“Of course.”
Of course.
I held in my laughter.
“I’m glad you chose Paris.” He rounded one corner. “Valentina always talks about how romantic it is. I’ve been here many times and never agreed, but now...”
“Now?”
“I’m feeling pretty romantic.” He winked. “I want to show you everything.”
“How long will we be here?”
“As long as necessary.”
I eyed him. “What are you doing?”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m getting a sneaky vibe from you.”
“You New Yorkers are always suspicious.”
“Hmmm.” I spotted a tall structure and pointed. “Is that the Eiffel Tower?”
“Yes. That’s the Iron Lady.”
“I’ve never heard that nickname.”
“The French are odd, but that’s what they call her. To me, it looks like a big metal penis.”
I giggled. “It does not look like a penis.”
He shrugged and sped through traffic. For a few seconds, I worried the cops would stop us, then hoped they wouldn’t for their sake.
“Where do you want to go tomorrow?” he asked.
“Wow. I hadn’t even thought about it.”
“This city is full of monuments—Notre Dame Cathedral. The Sacré-Coeur Basilica. Paris National Opera.” He slowed as we hit a stop light. “But I have somewhere that may intrigue you.”
“And where’s that?”
“It’s a surprise.”
I raised my eyebrows.
“I’ll take you there tomorrow.”
What are you up to, Kaz?
Twenty minutes later, we drove up to a large building in the center of bustling Paris.
“La Cuisine Perdue is at the top of Paris’ Centre Pompidou. You’ll love it.”
“I already do.”
“We’ll stay here for a while.”
“What’s a while?”
He ignored that question. “You’ll get to see the French capital and the Louvre.”
Those words were a perfect distraction from my wonderings. Excitement drummed through me.
I grinned. “We can go to the Louvre?”
“Yes.” Kazimir stopped the car right in front of valet. “Maybe we can spend some time in France for a while, see some art, buy a little, waste a few weeks, and then go back and start your lessons.”
“A few weeks?”
“Whatever’s necessary.”
“Hmmm.”
You’ve been wanting me to get away from Russia and rest for a while. Probably didn’t want me sleuthing around the Bratva for monkey head guy. And now we happen to be in France. Well-played, Kazimir. Well-played.
“Thoughts, mysh?”
“We could stay a little.”
“I brought Xavier’s ashes with me just in case you wanted to drop by the French Rivera.”
Skepticism must’ve covered my face. “You just happened to bring his ashes?”
“I did.”
Sneaky lion.
“Thank you.” I glanced out the window. “But I don’t want to dump Xavier’s ashes yet.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Plus, I want to wait to take Maxwell with us when I do the ashes. I just wanted to talk to you both about that plan first.”
“Whatever you want, I will do.” He left the car and handed the key over to the valet attendant. “There’s plenty of other things to do here.”
He wants me to take a break. Maybe he even needs a break too.
I sighed. “Okay. Let’s do Paris for a few days, a week at the most. I don’t want my crew to feel lost or anything.”
“Oh no, we don’t want that.”
“I hear the sarcasm.”
“From me? Of course not.”
Of course.
With a wicked smile, Kazimir ushered us into the steel and glass edifice. It was a quick ride up the elevator, and then we entered an extravagant spread with a gorgeous view of the city.
We traveled through a mahogany doorway where yummy aromas danced in the air.
I entered the main dining area. The whole place was empty. Instead of walls, there were large glass windows. A coffered ceiling dangled huge crystal chandeliers. Green leather chairs surrounded shiny black tables.
Five men stood at the back, staring in front of them and showing no emotion, all professional and dressed in white uniforms. They must’ve been in their fifties.
A chubby man hurried from the back wearing a black suit and gray tie. “Kazimir! They said you were coming. It’s been too long.”
They hugged and then spoke in French.
After a few seconds, Kazimir gestured to me.
The chef pulled out his glasses from his pocket and placed it on his face. “Your mouse?”
Really, Kaz? You could tell people that my name is Emily.
“My name is Pierre. I’m the chef of this meager little place.”
Kazimir huffed. “Meager?”
I extended my hand and shook his. “Nice to meet you. My name is Emily.”
“Aww. Emily is so much better than mouse.” The chef took my hand and kissed it. “Your experience will be magnifique.”
“No kissing.” Kazimir shook his head, although a smile remained on his face. “I know how you French are. Don’t get any ideas.”
“We can’t help ourselves.” The chef spread out his hands and gestured to the restaurant. “So...you’ve closed down the entire place. You’ve demanded the best of everything. What will we have first?”
“Give me one minute, Emily.” Kazimir walked off with the chef. All powerful frame and sinewy grace, he was such a wonderful man I still couldn’t believe we’d come together. Addicted and obsessed, I could only wait until he returned.
The chef and Kazimir whispered.
A brown haired man walked over to me. “I’ll take you to your table.”
“Thank you.” I followed. The entire time, my gaze remained locked to the glittering world beyond glass.
I’m in Paris. I’m actually...here...right now.
This was what wealth could buy. A view, but not just any view. A view free of claustrophobic folks and noise. Nothing but the night sky over one of the most romantic cities in the world.
I moved past the cavernous space. I was careful not to touch the glass as I slowly walked along one end of the wall to the other. The city lay before me, sparkling like a jewel and full of promise.
“Here we go.” The host led me onto a private balcony. The wide space was easily twice the size of my old apartment in Harlem with bright carpet on mahogany wood and dark furniture swathed in white. Crimson pillows were scattered on vanilla love seats with candlelight along a rooftop fountain. Firefly strings of light crisscrossed above.
Drawn to the railing, I walked to it and stared off at the city. I couldn’t help but lift my face to the wind, close my eyes, and savor the moment.
“Are you relaxing?” Kazimir whispered from behind.
“Yes.”
He pulled me into him.
I leaned my head back and smiled.
He kissed me, and the sweet pressure of his soft lips made my heart skip a beat. “I didn’t hear you coming.”
“You never will.” He breathed me in. “Do you like the view?”
“God yes.”
“The chef is ready to serve, and I know you’re starving.” Kazimir took my hand, slowly turned me around, and led me back inside.
We walked through the luxurious space, hand-in-hand, and no longer did I think about all the worries I’d had on the plane. If he’d wanted me to forget it all, he’d succeeded.
Well-played, Kaz. Well-played.
The chef beamed with pleasure. “I hope you came hungry.”
“We did.” Kazimir linked his arm with mine.
We sat down.
I whispered to him, “You’re smart.”
“Am I?” He eyed me with amused suspicio
n. “Have you figured out what I’ve been doing?”
“Yes. You’re distracting me.”
“From what?”
“From getting in trouble with your brothers.”
“I am, but this is more than that.” He took a sip of his wine. “What else is it?”
I scanned the space, taking in not only his gorgeous face, but the soft romantic atmosphere. Candlelight flickered over roses.
“The other lesson is...” I looked around. “I don’t know.”
“My cock is as big as my wallet. That’s the lesson.”
I laughed. “No, that’s not a lesson. I already knew that.”
“Well, it’s worth noting again.” His words made me giddy with pleasure.
I couldn’t stop the corners of my mouth from pulling into a smile. “Your second lesson is that I need to take a break. Slow down.”
“Yes, mysh.” Kazimir brought my hands up to his mouth and kissed them.
“You’re the one who wanted me to play games with presidents.”
“That’s just going to be a lesson. Something I can control. Anything you do on your own is something I won’t anticipate.” He took another sip from his glass. “Plus, fucking with Smirnov is fun.”
“Would you ever overthrow him?”
He nodded as if I’d asked him if he’d taken out the garbage yesterday. “I’ve considered it. There’s another player in the game. Gukovo. He’s younger, late thirties. Lives off a modest state pension. Charismatic and fiercely patriotic.”
“You’ve been watching him?”
“I have, but I haven’t contacted him yet. I’ve allowed Misha to be the middleman. Maybe after our lessons, we’ll meet him.”
“And then what?”
“Things may get interesting in Moscow. There’s a plague of greed that has come to Russia, and the citizens are at a breaking point. With Gukovo’s and my help, we could install a new government in a peaceful way.”
O-kay. We’ll just install a new government sometime next week. Cool.
I cleared my throat. “I’m out of my league.”
“You’ll learn.”
“You said wealth is like a new jacket. What about power?”
“I cannot help you with how to deal with power, mysh. Even I don’t have full control of myself when I’m on it. Power is not a jacket. It’s cocaine. Heroine. Pussy. All mixed in one. It’s love and an orgasm. It’s money. It’s fame. It’s every fucking thing you can imagine, and then absolutely nothing at all.”
“That’s why you want me to take my time?”
“Yes. You already have had power.”
“Not really. Not on your level, Kazimir.”
“You will. You have my attention, and that is worth a lot. You’ll understand.” He frowned. “People will approach you. They’ll find a way. They’ll try to get you to bend my ear on things. You’ll be the target for things you have nothing to do with you.”
I exhaled slowly. “I’ll always stay loyal.”
“I know you will. I’m more concerned about my reaction when others bother you.”
“I doubt anyone will bother me. I’m with the lion after all.”
“Some will think that you’ve tamed me.”
I snorted. “Not happening.”
“Hmmm.”
“So, are you going to teach me how to be a lion tamer too?”
“Do you think you can tame?”
“No.”
He smiled. “Yet, you’ve tamed me.”
“Have I?”
He leaned my way and sucked in my bottom lip. The conversation ended with that. There was no reason to think of anything else.
Seconds later, plates clinked. Our servers must’ve been placing our food on the table. Kazimir and I were so bad with our public displays of affection. I always felt horrible for our cooking staff, constantly finding us humping against the dinner table and tonguing each other down between courses.
I pulled away and he groaned.
“Come back, mysh.”
“Really, Kazimir?”
“What?”
“Your sexual appetite is insane. I love it, but—”
“I can’t help it.”
I shook my head. “Oh, really?”
“There isn’t a mating season for lions, but when there’s plenty of food and the lion’s power has been solidified among the pride, the mating is more likely to occur.”
“Oh okay.” I grinned. “That explains everything. Anything else I should know about lions?”
He nodded as the server laid a huge dish topped with roasted meats and a heavy sauce dripping over it on the table. “When the female is ready, she’ll mate with the male more than twenty times per day. They may not even eat.”
“This is why we’ve missed so many meals?”
“Exactly. But we should eat now for strength. More mating will come.”
Mating.
I wasn’t sure if this was what people talked about in the first few months of their relationship. We’d just truly begun defining ourselves, but Kazimir would give our relationship more meaning.
“And you think it’s safe now...to mate?” I asked.
“Safe enough to move forward with us. Safe enough to consider the fact that you may be pregnant and we should discuss it.”
Dear God. I don’t want to deal with that again.
He’d been tossing out the pregnancy word like it wasn’t a big topic. For me, it was something I’d never considered.
I turned my attention to my plate. “I just need time before talking about...mating.”
“And if you’re pregnant now?”
“We haven’t been using condoms. Perhaps, we can just...use condoms from now on.”
He tenderly grabbed my arm and leaned closer to me. “What’s the timeframe on these condoms? I like fucking you raw. Nothing compares to it.”
“Maybe if you stopped coming inside me—”
“It’s hard to pull out with you.”
And then, in the end, I never wanted him to pull out. I bit my lip as he continued. “I also rather like filling you with cum. It’s become my new pastime hobby. I like to watch it spill out of your pussy right after I pull out.”
My nipples hardened.
He rested his hand on mine and studied me. “However...”
Neither of us had touched the food on our plates. My heart beat faster. I wasn’t sure I could handle any more of what Kazimir had to discuss. Everything moved so fast. Months ago, I didn’t even know his name. Now I sat in yet another country with him, my third country in a few weeks, and he’d taken over every part of my life.
He squeezed my hand and had the nerve to give me an innocent look. “Am I moving too fast?”
I had several sarcastic things to say, but now wasn’t the time for that. There was one thing I had to be truthful about and admit. “Kazimir, I think I would be nervous at any pace.”
“Then, let me guide us through it.”
I squeezed his hand. “I don’t want to make any mistakes.”
“The best part of life is the mistakes.”
I would be a shitty mother. What if I black out and kill him or her? What if I harm them in some other way?
Instead, I whispered, “Still...”
“We have control. Our lives are in our hands. This world is resting in our fingers. There is nothing we can’t do.”
I moved my hand away. “But do you want to rule the world, or do you want to have...a family?”
“I want both.” He grabbed my hand again and slipped his finger along my thumb. “And I want both with you.”
“That’s the lesson too?”
“It is.”
“Can we have both?” I asked.
“I don’t know. This will also be a lesson for me.”
I sighed. “I trust you.”
“Then, let’s eat.” He squeezed my hand again and released it.
Our conversations lingered on learning about each other.
We needed the
se moments together, far away from Russia and everyone else.
Kazimir was right. We’d already dedicated our lives together. We’d killed and plotted together. But never had we gone out and sat down on a date together.
We slipped into a smooth conversation, learning more about our lives. He told me about his times as a kid, running the streets like a hooligan with Pavel, Zahkar, and Abraham. He even talked about his childhood memories of Misha and Valentina arguing daily when they all lived together temporarily.
When he brought up Sasha, a question popped in my head. “When was the first time you learned that Sasha was gay? Did he come to tell you?”
“No. Misha told me.”
“How did Misha know?”
“I didn’t ask.” Kazimir shook his head and wiped his mouth with a cloth napkin. “It was too uncomfortable the way Misha told me. It was like he had something to confess also.”
For some reason, I had to ask. “Do you think Misha is gay?”
“I’ve never seen him with a man, but there’s been pondering...mainly from Valentina, which is at the core of why they don’t get along. She’s picked at him about it. Who knows? They love to annoy each other, but I know there’s something more to their arguing.”
“Love?”
“Perhaps. They love each other, but not in a romantic way. No one could ever hurt Valentina without Misha getting in the middle of it. That is the same with Valentina. She would kill for him. But there’s also a hate between them.”
“And you don’t know why?”
“Never have figured it out.”
Minutes passed. Our plates emptied. Since we owned the restaurant for the evening, Kaz took me out on the balcony to have dessert. Out there, the sky had grown darker. The temperature had lowered. I shivered but focused instead on the few stars shining high above.
“You’re cold. We should move back inside.”
“I’m fine.” I fixed my stare on a flashing light somewhere far across the Parisian horizon. “This city is so beautiful.”
“Prettier than Moscow?”
“No, but gorgeous in different ways. Moscow reminds me of magic with those brightly colored roofs shaped like flames. Paris reminds me of art and elegance.”
“But, you’re still cold.” Kazimir held my hands. The heat from his large ones began to warm mine. “Let’s go. I want to take you to my place. I have a small suite here I enjoy visiting.”
Dirty Hearts: The Lion and The Mouse (Book Three) Page 12