NIKOLAI (Her Russian Protector #4) (4 page)

"Do you need any help?"

Guilt seized him. He had no business
fantasizing about her, not now when her whole damn world seemed to
be crashing in on her. Right now she was vulnerable and needed to
be protected—not seduced or corrupted.

He glanced at her, taking in the sight of her
damp hair and low slung jeans. The tiny peek of skin between her
cotton tee and the top of her jeans did little to cool his raging
lust. "No. Your tea is ready."

She slid next to him and picked up the two
mugs. After placing them on the table, she grabbed milk from the
refrigerator. She'd served his tea enough times at the restaurant
to know exactly how he liked it. By the time he'd plated the eggs,
she'd already grabbed silverware and the pastries.

When they took their seats, he waited patiently
while she said her quick, silent prayer of thanks. Though she'd
only been introduced to her Russian Orthodox faith when she moved
into her grandparents' home, Vivian took her beliefs very seriously
and seemed intent upon living her life accordingly. Unlike some
hardcore believers, Vivian never pushed him on the subject. For
that he was eternally grateful.

Finished with her prayer, she smiled at him.
"Thank you for breakfast."

"It's only eggs."

She shrugged and picked up her fork. "It's nice
to share a meal with someone again. I'd gotten so used to having
Lena here every morning. It's still very strange to eat without the
news blaring in the background or her cell phone ringing off the
hook."

He eyed the box on the other end of the table.
She'd labeled it with Lena's name. "Have you spoken to her since
she and Yuri jetted off to Moscow after Dimitri's
wedding?"

"Last night," Vivian said. "Apparently Yuri
went totally overboard with Christmas gifts. She still hadn't
opened all the boxes when we'd talked."

"I'm not surprised. He's absolutely infatuated
with her."

"And that's a bad thing?" Confusion colored her
voice.

"It's a weakness."

She sat back and stared at him. "How can you
say something like that, Kolya?"

The sound of his nickname falling from her lips
did crazy things to him. The familiarity of it made him ache for
all the things he couldn't have. "I know it's not a popular
sentiment but it's true. Love is a weakness that's easily
exploited."

She dropped her fork and it noisily bounced on
her plate. "That is such bullshit—and you know it."

His brow arched at her surprisingly angry
display. "That infatuation—that love—that Yuri felt for Lena nearly
got her killed when his past came knocking at his front door." He
didn't mention that it was only his contacts back in Russia and
light traffic that enabled him to save the two lovers before they'd
been killed. "It was the same thing for Benny and Dimitri and Ivan
and Erin."

"And us?" She dared him to deny that he cared
for her. "We care about each other as friends do. There's friendly
love between us. Does that me weak? Does it make you
weak?"

Friendly love? No, what he felt for her was so
much more profound.

He ignored her furious gaze and tucked back
into his breakfast. "You should be careful asking questions like
that. I doubt very much that you'll like the answer."

When he refused to meet her intense stare,
Vivian shoved back her chair and started to leave the table. He
pinned her in place with one look. Gesturing to her plate, he
ordered, "Sit and eat."

She glared at him. "Don't tell me what to
do."

"Then don't hurt yourself by trying to punish
me. I'm not the one who will spend the rest of the morning hungry
if you storm off."

She gritted her teeth but flopped back down in
her seat. Snatching up one of the fruit-filled pastries, she took
an obnoxiously large bite. "Happy now, Warden?"

Rather than reprimanding her for chewing with
her mouth open, he shrugged. "I'm not unhappy."

She growled and reached for her tea. After
swallowing, she said, "You're impossible, you know that? Like
straight-up impossible!"

He bit his tongue. It wouldn't do either of
them any good if he told her how maddening she was and how badly he
wanted to leap across the table and claim that wicked little mouth
of hers to kiss her into submission.

Certain they needed to change the subject, he
asked, "Are you painting today?"

"Yes."

"Is everything ready for the upcoming
show?"

"The gallery is sending over a truck tomorrow
for the last few pieces. I'll do a final walk-through in a few days
but I doubt anything will need to be changed. The layout Gustavo
showed me was amazing."

He loved hearing the excitement in her voice
whenever she talked about her art. Of all the things he'd ever done
for her, renovating that warehouse into studio space had been the
one that meant the most to both of them.

"Would you mind if Kostya stays at the
studio?"

"Do I have a choice?"

His lips settled into a grim line. "This
doesn't have to be difficult, Vee. You have to adjust to a new
normal."

"For how long?"

"As long as it takes," he said, unwilling to
give her a timeline that might have to be continually changed.
"After your shift at the restaurant, I'll take you
home."

She shook her head and sipped her tea. "I'm not
working tonight."

He frowned. "You're on the
schedule."

"I traded last night with Sveta. I'm going out
tonight."

His gut clenched as her words registered. "To a
club?"

"After we have dinner," she confirmed. "Faze
has a new DJ that I've heard awesome things about, and I'm slated
to work New Year's Eve so this is the closest I'll get to dancing
in the new year."

"You're going out in a group?" He phrased his
question carefully and desperately hoped she'd say yes. He'd seen
that bodyguard that worked for Dimitri sniffing around the last few
weeks. The former Marine looked like he wanted to do more than just
guard Vivian's body.

"Just some single friends," she said. "You
know—me, Bianca, Nadya, Kelly, one of his brothers and some guys
they know."

"And Sergei," he decided. "He actually likes
the club scene so you'll take him with you tonight."

"Fine." She shot him a mischievous smile. "Do I
have a curfew?"

He grunted and reached for his tea. "You're a
grown woman. I trust you to know when to pack it in for the
night—but just remember that Sergei has to work
tomorrow."

"Doing what exactly?"

He caught and held her gaze. Right after she'd
started working at Samovar, Vivian had dared to ask him if he
really was the Russian mob boss of Houston. He'd told her the
absolute truth, a truth that he'd never confirmed to any other
outsider. Though everyone knew what he was, it wasn't something he
publicly owned.

"I think this falls under the heading of
questions you might not like the answers to, Vee."

She rolled her eyes and rose from her chair.
"Like I don't already know?"

Maybe she did. Maybe she didn't. He wasn't
about to tell her more than she needed to know. "I'll get the
dishes. You finish packing."

"Yes, sir," she returned rather
saucily.

He watched her leave the kitchen, his gaze
glued to the sultry swing of her hips. She didn't even realize the
effect she had on men. If she had, Nikolai had no doubt she would
have found a way to use it to her advantage. Instead she flitted
through life without ever truly understanding what one of her sweet
smiles did to a man.

As he gathered up their dishes, Nikolai
wondered what was more dangerous to him. Was it the very real
possibility of trouble with the Calaveras motorcycle gang and the
Guzman Cartel or Vivian living in his home and sleeping across the
hall from him?

He'd put his money on Vivian.

Chapter Three

"One more drink and then we'll go," Bianca
promised as she dragged me toward the VIP bar in the exclusive
upstairs enclave at Faze. With my connection to Yuri and Lena, I'd
been granted access to the area the second I hit the front door,
something my small group of single friends loved.

Since my closest friends had paired off, I'd
started enjoying more of the social scene with unattached friends.
It was fun to get together with Erin, Lena and Benny and their guys
once a week for dinner, but I always felt like the odd one out.
With Bianca, a friend from high school, it was easier to enjoy the
Houston nightlife.

Somewhere along the way, Kelly Connolly, a
part-time bouncer at Faze and a private security agent with
Dimitri's firm, had joined our small group. He'd known Bianca's
older brother back in high school so she'd brought him into the
fold. Tonight, he'd convinced a couple of Marine buddies and Finn,
one of his older brothers, to come out with us.

Glancing back at our group of friends, I found
them heading down to the crushing throng of dancers on the main
floor. Nadya, a waitress from Samovar, led the way, her hips
wiggling as the trap beat smoothly transitioned to a popular
hip-hop mix. Two of her friends from college had joined our group
at the front door of the club. They danced down after
her.

Finn Connolly moved at a slightly slower pace.
I was still surprised at how well he walked and danced with his
prosthetic leg. I'd assumed his barely noticeable limp was from a
war injury, but I hadn't even realized he'd lost the bottom half of
his right leg in combat until his jeans had ridden up a little
during dinner, and I'd spotted the metal rods hidden by the
denim.

Like Kelly, Finn had served multiple tours of
duty as a Marine. I was pretty sure the oldest brother, Jack, had
done the same. Apparently it was a family tradition much like
working at the gym the three brothers had recently inherited from
their sick father. I'd heard through the grapevine that the old man
was in deep debt because of his gambling addiction but I wasn't
nosy or brave enough to ask Kelly if it was true.

"This DJ is hot!" Bianca sipped her drink. "But
she looks like she's about twelve!"

I could just make out the young woman manning
the DJ booth from our perch in the VIP section. She didn't look
quite twelve but she looked younger than me. "I think it's because
she's so petite."

"Well, I wouldn't know anything about that,"
Bianca said with a laugh and gestured to her full-figured
body.

A fierce fashionista, she owned her plus-sized
curves and had been blogging about fashion for bigger girls since
high school. She'd gone off to New York for three years of design
school before being called home after her mother suffered a
debilitating stroke. She now managed the family wedding boutique
and had recently started selling her own wedding gown
designs.

I envied her confidence. She made sexy look so
damn easy. Tonight, she'd gone for a bandage-style dress that
hugged her ample curves so perfectly. The shimmery gold color of
the fabric highlighted her gorgeous dark skin beautifully. The dark
berry stain on her lips and the dusting of gold shadow on her
eyelids accentuated her good looks. She'd drawn the appreciative
gaze of dozens of men tonight, and she'd done it so
effortlessly.

One man in particular seemed unable to tear his
gaze away from her. I caught Sergei watching her from the opposite
end of the bar. He'd melded well with our group tonight but he'd
made it clear that he wasn’t there to socialize. At the restaurant,
he'd sat between Kelly and Finn and joined in the conversation, but
once we hit Faze, he'd moved into the background as if to keep a
better eye on me.

"What's with tall, dark and Russian?" Bianca
took a dainty sip of her drink. "What is he? Like seven feet
tall?"

I giggled and stabbed at the ice cubes in my
mojito with a straw. "He is really tall. Taller than Ivan and
that's saying something."

"So what's he do? I mean, you know,
other than working for
the
boss
." She waggled her eyebrows.

"He owns part of a construction business." She
shot me a look of disbelief. "Really," I said with a laugh. "Some
of those guys have interests in legit businesses."

"Like?"

"Car washes, car dealerships, salons, spas,
strip clubs…"

She made a face. "Nasty."

I rolled my eyes. "Do I have to bring up your
birthday party? Those half-naked dancers were glorified
strippers."

"That's different. I enjoyed those hunks of
sexy man meat for one night. I don't pay my mortgage off the back
of some poor girl who has to shake her ass in front of strange men
to scrape by for a living."

I didn't really see the difference but it
wasn't worth arguing about tonight.

"How long do you think you'll have the big
Russian shadow?"

"I really don't know. It could be a long
time."