as the door revealed Dimitri standing on the other side looking down at his phone.

  The next movements all happened at once and in perfect synchronization, and Rahina was sure she would laugh about it later. Absently she felt one of Roman’s hands disappear from her backside and appear directly extended in front of them. Looking up from his phone, Dimitri’s blue eyes widened as he realized what he had interrupted and what Roman was aiming at directly at him. Holding his arm out with unwavering steadiness, Roman aimed a black gun directly at his captain’s head accompanied by a look so severe it made her heart jump. Dimitri didn’t even blink as he calmly pressed the garage remote in his other hand, activating the garage to slowly close back again.

  Enclosed in the silent confines of the garage again and still wrapped around Roman’s body, Rahina couldn’t stop the oncoming shaking laughter. She wanted to ask where in the hell did he get the gun, but she couldn’t stop laughing.

  “I am going to kill both of them,” he promised as she dissolved into harder laughter.

  Chapter 14

  With his hand wrapped around the top of the SUV's door frame, he braced himself as his tongue glided against hers, his other hand buried in her hair, holding her head steady. Rahina could hardly catch her breath as he moved his mouth over hers. Sitting sideways on the seat and partially out the open car door where he stood, she had asked for one more goodbye kiss before he boarded the large white jet with Dimitri. Rahina let out a small hurt whimper as he nipped at her lower lip. Her pulse spiked as she felt the cruel smile against her lips. Opening her eyes, she let out a pained sigh at the sight of his heavy-lidded eyes so close to hers giving her only glimpses of his dark gray eyes as he looked from her and back to her lips before placing another kiss against her bruised lips.

  Feeling him pull away, she quickly wrapped her long legs around his lean waist, trapping him to her. In the
distance, she could hear Dimitri shout something in Russian from the steps of the plane towards them and smiled at Roman’s angry growl in response.

  “Take me with you,” she whined with a pout. “I’ll be nice and quiet on the trip; you won’t even know I am there." She purposely made her eyes large and hopeful and her expression sulkier.

  Rahina could see Roman's emotions warring through him. He wanted to laugh, but he was too angry to let himself.

  “I wish I could, I even considered it a few times already,” he shook his head and leaned further into the opening of the door, causing his bracing arm that held the door frame to flex under the movement. “But this is not that type of trip. Where we will be going, and the people we will be dealing with are dangerous. I cannot help work this deal Vladimir wants and keep an eye on you at the same time.”

  She nodded glumly. “I understand.”

  Pulling away from her, Roman gave her one last unreadable stern look before turning around.

  Jumping out of the vehicle and followed him across the tarmac. “But what if you get seduced by some hot island girl while you are away?” she moaned as she followed him part way up the stairs of the jet.

  Turning in the jet door's entrance, he pursed his lips in thought and gave her a halfhearted shrug. “I will try not to let that happen.”

  Her mouth fell open with appalled shock. “Fine,” she crossed her arms in a huff. “And I will try to ignore all the hot dudes throwing themselves at me while you are gone.”

  Leaning partly out the door, his smile widened with a chaotic edge. "Lean a little closer, baby, so I can wrap my hand around that beautiful neck of yours and whisper in your ear just what exactly I will do to you if you do not try and resist," he threatened.

  That brand of delightful fear only he could invoke bubbled in her chest, and she looked away with a foolish grin and caught one of the ground control attendants’ eyes who was standing next to the detachable ladder she was standing on.

  “Sir, please if you don’t mind please wheel the ladder far, far away from the criminal threatening me.”

  Already more than ready to move the stairs for the ready pilot and crew, the man obliged and began slowly rolling the stairs away from the jet with her still standing on it. Unable to keep up her fake anger, she turned back and waved at Roman who was now seated at a window. He didn't wave back, but he didn't take his eyes from her either, not until the plane turned away from her and taxied toward the runway.

  “So, what do we do now?” Walking down the stairs, she stopped in front of Mosca and looked at him expectantly.

  “We?” He gave her a curious look as he turned back to the parked car near the small building terminal. “We are going back to the house, and then I am going to have a drink, and you can do whatever you like."

  Walking along side of him, she glanced back at the sound of the jet taking off, staring at it climb into the air before turning back to Mosca. “I’m pretty sure you heard Roman when he said I could stay at his place while he was gone and that if I needed anything…”

  “Rahina, don’t…” Mosca turned and gave her a look of warning, a look she was quite familiar with throughout her life. Standing with his back to the wind, some of Mosca’s light brown hair fell in front of his face causing him to sweep a hand through it to comb it back. The classic undercut look and the almost blonde brown hair on the lean young man gave him an overall boyish, James Dean look. Rahina could easily picture Mosca holding a cigarette in one hand and leaning against a motorcycle giving some young woman a steamy stoic look, promising all sorts of dark adventures. But instead, he was here—at her mercy.

  “And he said,” she said pointedly, pretending she did not hear him. “If I needed anything to ask Mosca. Well, Mosca here I am…in need.”

  “No,” turning, he shook his head as he walked to the SUV. His accent naturally clipping his words. “This will be like a small vacation for me, I will not let you ruin it.”

  “Mosca! How can you be so heartless? You know I am in need of comfort because of this morning’s devastation.”

  “I’m sure Roman comforted you.”

  "He tried until someone interrupted,” she said deliberately.

  Mosca stopped, and she could see his grip on the car door handle tighten. "That wasn't my fault. I had no choice," she could hear the tired anguish in his voice. "And Roman already made it clear how displeased he was by the interruption."

  "And now it's your turn to make it up to me…" She replied chipperly, patting him on the shoulder.

  Her phone began to ring, cutting her off. Looking at her phone, she stifled a groan at the flash of her sister's contact screen.

  “Saved by the bell, Mosca,” she wagged a finger at his more than relieved face.

  Climbing into the backseat of the SUV, she slouched in the seat, preparing herself for a long conversation before answering her sister's impatient ring. It took the whole ride back to the house to assure Rubina that her world wasn't in flames due to not getting the principal position. Just like probably everyone else she knew, Rubina found out about the results just like Roman. Her now two-day silence on social media compared to Nadia’s frantic posting blitz said everything. No sooner did she finally disconnect with her still worried sister, she was hounded by messages from Mario wanting to know if she was all right and asking to meet up so they could commiserate together.

  But she didn’t want to, not yet. Right now, all they could offer was sadness and outrage at the company’s decision, but she was past that point now. Or at least she desperately wanted to be. Maybe the first night she would have wallowed in their anger and offered pity, but the strength Roman gave her was what she needed. Now, she needed to incubate in quiet determination. She had to pull herself out of this crater life put in her path. She needed to plan. First thing she needed to do was talk to Jason. In her dance career thus far the best thing that could have happened to her was meeting Jason Davies. Their personalities were like the moon and the sun, they couldn't be more different nor any more dependent on the other. Where Jason was serious and methodical in his approach to everything in life, Rahina was impulsive and carefree, but the differences only seemed to make the foundation of their friendship stronger. Immediately, they recognized the talent in one another and admired the shared work ethic. When they danced together, the world around them faded, boundaries disappeared, and the dance came alive. She needed to speak to him about her plans. Sending him a text, asking if they could meet; she smiled at his instant response happily confirming for tomorrow. Letting out a sigh, she looked up finally, noticing that they were stopping at a large metal gate.

  Pressing the button on the partition separating the front seat from the backseat, her eyes widened as she watched through the front window as they pulled past the now open gate and down the long white driveway. On both occasions, arriving and departing, her mind had been too preoccupied to notice just what Roman’s house looked like. Located in what seemed to be the back of an older, established wealthy neighborhood Roman’s house sat at the end of a private street that backed into the woods. Past the solid metal gate, the driveway wound up a gentle slope where the modern glass and white concrete modern structure sat. It wasn’t the largest nor was it the most lavish house she had ever seen, but with its large dark windows and strong straight modern lines of the house was utterly Roman. Imposing, but not flashy. Modern but not cold. His house was barren of any clutter, but it seemed real and lived in at the same time.

  Hopping out of the car, she followed Mosca to the garage door and paused when he paused near the interior kitchen door. They could both hear the excited snuffles and clicking of dog nails on the other side of the door.

  “I stay in the guest house,” Mosca pointed a thumb over his shoulder. “I monitor all the cameras and security around the house. If you need anything—important," he emphasized, giving her a droll look. "Just pick up any of the phones in the house, and I will answer."

  Getting the hint, she rolled her e
yes and nodded. Turning from him, she pushed open the kitchen door and greeted her companions for the night.

  ~*~

  Standing in the garage, Rahina stared at the yellow sports car. Her car. She felt giddy just thinking of it as hers. Walking around it, she let her hand glide along its cool shiny surface, stopping at the driver's side door. Opening the door, she spotted the keys sitting on the dashboard along with a note. Sliding into the cream leather seat, she inhaled the new car scent as she plucked the note off the dash. It was from Mosca, simply telling her he programmed the front gate and garage door frequency into the buttons in her car. Letting out a squeal of delight, Rahina pressed the button to open the garage and pushed the button tentatively for the ignition. The car rumbled silently to life beneath her, which only made her squeal even louder in pure elation.

  Whoever said money couldn’t buy happiness was a dumbass, she thought as she zipped down the city streets to the café where she was meeting Jason. Parking it further down the street she got out and walked to the designated meeting spot. She figured it wouldn’t be the best idea to park her new expensive car in front of the café where Jason could see it. This meeting was about her being devastated about what happened, and somehow, she didn’t think he would quite believe her if he saw her new ride.

  Pushing through the glass door, she walked through the jingling of bells at the top and looked around the dimly lit café. Jason waved at her from the far side of the room near the back windows, she smiled and walked over. Giving him a deep hug, she plopped her purse onto a nearby chair and slid into the wooden chair. The waitress came by and took her order for a large French vanilla latté and left them alone.

  “So," Jason began leaning back in his chair with an uneasy sigh. “Are you going to leave?”

  Thanking the waitress that reappeared with her order, Rahina took a tentative sip of the steaming liquid before answering. “I think I have to. I don’t want to, but how can I stay?”