Her Russian Brute: 50 Loving States, Idaho (16 page)

T
o Ivan
, the look on Sola’s face was worth it. The painful series of final surgeries. The torturous months of recovery. Every agonizing second he’d gone through was more than worth it just to see her like this.

“
Da
, Sola, it’s me,” he said, clasping her around the shoulders. “I wondered if you would still recognize me. The doctors had to alter my face somewhat in order to fix it.”

“I can’t believe it…!” she said, her voice filled with the same shock and wonder clearly etched across her face. “I just can’t believe it!”

“Neither can I,” Ivan answered her truthfully. “But the doctors Alexei found for me are very skilled.”

“Obviously.” She reached up and tentatively, oh so softly, touched the previously scarred side of his face. “Is this real?”

“Da
.
It’s a combination of my own skin grafted with artificial skin created by a 3-D printer. It’s completely safe for you touch with whatever amount of pressure you wish.”

“Are you sure?” Sola asked, her tone both scared and doubtful.

“I promise you, Sola, I am completely healed.”

“Oh, good! Then I can do this…”

With only that small warning, his little Sola hauled back and slapped him hard across his brand new face.

Ivan’s head flinched to the side, more out of surprise than anything else, but then he looked back at her, enjoying the glint in Sola’s fierce brown eyes. Oh, how he’d missed that righteous indignation of hers during the past several months. “You still have the ability to surprise me, Sola.”

As glad as he was to see her, she looked nothing but furious to see him. Even though he was now one hundred times easier to look at.

“What kind of man—no…what kind of
jackhole,
just ups and vanishes like that? You made me love you, and then you just took off!”

“You love me?” he repeated, his heart filling with wonder despite her other much angrier words.

“You basically made every dream I’ve ever had come true. Even the ones I didn’t know I should have. Yes, of course I love you! But then you just…disappeared.”

He tried to answer, but his beautiful Sola raged on before he could.

“And you didn’t even have the balls to tell me you were leaving the country! Instead you had your cousin do your ‘Dear John’ dirty work! And then six months go by without a word. How could you do that? To me? To us?!?!”

“I am sorry, Sola,” he said, cupping her shoulders. “But I knew I wasn’t the man you deserved. Not with the face I had before...”

She shook her head, eyes blazing, “I told you…”

“I know what you told me, Sola, and I believe you. But
I
cared. That face belonged to the man I used to be. The killer who only lived for revenge. I wanted—I needed to be better than a man who hides himself away from the world for you. More than the Russkie monster too scared to come out of the manor and live in the light with you. That’s why I left. But now I have this new face, and I used the time in recovery to set up that program for promising opera fellows from around the world at the St. Petersburg Opera.”

Her eyes widened behind her glasses. Black now, with colorful flower details painted across the top and edges. They were unreasonably adorable—just like her. And he found himself missing her that much more, even though he was finally standing right in front of her.

“That was you? But it’s named after your cousin, Alexei…”

“Actually, the fellowship is named after my father. He and Alexei shared the same name after a Rustanov ancestor, and I wanted…” He looked away from her for a moment, struggling to come up with the right words. “…I wanted to do something good in my father’s name. Finally.”

He squeezed her shoulders and continued, “I’ve also been talking to my cousins. They’ve helped me through a lot these last few months, and though I used to think I wanted nothing to do with the family business, I have changed my mind. Like you, Alexei and Boris have shown me more kindness than I deserve and now I wish to pay them back with my service. But that means I must finish my university studies…in St. Petersburg.”

He moved his hands down her arms to take her hands in his. “So you see, Sola, I’ve spent these last months setting up a life for us in Russia. One we could both enjoy together. And now that I’ve fixed myself, I am presenting myself to you. A better man, the kind of man you deserve.”

He had never felt or said anything more sincere in his life, but she looked away from him like his words cut her to the bone.

“The man I deserve….” she repeated with a bitter shake of her head.

And her voice sounded pained when she said, “But you planned all of this without me! You talked to your cousins, arranged for that fellowship—without saying a word to me about
any
of it. Not a call…not an email…not even a text...”

“Sola…” he pleaded. “It was something I had to do on my own. Please understand.”

“Meanwhile, I’m out here in California, barely able to keep it together enough to make it through the school year because you just took off after killing my ex-boyfriend!” Sola continued on like he hadn’t said anything.

Ivan shifted uncomfortably. “Sola, I missed you every single moment I was away—”

“Yeah, well...” Sola yanked her hands back from him. “Now you’re really going to miss me!”

Then she surprised him yet again by shoving past him and walking out of his life mere minutes after he’d walked back into hers.

S
ola could only
imagine how Ivan felt as he watched her walk away. The complete opposite of whatever he’d been hoping for when he showed up at Alexei’s gala with his movie star makeover.

All those surgeries he’d endured, and all the things he’d done to make sure she ended up in St. Petersburg with him. He probably thought she’d just fall into his arms like the last six months had never happened.

But not Sola. Instead, she’d slapped him and stormed off, giving Sirena Rustanov—the best and only opera diva she knew—a run for her dramatic money.

Stormed off so well, Ivan could only watch her leave in stunned silence, as his months of effort and planning turned to ashes.

Stormed off so well, she knew he was completely surprised when he returned to his limo shortly after her dramatic exit to find her leaning up against the car door, with her arms crossed over the plunging neckline of her little black dress.

“Sola?” he said, big head crooking to the side as if he weren’t sure she was real, or just a figment of his imagination.

“That back there,” she said, jabbing her finger toward the steps where Ivan had made his huge announcement, “is
not
how you do a dramatic reveal.”

Then she turned her hand, palm up, and circled it slowly just in front of her face. “
This
is how you do a dramatic reveal.”

Ivan stared at her, the very picture of incredulity, for moments on end. But then his lips spread into wide smile.

“Sola,” he said, his tone now indulgent. “You never cease to surprise me.”

It was finally her turn to grin, to let Ivan off the hook for making her suffer without his big, stupid, best-she-ever-had self.

“Good, now you get it,” she told him softly, stringing her arms around his thick neck. “Don’t
ever
try to out-surprise an opera nerd. You, sir, need to stay in your lane.”

“Hmmm. If I were you, I would not claim victory just yet,” Ivan answered.

Then seemingly out of nowhere, an octagon-shaped leather box appeared in the space between them.

Sola’s eyes widened when he flipped it open with one large thumb to reveal a dazzling diamond ring. “Surprise, Sola, I love you, too.”

Sola could only cover her mouth with both hands. “Oh, Ivan…” she whispered, her brown eyes filling with happy tears.

“We have ‘just this one life to live,’” he reminded her, quoting Sola’s own words back at her. “And I want to live the rest of mine with you.”

Less than five minutes later, and one word uttered by Ivan—a word Sola could only assume meant “scram” in Russian—they were once again in the back of a limo.

But unlike the last time, their passion was dialed up several notches, thanks to the ring now gracing Sola’s left hand. And the promises they’d made to be together forever.

It was their first time seeing each other in six months and neither was interested in playing it cool. Sola immediately swung a leg over his big body, climbing on top of him with a desperation she couldn’t disguise. Ivan had his pants unzipped and his hands beneath the narrow skirt of Sola’s black cocktail dress, by the time she got into position on top of him.

They both groaned when he pushed her panties aside, and sank her down onto his naked cock. Both his large hands fisted in her hair, and he pulled her to him for a long, hungry kiss. For minutes on end, all either of them knew was the feel of each other. Lips crashing, bodies rolling together as the smell of their combined sex filled up the limo’s back seat.

“Don’t stop!” Sola cried, even though he had no intention of doing so.

“I won’t,” he promised, voice little more than a guttural whisper. “You saved me from myself. You loved me at my ugliest. I will never stop. Not until we are both dead.”

That was it. Sola came undone, the orgasm cresting over her in the aftermath of his promise. And he came soon after, still crooning in her ear about what their future would look like together. How it would be for them as husband and wife. How he’d spend the rest of his life proving to her that he’d finally become the man she deserved.

L
ife was totally fair
. In fact, as far as Sola was concerned, the scales were now over tipped in her favor. She had a wonderful husband who would soon be taking over as president of the Rustanov’s Moscow headquarters. And at the very young age of twenty-six, she was set to direct her first opera at the Moscow National Opera. It was a production of one of her favorite new works,
Chrysanthemum,
financed by Alexei and starring her hugely talented in-law, Sirena Rustanov, reprising the titular lead role she’d first debuted in New Mexico.

No, there was no doubt about it. Sola was blessed. Just unbelievably blessed and—

“Give me that note again!” Sirena called up to her from the stage, her down-home Virginia accent ringing out angry and clear across the theater space. “See what happens!”

Behind her, the stage techs and actors were scrambling to get the props, scenery, and people in place for another run through of the opera’s final scene. But while they were rushing to do Sola’s bidding, Sirena was downstage rolling her neck at her young director.

“See what happens if you give me that note again! See. What. Happens. Cuz I don’t know if you remember this, since you were only, what…like,
three
back then? But I
originated
this role, little girl. You do
not
get to tell me how to sing this character!”

“I truly do not know why she keeps giving Sirena this note,” Boris stage-whispered in English to his brother Alexei so Sola couldn’t help but hear. The two men were seated just behind her. “Could you talk to her,
Lyosha
?”

Funny how Boris, the man who’d taught her husband to kill, the man who stood north of six-foot-seven and didn’t look like anyone’s little anything, became a total younger brother with his big brother, the opera financer, whenever the subject involved his opera diva wife. Emphasis on
diva
.

“I have talked to her,” Alexei answered in English in the same loud stage-whisper. “She tells me ‘I am director and you are not.’ She makes Ivan happy, but not so much me.”

“Or me,” Boris agreed, in his darkest tone.

“I love my in-laws,”
Sola chanted to herself over and over again:
“I love my in-laws! Love. Them...”

After all, she reminded herself, they were the ones helping to make her long held dreams come true. Why, in less than a week, Brian—who’d somehow managed not to relapse into alcoholism after Eddie’s sad but inevitable death just over a year ago—would be sitting here in this very seat. She was
blessed
and life was
fair
. So fair.
So, so
fair…

“You look like you’re reminding yourself how fair your life is again” Ivan whispered, dropping down in the seat next to hers. As per usual, he was dressed in a suit. Today’s selection was light blue, which went perfectly with his blond hair and brought out his eyes. It was all too easy to see how he’d recently made it onto a popular American women’s magazine’s list of the world’s 50 sexiest businessmen, even though he’d only technically been a C-level at Rustanov Moscow for two months.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m doing…” she groaned, leaning over to kiss him.

“What now?”

“I’ve only got two more days of dress rehearsal, and Sirena’s refusing to take my advice about not holding the last note of the last aria so long. Meanwhile, your cousins are behind me throwing shade like this is
The Muppet Show
.

Ivan’s eyes narrowed. “I know shade, but not
The Muppet Show
.”

“Remember the green frog and his pig girlfriend? Oh never mind, I’ll show you some YouTube clips tonight. Anyway, there are these two old men puppets who sit in a theater and criticize everything and everyone in the show. And they’re
almost
annoying as your two cousins.”

Ivan glanced over his shoulder at the two older men, who in the way of shit-starters the world over, waved back at him like everything was fine.

I still owe my cousins a lot for the putting up with me in spite of the terrible things I said and did before you made me want to be a better man.” He shifted in his seat to level with her, voice low and confidential: “But for you, I will go back to old ways. For you, I can make sure they never bother you again.”

“Aw…” She smiled at him, patting his cheek with affection. “Thank you for offering to take out your cousins for me, babe. That’s very Rustanov of you. But it’s okay, I’ve got this…”

She stood suddenly and yelled out, “Sirena, either break the note off before the one minute mark, or be okay with the curtain closing on you if you don’t.”

Then before the diva could respond, she announced, “And if
anyone
other than me wants to keep talking during
my
rehearsal, let me know so I can call security to escort you out.”

She could feel Alexei and Boris’s petulant glares burning into her back, but she didn’t hear another word from them after she sat back down.

“This is why I love you, Sola,” Ivan said, grinning at her when she was back in her seat. “You are so little, but so fierce. And you are still the most surprising.”

“I love you, too,” she said, grinning back at him. “But speaking of surprises, why are you here?”

Ivan sobered then, and a shadow crossed his face. “The woman who served as maid of honor at our wedding…the one you flew back to see when she graduated from medical school—Anitra, yes? Anitra Dunhill?”

“Dr. Anitra Dunhill,” Sola corrected, knowing just how hard her best friend had worked to earn that title.

Ivan only frowned. “I was afraid of that.”

He took out his phone and showed her a post with a screaming headline.

Sola’s eyes widened. “No, that’s impossible! She would not have gotten married. Not without telling me. And definitely not to someone like him!”

But before Ivan, who didn’t know Anitra nearly as well as Sola did, could answer, she was grabbing her own phone and placing an international call to her best friend’s West Virginia number. Only to curse when it went straight to voicemail.

“Is this article I’m reading true?” Sola demanded as soon as her friend’s easygoing voice promised to get back to her. “And if so, what the hell, Anitra! Why would you marry—actually
marry
—somebody like that?!?! Call me back as soon as you get this!”