"Can I ask you a personal question?" Leah sits in her seat, resting her chin in her palms as she watches me prepare our meal on our plates.
"I'll make you a deal. I'll answer a question if you answer one of mine." I place a glass in front of her.
"Personal?" She draws figure eights on the countertop.
"Yes. I'd like to get to know you better." With both plates in my hands, I jerk my chin, "Let's sit in the living room and watch a movie while we eat." Leah stands, following me. I wait for her to take a seat on the sofa.
"Is it true the Volkov's are a mafia family?"
"Yes." I pass a plate and take my seat next to her. Grabbing the remote, I turn on the TV, settling on a random movie channel, and wait for her reaction.
"Ooh. Fools Rush In. One of my favorites." Leah smiles, then lifts her fork, taking a bite. She moans as she finishes her bite then gets her fork ready for another. "The man can cook," she moans around her fork again after taking another taste of food, and the sound goes straight to my cock.
"My turn," I tell her then take a bite of my food. "Will you have dinner with me again?" My question is not what she was expecting, and her fork freezes mid-air as she goes to take another bite. Leah turns her head, looking at me.
"That's it? You're wasting your one question to ask me out?"
I continue to eat my meal.
"Like a date?" she questions as if she might have misunderstood me.
"Yes. A date," I clarify. What she doesn't know is the date will be a first for me. I've had women—plenty of them. But I didn't date until now. Leah makes me crave things in life I've never wanted before.
"I'd like that." She finally puts me out of my misery, and the smile that follows seals the deal.
Finished with our dinner, we sit and watch the remainder of the movie. It was your typical boy meets girl; they fall in love and live happily ever after. I never watch shit like this. I don't cook women dinner, and I sure as hell don't watch sappy ass movies with them. I fuck. That's it.
But Leah is different. Fuck, what is this woman doing to me? I steal glances at Leah, her eyes glued to the TV screen, and wonder, does shit like that exists? She's in danger already. Am I selfish by pursuing her? My family has enemies. Being the son of Demetri Volkov has put a mark on my life more than I can count. If I cross the wrong person, they will kill her just to watch me suffer. Am I willing to risk all of that by loving someone?
By the time the movie has ended, Leah has snuggled into the corner of the plush cushion and is fast asleep. I glance at the time. It's late. Instead of waking her, I stand. Tucking my arms beneath her, I lift Leah from the sofa, pulling her close to my chest, as she buries her face in the crook of my neck. Carrying her upstairs to my room, I lay her down, gently on my bed, remove her glasses, and set them on the nightstand. Then I pull the comforter from the foot of the bed and cover her.
Moving to the chair in front of the window, I sit in the dark, watching her sleep.
10
Leah
Before I open my eyes, I am aware I'm not in my own bed. The smell lingering on the pillow is what tips me off. I'd know Nikolai's scent anywhere.
Opening my eyes, I blink a few times and rub my palms over my face as I sit up. To my right, I spot my glasses on the table beside the bed and slide them on. The once blurry bedroom comes into focus, and I take in every detail. Nikolai's room is like the rest of his house—framed in dark, rich wood with dark gray walls. I can tell by the view coming from the floor to ceiling window, I'm on the second floor. Nikolai's four-poster bed is larger than the average king and is the same dark finish as the rest of the house. It also sits at least three feet off the floor. My gaze lands on the space beside me, still neatly made, and I realize I slept alone. I don't miss the loose change, wallet, and empty glass sitting on the table with the smallest amount of brown liquid resting in the bottom. Nikolai didn't sleep in the bed with me, but he was in here at some point. I should probably be freaking out because I just woke up in his bed, but I'm not. The only thing I feel is safe. It dawns on me last night was the first night in a long time the monster that haunts my dreams at night was silenced.
Smiling, I blow out a breath and throw myself back on the pillow. Being in Nikolai's home feels like a dream. I know he was just being a good guy by taking care of me yesterday and letting me crash here since I must have fallen asleep during the movie. But what's the harm in taking a few minutes to pretend I'm in his bed for a different reason. A girl can dream, right? Only in my dreams could a man like Nikolai be interested in a girl like me. Nikolai Volkov, next in line to the Volkov Empire, brother to the Vice President of The Kings of Retribution, owner of Kings Construction and the hottest most beautiful man to walk this earth is not in the same league as me. Heck, I'm still trying to figure out why he's insisting on helping me out and dragging me here to his house yesterday. At that thought, something ugly settles in my gut. Is he doing all this because he feels sorry for me? Is that why he asked me on a date last night? Suddenly, I start questioning his motives. I'm aware the people in my life, my friends, want to help and protect me, but most of the time, the way I'm treated makes me feel like a charity case like they see me as weak. I know that's not their intent. Mostly it's me conjuring negative thoughts up inside my head. It's not lost on me; I haven't gotten a handle on my insecurities. Not wanting to start my day off in a bad place, I file those thoughts away so I can stew on them later in the privacy of my own home. If I'm going to have a pity party, I'd rather it be a party of one.
Deciding it's time to get up, I climb out of bed but stop when something grabs my attention, and I catch the squeal that nearly escapes my mouth. That something is my reflection, directly above me, is a mirror. Holy crap!
As my mind starts drifting as to why Nikolai has a mirror strategically placed there, I toss the sheet back and jump out of bed. I don't want to think about the women he's brought home; the women he has shared his bed with and watched do things that someone like me can only dream about. I might be naïve in some ways, but I'm not so naïve. I don't know why he has that mirror.
Still, in yesterday's clothes, I pad over to the en-suite bathroom. Flicking the light on, I see a spare toothbrush sitting next to the sink. Once I finish taking care of business, washing my face, and brushing my teeth, I decide to go search for Nikolai before I head home. The first place I look is downstairs in the living room. When I don't see him there or the kitchen, I head to the gym. When I hear metal hitting metal, I know I have found him. Nikolai is lying with his back against the weight bench, his legs straddling each side as he presses the weights. I can't help taking in the way his shorts sit low on his hips and the way his muscles flex with each press. My eyes take the time to travel over his broad chest, glistening with sweat, then follow the path of the light dusting of chest hair leading down between his six-pack abs and disappearing into the waistband of his shorts. Even the grunt that comes from his mouth as he lifts the weights is sexy. Not wanting to bother him or get caught perving, I head back to the kitchen. Since Nikolai cooked for me last night, it's only right I make him a quick breakfast before I go. Plus, I need my morning caffeine fix.
Twenty minutes later, I've sucked back a cup of coffee and made Nikolai some cream cheese stuffed French toast with an omelet covered in onions, red peppers, and mushrooms. Nikolai's kitchen is a dream. I could spend hours here. It has a country cottage feel with a down to earth style, making the space homey, comfortable and inviting. The kitchen is painted in glazed cabinets, a farmhouse sink, and open shelving. It also has two gas stoves, two ovens, and two microwaves. Once I have finished admiring my dream kitchen, I get back to work on breakfast.
I've just wrapped the plate for Nikolai in foil and in the process of slinging my purse over my shoulder when Nikolai's deep, velvety voice rings out from behind me, making me jump. "Going somewhere?"
I push my glasses up my nose. "Uh… I'm going to head out. I made you breakfast. Just a little thank you for yesterday," I
stammer, sounding like an idiot as I try not to look at the beads of sweat dripping down his bare torso but fail. I also can't help taking in the colorful tattoos covering his chest and arms. Or the piercings he's sporting in both his nipples. Good lord!
When my gaze flicks back to Nikolai's face, his smirk is a good indication he caught me ogling. My face heats with embarrassment, and cast my eyes down to my feet and mumble. "I'll… I'll just get out of your hair."
As I shuffle past Nikolai, his hand clamps down on my elbow, halting my retreat. "Stay. Eat breakfast with me."
"I need to go. I only made enough for you," I'm quick to say, my flight mode kicking in. I'm desperate to scram before I embarrass myself further.
"I'm sure there is enough. We can share."
Not giving me a choice, Nikolai keeps his hold on my arm and walks me over to the kitchen island, pulls out a stool, takes my purse from me by sliding off my shoulder, setting it on the counter effectively puts me where he wants me. He then takes the seat next to me. He's so close. His scent assaults my senses. Who smells good even when they sweat?
No words are spoken. I watch as Nikolai vacates his stool, and rounds the island. Reaching above the counter, he pulls down two glasses, then retrieves the orange juice from the refrigerator, filling both. After he slides both glasses toward me, Nikolai grabs two forks from the drawer. Once he sits back down, he hands me a fork and removes the foil from the plate. "Eat, Malyshka."
There it is again—him calling me that name. Just the sound of his thick Russian accent makes my insides melt.
"This is fucking good. Where'd you learn to cook like this?" he asks around a mouth full of food.
"My neighbor, who lives across the street from my parents, Mrs. Mae, taught me."
"What about your mother? Didn't you cook with her growing up?"
I take a small bite of eggs and shrug. "Not really. My mom didn't have a lot of patience when it came to stuff like that. I didn't have many friends, so I spent all my free time with Mrs. Mae. She loved to cook and bake, and she loved teaching me."
"This woman, Mrs. Mae, means a lot to you?"
"Yes. I don't know what I would have done without her growing up. I know it sounds stupid that a sixty-seven-year-old woman was a little girl's best friend, but she was. She still is."
"That doesn't sound stupid at all, Leah," Nikolai says with sincerity, and I smile.
"Anyway, it turns out I have a knack for it. At first, it was small stuff like cookies. Soon, I was cooking all kinds of things. I make a mean Bolognese."
"Sounds good. You can make it for me tonight."
"What?" I nearly choke on the eggs in my mouth.
"I'm looking forward to it, Malyshka."
"I can't cook for you tonight, Nikolai."
"Sure, you can." He goes about eating as if he didn't just hear me.
"I… I have things to do today," I lie. "Maybe I can cook for you some other time."
Nikolai turns his head toward me. "What are your plans?"
Shit. Think, Leah. "Well, my car is due for an oil change, so I was going to take it to Jake. After that, I need to do my shopping for the week." That's another lie. My car is not due for an oil change for another month.
"No problem. I'll have Maxim take your car in, and I'll drive you to the store. We can pick up what you need to make dinner tonight."
"But… I."
"Finish eating, Leah, so that we can go."
I sit with my mouth hanging open while Nikolai goes back to eating. Several seconds pass with no other excuses coming to mind. Finally, I relent. It looks like I'm making Nikolai dinner tonight. I'll admit, the idea of spending another day with him has me giddy.
After we finish eating, Nikolai excuses himself to take a shower. Once he comes back downstairs, I follow him out through the side door in the kitchen, which leads to the garage. As soon as we step through, motion sensors activate, lighting the room. In the garage sits Nikolai's motorcycle, a black truck, a Mercedes, and a Jaguar. Nikolai leads me over to the Jag, where he hits the button on the key fob in his hand and opens the passenger door for me.
"Can we stop by my apartment so I can change into some fresh clothes?" I ask when Nikolai slides into the driver seat beside me a second later.
Nikolai hits a button on the visor, activating the garage door. "No problem."
As soon as we back out, Nikolai spots Maxim exiting the front door of the house. He stops, rolls the window down, and waits for Maxim to approach the car. He turns to me. "Give me the keys to your car."
Fishing the keys from my purse, I hand them over to Nikolai, who then hands them to Maxim. "Take Leah's car to get the oil changed and whatever else it might need."
Maxim jerks his chin. "Yes, sir."
On the ride to my place, I remain quiet. I think back to a moment ago when Nikolai ordered Maxim to handle my car. I think about his home, the garage full of luxury cars, and I think about my knowledge of the man sitting next to me. Though I have not come out and asked Alba or any of The Kings, it's no secret who the Volkov's are. Nikolai was rather forthcoming last night when I asked him if his family is mafia. And the more time I spend around him, the more questions I have. What is his role in the family? What kinds of businesses do they have? Why does he choose to stay primarily in Polson? Does he miss his home country? Will he ever go back?
"What are you thinking about so hard over there?" Nikolai asks, snapping me out of my wandering thoughts.
"Do you miss your home?"
Nikolai's eyes flick toward me then back to the road. "Russia?"
I nod. "Yeah. Do you miss it?"
"Not really, no. Polson is my home now. Everyone and everything I care about is here."
I watch as something flashes across Nikolai's face as he answers my question, and I decide not to pry any further on the topic of his home country. Instead, I stick to what makes him happy, his family.
"You have an amazing family. Logan and Bella are great. So are Bree and little Jake."
At the mention of his niece and nephew, Nikolai grins. "They are, aren't they? I'm truly fortunate to have found my brother and been able to watch him grow his family. Family is everything."
I give Nikolai a small smile. "Yeah. It's fortunate when you have a family as great as yours."
Nikolai doesn't say anything in response, but by the soft look he gives me, he knows my comment has deep meaning.
Thirty minutes later, Nikolai and I are scouring the produce section of the grocery store when an odd feeling creeps up my spine. A sense of awareness washes over me like I'm being watched. Only when I look over my shoulder, I don't see anyone except for the older couple standing next to the peaches. I try to shake the weird feeling away, but a hint of something continues to linger. Still feeling uneasy, I seek out Nikolai, who has made his way over to the deli about thirty feet away. He has his phone to his ear and is scanning the area like he's looking for someone. When his eyes lock on mine, he wastes no time eating up the distance between us. The moment he is at my side once again, my shoulders slump, and my body relaxes—something that doesn't go unnoticed by him as he places his palm on the small of my back. Maybe he senses that being around him puts me at ease.
"Get back to me," he barks into his phone before hanging up, his full attention now on me. "You good?"
"Yeah, I'm good. I only need a few more things then we can go."
Nikolai gives me a tight nod, and I wonder what has made his mood flip. Has he changed his mind about my cooking him dinner?
"Is everything alright? You can take me to my car, and I can come back and finish my shopping later."
Nikolai's face softens, and he winks. "Not a chance, Malyshka."
I smile. That's five times he's called me Malyshka which is the Russian word for baby. Everytime he says it, my knees go weak. And yes, I'm counting.
Just as Nikolai goes to speak again, he's interrupted by someone calling out my name. "Leah?"
Turning, I see Rhett, the guy who owns
the gym and teaches the self-defense classes I inquired about, striding toward me. He has a big smile on his face but loses it when his focus lands on the man beside me. Suddenly there is a shift in the air around us, and Nikolai stiffens. Rhett stops two feet in front of me.
"Hi Rhett," I give him a little wave.
"I thought that was you I saw from across the way. You haven't been back by the gym, and you never called. I wanted to see if you had given any more thought to the class or my offer?"
I go to answer Rhett only to have Nikolai jump in and answer for me. "Leah will not require your services," he clips, bringing his arm up from behind me and gently but firmly grips my neck. I shiver when his thumb strokes the spot behind my ear. The move doesn't go unnoticed by Rhett, whose eyes lock on Nikolai's hand.
"No disrespect, man, but I was talking to Leah. It's my understanding she had an incident that made her feel unsafe, so she came to my gym for help. I teach self-defense," Rhett informs Nikolai. And as soon as the words leave his mouth, the atmosphere in our little circle changes, and I swear Nikolai grows a foot taller. His entire demeanor morphs and his accent became more pronounced with his next statement.
"Well, now, you are speaking to me. I am informing you, Leah does not require your services, professional or personal. I will see to her safety and her needs."
"And who is it I'm speaking to?"
"Nikolai Volkov."
Recognition flashes across Rhett's face, and he doesn't do an excellent job at hiding his shock. My guess would be he has heard of the Volkov name. The Volkov's have made a name for themselves in Polson as much as The Kings. The two men engage in an intense stare off for several seconds. Along with the words that just came out of Nikolai's mouth, has me reeling.
Once Rhett tears his eyes away from Nikolai, he brings his attention back to me. He looks like he wants to say something but doesn't. When he regards Nikolai for the last time, he gives him a chin lift. "Understood."
Nikolai Page 9