Dimitri (2 page)

Dimitri snorted with amusement and dropped the
sugar sacks into place. "You can take advantage of me anytime you
want, Benny."

I was glad my back was turned. His double
entendre made me blush with embarrassment. I could tell he was only
joking with me but I couldn't help but wonder if my crush on him
was that obvious. Clearly, Johnny had picked up on it. He'd made
that cutting remark earlier because he knew it would hurt me. So
much for brotherly love…

With a nervous laugh, I turned around—and
slammed right into Dimitri's chest. He grabbed my shoulders to
steady me. The scent of him punched the air right out of my lungs.
All that soothing body heat radiated from him in waves, washing
over me and filling me with such a longing need. Years of denying
my attraction to the dead sexy Russian were finally starting to
take their toll.

"Careful, Benny," he murmured.

"Sorry."

When his hands dropped from my shoulders, they
skimmed my arms. The sensation of his fingertips gliding over my
skin left me momentarily dizzy. I tried not to let my mind go to
the dirty place it wanted to visit.

He stepped away from me and glanced around the
overstocked storeroom. "This is a bigger order than
usual."

Finally getting a grip, I said, "It's for that
Tasting Houston thing Lena convinced me to do."

A few weeks earlier, an old college friend,
Lena Cruz, had traipsed back into my life. By the strangest
coincidence, one of her friends was dating one of Dimitri's
friends. She currently worked at one of Houston's mega PR firms and
offered to do me a huge favor by helping me drum up
business.

"On Saturday, right?"

I nodded. "She thinks it will be a good way to
build our brand. I'm not so sure about all that marketing and
branding talk but she seems to really know her stuff."

I didn't add that I was desperate for her
marketing plan to work. We needed to increase our customer base and
grow our revenue stream if the bakery had any hope of surviving
this tight spot.

Deep down inside, I feared that
nothing would work. Jonah Krause, the real estate developer who
wanted my building wasn't the kind of man who liked the word
no
. I'd managed to fend
him off for a few months but I was starting to worry that he would
ratchet up the pressure on me. I'd heard some eyebrow-raising tales
from my neighbors about the tactics he'd used to strong-arm them
into selling.

Glancing around for my clipboard and checklist,
I realized I'd left it in my office. "Be right back. I need to grab
my list. Marco supervised the delivery but his eyes aren't what
they used to be. Sometimes he miscounts."

He nodded and I scooted by him, careful not to
bump into his arms or chest. Every time we made accidental contact,
it made it harder and harder for me to ignore the throbbing heat in
my lower belly.

It was stupid, really, my infatuation with
Dimitri. Over the years, I'd had the misfortune of seeing some of
the bombshells he'd dated. Nothing made this petite Latina with a
slightly too-curvy figure more self-conscious than a mental
comparison of myself with the leggy, willowy beauties I'd seen on
Dimitri's arm.

All thoughts of my wicked crush on Dimitri fled
the moment I stepped into my office. The bank bag on my desk was
upside down and the papers under it had been disturbed. One of my
desk drawers, the one where I kept important contracts and papers,
was slightly ajar. Even before I grabbed the bag and unzipped it, I
knew what I would find.

My stomach dropped like an out of control
elevator as I counted and recounted the day's takings. Three
hundred dollars were now missing—and I knew exactly who had taken
it. At the time, I hadn't given a second thought to Johnny coming
in the side entrance instead of the alley door. Now, of course, I
understood why he'd come into the bakery that way.

Awash in ugly feelings, I crashed down into my
squeaky office chair. His betrayal left me shaking with anger and
such profound sadness. What the hell was wrong with him? The
knowledge that I didn't know my brother anymore hit me
hard.

But it was the realization that I'd failed him
and broken my promise to my grandmother on her death bed that made
my stomach churn so painfully.

Like a dam bursting, a flood of stress exploded
inside me. With my head buried in my hands, I started to cry. Big,
ugly loud sobs tore through me until I was choking on
them.

"Benny?"

*

Finding Benny sobbing into her hands caused
such a painful tightness in Dimitri's chest. He crossed the
distance between them in a few quick strides and crouched down in
front of her. Tears ran down her face and dripped onto her
shirt.

"I’m sorry." Her cheeks were flushed with
embarrassment. "I'm being stupid."

"Don’t," he whispered softly. There were
tissues on the corner of her desk and he plucked a handful of them
free. "You're not being stupid." Ever so gently, he dabbed at her
face. "What's wrong?"

Lower lip wobbling, she gestured to the bank
deposit bag and the stacks of cash on her desk. He took one look
and figured it out. Swearing roughly, he vowed to kick that little
bastard's ass the next time they crossed paths.

"How much?" Dimitri demanded.

"Three hundred," she said and sniffled loudly.
"I can't believe he would steal from me."

Dimitri could. Even though Benny knew Johnny
was getting into trouble, she had no idea the extent of his
criminal behavior. She didn't know because Dimitri had been
shielding the ugliness from her. She'd been through so much in the
last few years. He couldn't bear to see her heart broken anymore by
her worthless little shit of a brother.

"Dimitri?"

"Yes?" He fought the urge to cup her beautiful
face and kiss the sadness out of her.

"Why do you think he needs money?" She
nervously licked her lips, drawing his gaze to her pink pout.
"Drugs? Worse?"

"I don’t know," he lied. "It could be anything.
Maybe it's something stupid like buying alcohol or
gambling."

She held his gaze. "I don't think so. I think
it's something much more serious."

He couldn't bring himself to confirm her
suspicions. Three hundred dollars would be enough to buy an
unmarked piece and a box of ammunition from one of the backstreet
dealers who worked the area. If Johnny thought he needed a gun to
defend himself, it meant Benny wasn't safe. His gut twisted at the
idea of Benny being hurt by her brother's stupid
choices.

"Listen," he said and rubbed his hands over the
denim covering her thighs. "Why don't you come up to my apartment?
Let me cook you dinner."

And keep an eye on you…

"Oh, Dimitri, you don’t have to offer to make
me dinner. I'll be okay."

"I want to make you dinner." He didn't add that
he wanted so much more than that with her.

For more than a year, he'd been secretly in
love with Benny. The change from friendship to infatuation had come
upon him so slowly; he hadn't even fully realized how he felt
toward her until the day her grandmother had passed.

Overcome with grief, Benny had rushed into his
arms and he'd cradled her on his lap as she wept. Holding her felt
like the most natural thing in the world—and he'd never wanted to
let her go. He'd been overwhelmed with the realization that he
loved her.

But he hadn't been brave enough to say it then.
Nor had he found the courage to do it any day since. The few times
he'd come close to asking Benny out for dinner or a drink, he'd
lost his nerve. He was keenly aware of the huge burdens she
shouldered and he liked that she felt comfortable coming to him for
help. The idea that making his move might upset the balance of
their friendship and push her away from him stopped Dimitri from
taking a chance.

Moving his hands to her jean-clad knees, he
said, "We'll open a bottle of wine and you can relax while I cook
you something delicious. And we'll talk. We'll figure out a way to
deal with Johnny and his mess. Okay?"

Something flashed in her dark eyes. Interest,
perhaps? He didn't dare hope for anything more.

With a smile, she acquiesced.
"Okay."

"Wonderful." He stood and gestured to the desk.
"You recount the money. I'll go check the list and lock up the
back."

She handed him the keys and clipboard. Their
fingers briefly touched and the searing heat of it made his gut
clench. He couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to have
her soft, small hands touching other parts of him.

Taking a step back, he said, "Come find me when
you're ready."

"I will."

He quickly retreated from the office and
returned to the storeroom. List in hand, he checked and rechecked
the delivered supplies before locking up and shutting off the
lights. He heard her come into the back room of the bakery and
waited for her to find him. The sweet smell of her, the bare hints
of vanilla beans and cinnamon, curled around him and heightened his
awareness of her. It took every ounce of his control not to reach
for her hand and pull her toward him in the darkness.

Her gentle voice rolled over him. "I'm
ready."

God, how he wished that was true.

Chapter
Two

An hour and a half later, I sank into the comfy
corner of Dimitri's couch and curled my bare feet up onto the
cushion. He'd insisted I kick off my shoes the second I came in the
door. After being on my aching feet all day, it was a request I was
happy to meet.

I'd only been in his apartment a handful of
times since he'd signed his first lease five years ago but each
time I noticed something different. Tonight it was the display of
photos he'd placed on the far wall. Some of them were from his time
in the Russian military and one of their Special Forces units. A
maroon beret in a shadow box caught my eye. I'd never really asked
him about his time working in the elite unit but a little Google-fu
had shown me what kind of dangers he'd faced and survived during
the various engagements with terrorists and the wars that had taken
place during his service.

I spotted familiar faces in the photos from his
time here in Houston. Ivan, Yuri and Nikolai, his childhood friends
from Russia, were in most of them. The men all shared the same
commanding dispositions. They were the types of men you met only
once but never forgot.

My gaze lingered on a framed news clipping. Two
years ago, the paper had run a series of spotlights on successful
businesses headed by immigrants. My grandmother had been
interviewed one week. Dimitri's private security firm had been
showcased the next week. Using his background in the military and a
windfall from a shrewd investment in timeshares, Dimitri had
founded a small firm that selected and trained bouncers for the
city's hottest nightspots. Some of them also worked security at
places like Ivan's elite mixed-martial arts gym.

With all the money he had, I often wondered why
the heck he stayed here in this apartment. Even with the
improvements he'd made to the space—the hardwood floors and
gorgeous tiling—it was still an apartment with no backyard and very
little privacy.

Dimitri finished loading his dishwasher and
joined me in the living room. He tried to pour more wine into my
glass but I put my hand over the cup. "I shouldn't."

"You should." He gently pushed my
fingers aside and splashed more of the dark, rich wine into my
glass. "It's your second glass. Enjoy it.
Relax
."

It was the relaxing part that
worried me most. Being in his home, sitting at his table and eating
the delicious dinner he'd cooked for me had been more wonderful
than I'd ever imagined. His friendly offer had given me a glimpse
of what I'd craved for so long. I tried to ignore the pang of
longing growing heavier and heavier in my chest.
Why can't you see me
?

Dimitri settled onto the other end of the couch
and turned so he could look at me. With one foot resting on his
knee, he looked so at ease. "Let's talk about the
business."

I sipped my wine and grimaced at the very idea
of opening that Pandora's Box of fiscal nightmares. "Let's
not."

"No," he said firmly. "You need to talk about
it. I can see that it's eating you up. I'm terrified you're going
to have a heart attack or stroke from the stress of it all." He
nudged my bare foot with the toe of his boot. "Talk."

How could I deny him anything?

With a sigh, I said, "I'm struggling to make
ends meet." Because that wasn't quite the truth and I hated to hide
anything from him, I clarified my statement. "Actually, I'm
basically holding it all together with chewing gum and duct tape.
It's…bad." My gut soured as I admitted, "I haven't drawn a salary
in ten months and I withdrew from classes last week because I can't
afford to keep going right now. I wanted to finish my degree but
it's not feasible at the moment."