by Helen Bright
Hearing him speak French so fluently really did something for me. It was the same whenever he was speaking to Ivan in Russian. And he looked so sexy tonight in his tux. He really filled a suit out well. I’d seen quite a few women giving him a bit more than an appreciative glance. I couldn’t blame them, but I didn’t like it one bit.
I turned to Nate, telling him I needed the ladies’. I probably could have waited a bit longer but I wanted a change of scenery. And these heels were killing me. I’d spent the last two weeks in trainers or flip-flops so my feet were screaming to be set free from their torturous, expensive prisons.
When I wobbled a little on the way to the bathroom, Nate looped his arm through mine and whispered, “No more champagne for you, sweetheart. You aren’t used to it.”
“I’m not drunk,” I protested. Pointing down towards my feet I continued, “It’s the shoes. They’re too high.”
“Right,” he said with a smirk as we stopped in front of the bathroom door. He glanced at Franco who was looking mighty fit tonight, I must say. Franco nodded back so Nate let go of my arm and gestured for me to go ahead.
I opened the door expecting to find a row of toilet cubicles, so you can imagine my surprise when I was greeted by what looked like a lounge, complete with a sofa and chairs. Opposite them, a long ornate gilt mirror sat above a row of sinks that rested in cream-coloured marble. A set of double doors later and I finally found the toilets. I’d almost turned around thinking I’d gone to the wrong place.
When I’d managed to straighten my dress, I made my way out to the mirrored room. It was cooler in here which helped to clear my head a little. I’d been lying to Nate. I knew I was a bit tipsy. My eyes looked slightly glassy and I swayed a little when I leaned towards the mirror to apply more lipstick.
Satisfied with my appearance, I made my way back to Nate, trying my best to walk in a straight line.
“I think you should switch to water for the rest of the night, Tess,” he said as we made our way back to Kolya.
“Good suggestion, Nate. Is it me or has it suddenly gotten warmer?”
“No, that’s just the alcohol hitting you. You aren’t used to drinking, Tess, especially champagne. You should have paced yourself.”
“I thought it was crap at first, but it’s not bad at all once you’ve had a few,” I told him.
“I’m sure you’re right, sweetheart.”
I stumbled a little and turned to face him when he caught me. He looked so suave and handsome in his fancy suit. He and Kevin made a lovely couple. I suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to tell him how much he meant to me. It came from out of nowhere and I couldn’t hold it in.
“I love you, Nate. And Kevin. You and Danny and Ivan are like my best friends in the whole world. Franco and Jonesy, too. I love you all.”
“And we all love you too, Tess,” he said while trying to get me to start walking again. “But I think we need to find your husband before the alcohol makes you profess your love to anyone else.”
“You don’t believe me,” I declared loudly.
“Honey, I do believe you. But I think your husband probably misses you right now so we need to find him, okay?” His tone was half humorous, half pleading.
“My husband,” I said with a giggle. “Can you believe it, Nate? I’m actually a married woman.”
“Boss, I think your wife might need a glass of water,” Nate said as we came to a stop in front of Kolya. He was standing next to a pretty blonde woman in a figure-hugging red dress. Her left hand was pressed against the lapel of his jacket.
“Are you all right, Tess?” Kolya asked.
I didn’t reply. I was too busy glaring at the blonde bitch who thought she could touch my husband.
“Why don’t you introduce us, Kolya,” the woman practically purred.
“Caroline, this is Tess, my wife. Tess, this is Caroline Dawson; she is—”
“Touching you,” I pointed out calmly.
Kolya moved slightly, as if to shrug the woman’s hand away, but all she did was loop her arm through his and lean into him.
“Pleased to meet you, Tess. Kolya didn’t mention you much when he took me to Israel last week. But then again, he’d kept me rather busy since we bumped into each other in Berlin.”
I saw Kolya roll his eyes but he didn’t deny it.
“Your husband is a hard man to satisfy, Mrs Barinov. He always has been,” she said while flicking an imaginary piece of lint from his shoulder.
I saw red. Anger and jealousy swept through my whole body at an alarming rate. My vision blurred a little—whether through alcohol or rage, I had no idea, but in that moment all I could think of was pulling the bitch off him, forcefully.
“Get your hands off my husband, you skank,” I ordered.
“Excuse me?” she said, though she let go of Kolya.
“Tess, Caroline, that’s enough,” Kolya declared. He moved next to me and placed his hand on my arm. I shrugged him off and stepped towards the woman.
“If I see you touching any part of my husband again, you will live to regret it. Do I make myself clear?”
“How dare you speak to me like this? Do you know who I am?” she questioned, brushing off my words as if I was no one.
“Yes, you’re a skank!” I stated.
“I’m the American attaché to—”
“So you’re a Yank skank. So what?” I yelled. “I don’t care whether you’re American, British, or from Timbukfuckintu. If you touch my husband again, I’ll—”
Before I could do or say anything more, Kolya grabbed me from behind, pinning my arms against my sides.
“Get off me, Kolya, you—”
“If you know what’s good for you, Tess, you’ll shut your fucking mouth and walk out of here quietly,” Kolya whispered in my ear angrily. I looked around and realised most of the room were staring our way. At me in particular.
I felt like I was two halves of a person. One half wanted to yell, “What are you lot staring at?” while the other half wanted to curl up and hide. In the end, the decision was made for me. Franco stood in front of me, Nate to the side—effectively blocking the skank from my view. Kolya let go of my arms yet stayed behind me, with Jonesy keeping up the rear of our procession as we left the venue.
19
Tess
Franco held the car door open as Nate helped me inside. The fresh air had hit me hard. I felt like the earth had tilted somehow because my vision had suddenly distorted. I closed my eyes for a moment and took a long, deep breath before I opened them again. I felt a little queasy but at least everything was the right way up now.
Kolya hadn’t followed me into the car and that didn’t sit well with me. He could be talking to her: the skank. I wanted to scream and yell at him; to call him out on his cheating and deceit. The anger I’d kept a lid on when we made our exit began to build once again. Fucking dirty, rotten, fickle men. They were all the same. Kolya had just proven that. It didn’t matter if they were rich or poor, married or single. None of them could be trusted. All were led by their dicks.
I glanced out of the window to find Kolya coming down the steps of the venue. He looked furious.
“Tess, I heard what Ms Dawson said in there and I know how it sounded, but I swear to you, she was just being a bitch. Nothing happened with her and the boss.” Nate sounded sincere but I just didn’t want to hear it. I didn’t feel like I could trust anyone in that moment. He was a man, after all. Lies seemed to roll off their tongues so easily. Especially the one getting into the car beside me.
Lucas pulled the car away from the curb as soon as Kolya had closed the door. I turned my face towards the window, away from his angry glare. Streetlights and billboards gave an almost peaceful, ambient glow to the luxurious interior; a complete opposite to the oppressive, turbulent atmosphere our combined ire had created.
Neither of us said a word. My hands were shaking from the amount of restraint I needed not to lash out at him—at the world—for the cruel twist i
n the hand I’d recently been dealt.
I thought I’d found happiness, love, and loyalty; I believed they could be mine for always. I should have known better. That would never be on the cards for someone like me.
When we arrived at the hotel, Nate got out and waited for Franco and Jonesy before opening the car door. Kolya got out first and reached inside to help me, ever the gentleman even though he was livid with me. I avoided his helping hand like it was contaminated with some deadly disease. He said nothing, continuing to walk beside me as we entered the lift which took us direct to the penthouse. Being here, in his space, made me feel slightly sick. Well, it was either that or the alcohol.
As soon as the door closed and we were alone, Kolya yelled, “Are you aware how much damage your outburst has caused tonight? Do you know how long it has taken me to get to this point with Monsieur Alleman? Only for your jealous tantrum to dissolve any semblance of confidence and trust he had in my company.”
“You want to talk about trust, Kolya? How about the trust I had in my husband not to fuck around with anyone while he was away on business?” I made sure I punctuated the word business with air quotes and a healthy dose of scepticism. I took off my shoes and threw them across the room.
“I had a valid reason to fly Caroline Dawson to Israel with me, but it wasn’t so I could fuck around with her.” He mimicked my air quotes when he said fuck around, which only served to infuriate me further.
“Does she work for you?” I asked as calmly as I could.
“No.”
“Have you slept with her?”
“Yes, but that was a few years ago.” He answered as if it meant nothing to him, but his words sent a piercing pain through my heart.
“Then what reason would you have to meet her in Berlin and fly her to Israel with you?” I cried.
“So she could get me a meeting with Eitan Harel.”
“And who the fuck is Eitan Harel?” I didn’t recognise the name, but then again, Kolya told me very little lately.
“He was the man who drove the getaway car the shooter escaped in. We finally tracked him down but he refused to see me. I threatened to pull out of a deal I was involved in with the Israelis, so Caroline Dawson got involved and between her and an Israeli minister, I finally got my meeting.”
I slumped down onto the sofa in shock, remembering everything that happened that day so clearly—the day I was shot saving Kolya’s life.
“Why, Kolya? Why would you need to speak to him? For God’s sake, he was involved in your assassination attempt. Why put yourself at risk?”
He walked over to the drinks cabinet and poured himself a scotch.
“I wanted to find the shooter and the one who arranged the hit. I need to know the threat has gone.”
“And did you get that information?” I held my breath for the answer.
“The shooter is dead, and there is no threat from the driver. I knew before I spoke to him he wouldn’t give me a name, but I hoped…” He slammed his glass down on the cabinet, spilling whisky over the polished wood. “Et tu, Brute.”
“Et tu, Brute?” I questioned.
“Those were his parting words. I threatened to pull out of a multimillion-dollar deal, pissed off a foreign government—and one of the world’s most formidable intelligence agencies—and all I got was, et tu, Brute.”
“Why didn’t you tell me, Kolya?”
“You couldn’t deal with it, Tess. Look at you now, sitting there pale and shaking. Just thinking about that day fills you with dread.”
“It doesn’t matter, Kolya. You should have shared it with me. I’m your wife. We are supposed to be a team. We should support each other in something like this.”
“Support?” he snapped. “I needed your support tonight at the event. And what did you do? You flew into a jealous rage, hurling insults in front of the very man I tried all night to gain favour from.”
I jumped up from the sofa, my fear replaced by anger once again. My head swam and my stomach churned but I was determined to have my say.
“She had her hands on you. She was touching you like she had an intimate claim on you. She insinuated you’d had a dirty weekend together.”
“It doesn’t matter what she said or did. You shouldn’t have acted the way you did. You are not in the foster home now, Tess. You can’t go screaming at people and threatening them.”
“Oh, believe me, Kolya, it wouldn’t have been a threat. I’d have knocked her over-whitened teeth straight down her throat if she’d touched you again.”
“You can’t keep doing this, Tess. You have to learn to act a certain way if you want to get anywhere in life. You have to have some semblance of control.”
“You’re nothing but a hypocrite, Kolya. Before we went in there tonight, you told me to just be myself. And let’s talk about control, shall we? I believe it’s what you nearly lost when that skeevy minister’s lips were pressing against the back of my hand as he was eye-fucking me. I’m just glad you didn’t see him fondle my boobs when I bumped into him on my way back from the loo.”
It was a lie, of course. I just wanted to see his reaction.
“He did what?” he bellowed. “I’ll fucking kill the bastard. Where was Nate? Why wasn’t he protecting you?”
I began to laugh; I couldn’t help myself. If he could only see himself from the outside looking in.
“There he is. Mr Control. Calm and collected as always,” I declared, gesturing towards him.
Within seconds, Kolya had me up against the wall, his face barely an inch from my own.
“Tell me you’re lying. Tell me he didn’t touch you that way,” he demanded.
I could have carried on riling him up even further, but having him this close, feeling his breath against my skin, it changed something. Feelings of anger and betrayal were replaced by desire and need. It happened so quickly—like the flick of a switch. I had to be honest with him. For everyone’s sake.
“Yes, Kolya, I lied. But now you know how I felt.”
“You are playing a very dangerous game, malyutka. You would do well not to push me tonight. You might not like the outcome.”
Malyutka. Little one. He’d stopped calling me that weeks ago. Is that how he still sees me? I couldn’t have that. Not anymore. I slipped my hand down to cup him through his trousers, feeling the outline of his length through the cloth.
“I’m not your little one, Kolya. I’m all woman. Your wife. I need you to be my husband. Now. Tonight. Make me yours. Prove that you want only me.”
I thought I heard him growl as his lips clashed against mine. My head hit the wall with the sheer force of his hungry kiss. He thrust his tongue inside my mouth and flicked it against my own, causing me to whimper with unfulfilled need. I felt a throbbing between my legs, my underwear damp from arousal. This was going to happen. Tonight. Finally, I’d know what it felt like to have him inside me.
Kolya’s lips left mine to trail kisses across my jaw and throat, along with intermittent bites; his tongue soothing, followed by his beard tickling the sensitive areas his bites left behind. I began to pant, wishing I was the same height as him so I could grind myself against his hardness—needing to feel some sort of friction to ease the ache that was building inside me. He bent a little, tugging the skirt of my dress up to my waist, then he lifted me up to bring my sex in line with his before rocking against me. After less than ten seconds I was ready to come; my head swam with the intensity of it. Kolya fumbled with the front of his trousers just as the room began to spin. I felt like I was on a fairground ride—one that wouldn’t stop. My stomach started churning again, making me feel sick. I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate on what Kolya was doing, but the rocking of our bodies wasn’t helping. I felt him pull my underwear to one side and something brush against me. I couldn’t let this go any further, not when the champagne I drank was threatening to make an appearance.
“Kolya, no. You have to stop. Please,” I panted. And thankfully, he listened, lowering me
carefully to my feet before stepping away.
“I’m sorry, Kolya,” I told him. I took a deep breath in, closing my eyes once again so I didn’t have to see everything spinning.
“Not as sorry as I am, malyutka.” I chanced opening my eyes, only to see him turn around and adjust his trousers.
“Kolya, you don’t understand. It’s the champagne, it—”
“Yes, of course. It made you brave. Made you feel like a woman instead of the child you are. You have proved your point well, my love. Around you, I lack control. This never should have happened. From now on, I shall leave you alone. On that you have my word.”
He left the room before I could even begin to protest.
I managed to grab the bin beside the cabinet just before I threw up—tears falling with every heave. A vomiting, sobbing mess dressed in expensive green satin. No wonder Kolya hadn’t hung around. He regretted being with me; I wasn’t what he wanted. He’d made that perfectly clear. I had to think about my future but I was in no fit state to do that tonight.
I heard the door open and looked up to find Nate walking towards me.
“Hey, Tess, don’t cry. It will be all right. I promise,” Nate said as he picked me up in his strong arms and carried me to the bathroom. He set me on the edge of the tub and gently wiped my face with a damp washcloth.
“Do you feel as if you need to throw up again?” he asked.
I shook my head, not the best idea under the circumstances. “I think I’ll need to take the bin to bed with me,” I told him.
“No problem, sweetheart. Let’s get you and this pail cleaned up so you can settle down and get some sleep. You’ll probably be hungover in the morning so I’ll bring you a glass of water and a couple of painkillers.”
He helped me stand then followed me into the bedroom, pulling the quilt back on the bed so I could climb inside.
“Want me to unzip your dress?” he asked.