Lion of Midnight (5 page)

Before long, he was striding across the smooth tile floor, his heavy boots surprisingly quiet given they were wet from the snow. He nodded greetings to the museum staff, but nothing was going to deter him from finding and speaking to his woman. His demeanor must have given off the vibe of “leave me alone” for no one attempted to stop him.

His confident stride faltered as his gaze landed upon her. She stood by herself, contemplating intently at the Russo-Japanese War exhibit. He remained behind her, opting to descry and take in the sight she presented. As it had in the bakery, his body responded almost violently to seeing her. His palms sweated, and his heart thundered, nearly painfully. His throat grew dry as he sought moisture. His muscles tensed, and the strain had him locking his legs.

Patience,
he told himself. The alpha being that had played a big part in him being the warrior he’d been roared in anger and frustration. It wasn’t used to being patient, more acclimated to taking what it wanted, when it wanted it.

She stood there, hands in the pockets of her black leather coat.
I need to get her a warmer coat or she’s going to get too cold.
Her thick black hair wasn’t stuffed under her jacket, and he could see it fell past her shoulder blades and shone with health. The way her jeans cupped her ass made him want to drop to his knees and thank the gods. He was glad he wore a pair of loose-fitting cargo pants, the way his cock was behaving.

He remained in place and kept his gaze upon her as she continued to take her time and absorb the information before her. The urge to grab her up into his arms wouldn’t stop nagging at him. Taking a deep breath, he licked his lips and began to walk toward her.

She was so in tune to the exhibit before her, she never turned from the images before her eyes. He halted behind her and inhaled deeply. Nik locked his knees as
the amazing aroma she wore flowed over him. He could identify a perfect blend of pear, cool mint, orange, Siberian fir, lavender, patchouli, cedar, and small hint of vanilla.
He wanted to lick her and see how she tasted. His body roared its approval, and he bit back a groan as he tamped his craving down.

Her head came to about his shoulder, and his mind flashed to them lying in bed together. They would fit just right with one another. He could see the glint of silver earrings through her hair.

“You are interested in the Russo-Japanese War?” he asked, mentally cursing himself for saying something so stupid.

“Everything about Russian history intrigues me,” she said in response without turning around. Her voice was husky and grabbed him, stroking him to a harder state.

Inside his pockets, his gloved hands clenched as he fought to remain in control. It was like all his training and restraint was merely holding on by a thread. A rapidly fraying one.

“What brings you to our fair city?” He truly was curious, for most people went to Moscow and Saint Petersburg, tending to overlook the rich history of Novgorod.

“I was on my way to Saint Petersburg, but got on the wrong bus. So, instead of being on the one that continued to Saint Petersburg, my ride ended here.”

Her chuckle shot up his temperature another few degrees. It skyrocketed when she finally looked away from a photograph of the war and faced him.

His mouth and throat grew dry as her eyes met his. They were rich brown, the color of the fertile, sweet-smelling soil that sustained life. He knew she hadn’t been expecting him to be behind her from the way they widened slightly before she took a step back. He allowed her the small retreat, knowing it wouldn’t last long.

Nikolas bit back his arrogant smirk as her gaze traveled up and down his body, filling with admiration. Patiently, he waited for her eyes to meet his, again. His fortitude wavered as he saw the tip of her tongue sneak out to wet her lips. For a moment, they regarded each other, taking stock of what each one saw. He waited for her to say something else.

Chapter Four

Cleo wanted to sink beneath the marbled tiles of the museum floor. It was none other than the gorgeous blond hunk from the bakery.
Jesus, he’s huge.
There wasn’t anything small on him, and she looked. Up and down. Even wearing the charcoal wool coat, she knew his bigness was all muscle, not fat. It was obvious he commanded respect wherever he went.

Imagine what his arms around you would feel like,
her mind taunted.

Biting back a groan, she moved back up to his eyes, which waited for her. She’d been right; they were a very dark brown. Not a tender, comforting brown, not really. They reminded her of the wild. Dangerous and almost wicked; like the rosettes on a jaguar’s coat that grabbed attention and yet, at the same time, kept the animal hidden from view until they wanted to be seen. His gaze dared her to jump in and allow him into her life.

Everything within her cried out to touch him, just to give up and see if the passion she believed she witnessed in the depths of his penetrating look was true. She could imagine Kenya rooting her on, telling her to go for it. Each inhalation Cleo took brought the alluring scent of virile male and the crisp, fresh outdoors. He brought to mind long nights in front of a roaring fire, doing things she’d only read about in books on rugs made of animal skin. With a big sigh, she shoved those thoughts to the back of her mind. Better to get away from tall, strong, and tempting before she listened to the devil inside her.

“Excuse me,” she managed to mutter. With another swallow, she began to inch past him.

“Wait,” he said, his voice deep and seductive.

Goose bumps popped up all over her body, and despite being inside a heated building, she shivered. “For?” she questioned.

Before he could answer, another voice broke in. “Excuse me, the museum is going to be closing in fifteen… Oh,
izvinitye,
Mr. Andreyevich. I didn’t know it was you, sir.”

Cleo watched as the short man practically drooled over her tall stranger.
Great, when’d I start thinkin’ of him as mine?
Who the hell are you, Mr. Andreyevich, and why do you get such treatment?
Her eyes drifted back to the aristocratic face as she waited for his response.

He flashed a grin at the man. A kind grin, not one that was condescending. “Don’t worry about it, Boris. We’ll lock up afterward. There are a few more exhibits we’d like to see.”

Boris flickered his gaze between them, and Cleo caught his slight smile. “Of course, sir. Have a lovely night.” He nodded at Cleo then walked away without saying another word, or looking back.

Okay, so he gets points for being smooth. Treats people nicely, and damn if staying after closing isn’t tempting. Although, pretty assuming of him.

“Would you care to join me for a tour?” he asked, his gaze dark as he stared down at her.

Cleo fought down another shudder as his intense look warmed her. Suddenly, the image of her and this man totally alone in this huge museum exploded before her. Her knees weakened, breasts tingled, skin prickled, and her breathing accelerated. A pool of moisture gathered between her thighs, and she wanted nothing more than to jump on this man and prove to herself that all the lies her ex had told her were just that. Lies.

“I don’t know you,” she said slowly.

“You will,” he said assuredly.

She arched a brow at his attitude. “Really? And, why do you think I would care to know you?” Arrogant men were nothing new to her, and for some reason, she didn’t want to give him the feeling he could sway her just because he was good looking.
Okay, damn good looking.

One shoulder lifted in an easy shrug. He leaned down until they were nose-to-nose. She couldn’t look away from the intensity in those eyes. He had seriously long and thick blond lashes.

“Because of the way you watched me in the bakery.” His voice dropped even lower and reminded her of black velvet being pulled over her skin. “I’ll be a gentleman,” he paused, “for as long as you’d like me to.”

She couldn’t help it. That made her smile. “Okay, Mr. Andreyevich, show me this museum.”

His head moved closer by her ear, and she would have sworn he sniffed her. “Although, I love how you say my last name, please call me Nikolas,” he rumbled into her ear. His deep voice like a big cat purring.

What would it be like to hear him speaking my name with that sexy voice?
Gulping, she tried to slow her heart rate. “Nikolas, it is.” She would have sworn he shuddered.

The way his name rolled off her tongue with its sweet southern drawl made each synapse in his body stand at attention. Grateful for the length of his wool pea coat, Nikolas fought the urge to adjust himself as his cock hardened.
Damn thing gets any harder, and I’ll be able to sword fight with it.
He’d been in a constant state of arousal since he’d first laid eyes on her. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t been around attractive women; he had, plenty. Nevertheless, none had affected him like this spitfire before him.

He knew she was attracted to him. She tried to hide it, but she couldn’t, not completely. Although, her determination to ignore her fascination was amusing. It was as if she didn’t realize there wasn’t a choice in the matter for her. She was not just an answer for his many, many years of an emotionless and lonely existence—she was
the
answer. Therefore, there was no way in hell he was going to let her go.

His mouth turned up at the corner before he asked, “And your name?”

She flashed him another smile, and his heart melted. He wanted to kiss her so badly. It was amazing how despite the century he was currently in, when faced with the woman he
knew
was his, he wanted to act like his brother, Marcus, had with Kit. Demanding. Taking what he wanted. And, at the time, he’d thought his brother crazy for letting Katrina to get under his skin as she had, but now…having met this enchanting vixen before him. Nik understood. One hundred percent.

“Cleopatra Laurens.” She held out her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Nikolas Andreyevich.”

He hesitated for a moment. Something foreign flickered in her eyes, and the serene expression slid from her face as she reacted by retracting her hand.

No!

Nikolas reached forward and grabbed the hand she had offered, grasping it with his larger one. Even with the gloves they both wore, he swore he could feel the heat from her touch, and it was unlike anything he’d experienced before. As if their touch ignited a heat from a universe of its own making.

“Yes, yes, it is,” he said sincerely.

He was reluctant to relinquish his hold on her. However, the second time she tugged on her hand, he did. Pulling his gaze up from her lips to her eyes, he was struck by the myriad of emotions in the dark depths—humor, sadness, amazement, and most definitely, passion.

“Thank you,” she said lightly. “Hard for me to walk when you’re holding my hand.” Her gaze dropped to the floor as she realized what she’d insinuated.

“Guess we’ll have to work on it, then, so it becomes more natural,” he responded lightly, keeping his eyes on her face. It didn’t take long before he was once again looking into her rich gaze.

One eyebrow quirked as she smiled, displaying a cute dimple in her left cheek. “That’s one way to interpret that.” She glanced around the now empty museum. “Thought I was getting a
private
tour of this place.”

Nik nodded. “Wherever you want to go. If there is a preference, please let me know, and we can start there. But, first, can I take your coat?” he questioned as innocently as he could manage. He was determined to be able to enjoy perusing her body without the hindrance of trying to see through the leather coat.

She scrutinized him for a few seconds, and he was pleased to see the assessing look in her eyes. However, he didn’t want her to hesitate to trust him. He held her gaze and waited for her to make up her mind. Inside, he crowed with victory when her hands went to the first of three buttons on her coat.

He watched intently as she exposed her top to him. She wore a V-neck sweater in a gorgeous shade of arctic blue. Breaking eye contact, she removed her gloves and put them in her pockets. Nikolas was there to help her out of the coat. As his hands settled upon her shoulders, he had to clench his jaw to keep from behaving as he longed to do so.
Remain a gentleman
was fast becoming his mantra. And, from the way this woman filled out a pair of jeans and the sweater she wore…he was going to be taking a lot of cold showers.

“Thank you,” she said in a voice that was like a gentle rain.

Shoving back his lust, Nikolas stepped back, allowing her some space. Draping her coat over his arm, he nodded toward a door across the main part of the museum, which led to the room he used when he was here. “I’ll go set it in the office, and we’ll get to the tour.”

“I’ll be waiting,” she returned.

As I have been for you.
Nikolas turned on his heel and walked away, resisting the urge to look back over his shoulder and ensure she was still waiting. It didn’t take him long to remove his coat, as well, and hang it over his chair. Walking from the room, he paused in the doorway. There she was. Looking at a statue, hands shoved in the back pockets of her jeans, lower lip caught in her teeth and oh so adorable.

His cock throbbed and reminded him it had been a while. He grinned.
It could have been yesterday, and it wouldn’t matter. That beauty over there is my woman.
Nikolas knew no other woman would ever get a reaction like this from him, again.

Tugging on the bottom of his shirt, Nikolas moved across the floor toward her. As he approached, she turned her head from the statue of Tsar Alexander the Third and looked at him. He watched her eyes rove up and down his form before filling with appreciation, an act that had him fighting down an arrogant grin.

“So?” he asked. “Figure out where you’d like to start?”

That plump lower lip of hers popped out from between her teeth as she walked toward him. He took in the way she moved, athletic and yet seductive. She cocked her head to the side and said, “Actually, yes.” Then, she shrugged. “Well…okay, here’s the thing.” When they stood toe to toe, she stopped.

Nikolas wanted nothing more than to tuck the strands of wayward hair behind her ear. “Ask your question, Cleopatra.”

Pulling a hand from her pocket, she waved it. “Cleo, please. I’m rarely called by my full name.” He nodded his acquiescence and watched her chew on the inside of her cheek. “I’m kind of looking for some information on someone. I don’t have much, and the only lead I have for anything further is here in Novgorod.”

He arched a brow, totally intrigued. “Well, this is one of the best museums for our history. So, I’d bet you could find your answers here or, if not, be sent in the right direction.” Nikolas flashed a smile. “But I think this place is full of information.”

“This isn’t your museum, is it?” she asked.

“No. Although, my family has made large contributions to it.” The familiar lie slid from his lips.

“That explains why you’re allowed here after closing.”

He winked. “Perks.”

“You’re a smooth one, Nikolas.”

“I’m many things, Cleo.”
The most important being yours.
“So,” he said, “who are you trying to find out more about?” His gaze drifted to where the snowflake pendant hovered just above the valley between her full breasts.

Cleo could feel the heat of his gaze burning her skin. Almost as if he held a brand to her, leaving his own personal mark. Tamping down the urge to squirm under his bold gaze, she focused on his question. As much as she wanted to ask him about this mysterious
Lion of Midnight,
in some perverse way, she didn’t want to share him.

“I think I’d like to start around Kievan Rus’ if that’s okay.”

His eyes jumped up to her face, and she witnessed surprise and admiration in his gaze. “Most definitely.” He offered his arm, and she took it.

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him as they headed toward the big staircase. He looked even better than he had at the bakery if that were possible. The man was just flipping massive. And, the way his clothing hugged his body made her want nothing more than to strip them off of him and see if he looked as good without them, or better.

Her pussy pulsed, reminding her that it’d been a lengthy time since a man had paid it any attention. She and her ex hadn’t been intimate long before they got divorced.
But, hell, he was getting it on the side.
Cleo tensed at the reminder of that day her world had changed.

“Something wrong?” A sexy voice snapped her out of the bad memory she was becoming entrenched in.

Forcing back the depressing thoughts, she smiled at the handsome man staring down at her. “No, just got lost in the past.”

He moved his large body closer to hers, blocking her against the railing of the stairs they ascended. A whimper of desire attempted to slip past her lips, but she swallowed it back and, in doing so, brought the delicious scent that surrounded him into her nose and embedding it into her skin.