The Russian's Pregnant Mistress

The Russian's Pregnant Mistress

by Elizabeth Lennox

Copyright ©2012 by Elizabeth Lennox

All rights reserved.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Chapter 1

Gabriella Smith cringed inwardly as the repetitive, techno-rap music started up again. The loud, thumping, pulse pounding techno sound vibrated around her, pulsing rhythmically with the same throbbing beat as the pain in her head. Her headache was growing stronger as she listened, or tried to listen, to the other women in her group. The music was so loud, she had no idea what half of them were saying but she smiled as if she were thrilled by the environment.

The only reason Gabby was still here was because her best friend, Margaret Baker, was getting married. This was her bridal shower, although why it was being held in a dark dance club with headache inducing, pulsing lights instead of in Gabby’s small home with lots of wine and a pretty, flower covered cake was specifically due to none other than Sylvia Henslow, debutante extraordinaire and obnoxious cousin of the groom. Maggie had found the love of her life about a year ago with Mark Henslow. Unfortunately, as with most marriages, he came with a lot of family.

Sylvia’s idea of bridal shower games was significantly different than Gabby’s preference. Instead of the trivia games about the bride and groom or even the more daring lingerie theme, Sylvia had commanded that they all play a ‘fishing’ game. It was Sylvia’s job to challenge each of the members of the bridal shower entourage to a new sport where the men attending the dance club were the unknowing victims…or targets as Sylvia preferred to call them. The others in the group chose the quarry and the selected bridal shower member had thirty minutes to get the guy to buy her a drink. If she failed in the allotted time, she had to buy everyone else a round of drinks.

For Sylvia and several other members of the bridal shower, this was not an issue except for their pride. Their trust funds had plenty of cash flow to cover several rounds of drinks every night of the week if needed. But Maggie’s other friends, Gabby included, thought that paying fifteen to twenty dollars per drink was a bit exorbitant. With fifteen members of the party, that many drinks would put a serious dent in the members of the group who had to work for a living.

The alcohol was flowing though and everyone else was on their fourth or fifth drink. Gabby was still sipping her first one and had barely finished a quarter of the potent mixture, not liking the feeling of being inebriated and the out of control issues associated with overindulgence. She had no idea what was in the cocktail, but even the small amount she’d ingested in the last hour was starting to impact her thinking capacity.

Gabby loved Maggie, was extremely happy that she’d found Mark and was excited for her friend’s future. But this ‘party’ was a bit too obnoxious for her taste. Gabby also knew that Maggie wasn’t having a good time either. She’d known her best friend since grade school and recognized the irritated facial expressions easily, although Sylvia was oblivious and on her way to becoming completely smashed.

Gabby forced a smile for Debra, one of the other guests who had just returned victorious with her drink held high in the air as if it were some sort of trophy. Gabby considered the whole concept was disgusting and in poor taste, not to mention abusive to the men who thought they were getting a dance companion in exchange for the drink.

She glanced to the side, not wanting to participate in the victory celebration. Looking away, her eyes were riveted by a broad shouldered, dark haired man who was sitting off to the side. He looked dangerous, with a hawk-like nose and dark, sinister eyes. She could tell that he was very tall simply by the way his long legs were positioned in front of him. With the low couches, his legs barely fit between the edge of the sofa and the table in front of him. He didn’t look uncomfortable though. In fact, he looked like he owned the whole dance club. He exuded a confidence that suggested wealth and power. And some un-definable attribute that was eye-catching…alluring. Dangerously enticing.

When he turned his head, she gasped as he caught her glance. Gabby quickly looked way, focusing on the other women who were laughing at Debra’s recounting of her triumph, ridiculing the man who had been suckered out of his money for a drink only to find himself alone as Debra took her prize and walked away, leaving the poor guy standing by the bar wondering why he was suddenly alone and out forty bucks. Maggie smiled up at her, then turned her head as she rolled her eyes in Gabby’s direction. Gabby smothered a laugh and turned away as well so the others wouldn’t be offended by their amusement. But as soon as Maggie politely turned her attention back to Debra, Gabby looked back at the man, wanting just another quick look.

She gasped when she found him staring right back at her! Why hadn’t he turned away? He wasn’t playing the game right. Here in this dance club, men and women looked towards one another, then pulled their gaze away, pretending to not be interested in each other until one of them made the first move. It was a power struggle that was played out over and over again amongst these wealthy patrons but this man was simply staring back at her without worrying that Gabby might think he was weak for showing his interest.

Okay, to be fair, there was really no way anyone could think that this man was weak. His black turtleneck hugged his broad shoulders and bulging biceps, showing off muscles that the other men in the room could only wish they had.

Gabby pulled her eyes away and refocused on the group. They were putting in their drink orders, Sylvia offering to buy the next round and nominating Maggie for the following set of drinks if their subsequent candidate failed. Gabby wasn’t so sure that was fair, seeing as how Maggie was the guest of honor.

Jenny was up next for the man versus drink challenge and all of the ladies were glancing about the bar and dance floor, trying to find Jenny’s male victim.

“Oh my goodness!” Sylvia gasped. All eyes turned towards her, waiting until Sylvia closed her overly glossed mouth and explained her shock. “Don’t look now, but you’re never going to guess who is sitting about thirty feet to our left.”

Gabby’s stomach clenched with fear of what Sylvia was about to say. Was it her man? The guy she’d spotted a moment ago? She couldn’t look, didn’t want to know. And yet her eyes looked up just at that moment.

Debra obviously didn’t follow Sylvia’s command to ‘not look’ since she too gasped when her eyes took in the delectable, tall male sitting on the nearest sofa by himself. “It’s Damon Petrov! Isn’t he the yummiest?” Debra was saying. “I love it when the filthy rich ones are also handsome.”

Gabby’s heart sank when she noticed that it was indeed the man in question. Two other women had somehow found a way to sit next to the man, both were barely covered by the material of their dresses and leaning towards him with a look that shouted, “I’m yours! Take me!” One brazen woman was clad in a metallic looking dress that was so low in the front it was almost indecent and there was absolutely nothing on her back until the material covered her round little bottom. The second woman was wearing a red dress that clung to every curve of her body. She might as well be naked since nothing was left to the imagination.

Gabby looked away, swallowing past the lump in her throat as she watched the two women sit down next to the handsome man, disappointment creating a metallic taste in her mouth. She continued to keep her eyes focused on her drink while the women surrounding her leaned forward eagerly, discussing the man in question. She didn’t want to hear, but their excitement and mercenary interest broke through even the loud, pounding music.

Was this jealousy she was feeling? Towards a stranger? That was ridiculous! She’d never even met the guy, didn’t know his name and had only looked at him across the room. Being jealous of someone she didn’t know and had no claim on was not healthy.

“Isn’t he that billionaire communications guy?” Debra asked, actually licking her lips in anticipation of meeting the man in question.

Sylvia nodded eagerly, her eyes showing that she was mentally calculating the man’s net worth. “The one and only. He was on the cover of one of last month’s magazine as one of the world’s richest men.” Silvia continued to strain her neck to get a better look at him, her eyes alight with anticipation. Gabby hated the idea of the man in question falling for Sylvia’s blond sleekness. But there was no help for it. Sylvia was so stunning and confident, no man stood a chance of resisting when she approached.

Debra suddenly let out a burst of harsh, nasty laughter. “Uh oh. Those little wannabees were rejected pretty quickly,” Debra said, laughing maliciously.

Gabby wasn’t sure what had happened. She dared a look back over and noticed that the man was alone once again. And staring right at her!

Gabby blushed and looked away, that wretched feeling instantly dissipating when she saw that the man in question wasn’t with those tramps.

“Gabby! This guy is all yours,” Maggie called out, turning to Gabby and raising her glass for encouragement.

Sylvia snickered and looked across their small space at Gabby in her borrowed dress and shoulder length brown hair with curls going in every direction. “There’s no way Gabby could get Damon Petrov to buy her a drink,” the spiteful woman declared and stood up.

Debra stood up as well. “No way, Syl. I get this one!” she said and both women started forward, determined to approach the man and win a place in his bed for the rest of the evening.

Gabby gasped and moved her legs out of the way quickly. Sylvia and Debra weren’t paying the bridal shower any attention in their quest to reach the mysterious Damon Petrov.

Maggie moved over so she was sitting next to Gabby. “What a twisted mind,” Maggie said so that only Gabby could hear. “She puts new meaning to the term gold digger.”

Gabby couldn’t help but laugh and nod her head, but she didn’t want to watch the two beautiful blond women approach Mr. Petrov. She knew that one of them would be successful and she hated the idea. She didn’t want him for herself. No, that was out of the question. Mr. Petrov was completely out of her league. She was a website designer with muddy brown hair and boring blue eyes. Even the dress she was wearing was borrowed from Maggie earlier tonight. The green and turquoise chiffon dress floated around her, hugging her breasts with a deep V that showed off the inside swells of her breasts before floating downward past the empire waist to about mid-thigh. This wasn’t anything like what she would normally wear, but she wouldn’t ordinarily be in a dance club. Maggie had lent her the dress, and the matching shoes so that she wouldn’t feel out of place.

But even in the borrowed dress, she still couldn’t compare to the sultry, unashamed sexuality that Sylvia and Debra conveyed effortlessly. Those women were the types that would appeal to a man as blatantly sexual as Damon Petrov. He was dark and dangerous and his broad shoulders screamed sex.

But as they approached, sitting down as close as possible to the man in question, they were immediately and unceremoniously ejected by the guards who magically appeared, taking each woman’s elbow and pulling them back off the seats.

Damon watched with disgust as two more blonds began their approach. With a flick of his wrist, Justin and Marco stepped in and took care of the situation. He hadn’t come here to find a woman. He was here to find his brother. His information told him that Yuri frequented this establishment often so here he was, lying in wait for his absent minded brother, listening to music that was beyond annoying and swatting away women who were little better than prostitutes. He knew that everything came with a price. He’d grown up on the streets, fighting for the survival of him and his brother and the basic rule of the streets was that nothing was free.

If he hadn’t needed to check in with Yuri, who had been ignoring his phone calls for the past few weeks, Damon wouldn’t ever have stepped foot into this night club. But Yuri was the only family he had and Damon became worried when his little brother didn’t check in with him. Yuri wouldn’t do anything illegal, but that didn’t mean some miscreant wouldn’t take advantage of him. Yuri spent most of his time in a university library, reading and working on his dissertation. Every once in a while, he stuck his head up for breath and came out dancing. It was such a contradiction to Yuri’s normal lifestyle, but Damon supposed that everyone needed an escape in some way.

This particular club was on the more obnoxious end. The women might not blatantly be selling their bodies, but they definitely weren’t free. Succeeding in business had only reinforced that knowledge. His communications firm was one of the largest in the world and he had plans to expand even further, doing so by understanding the way the world worked in all aspects of society. He swallowed up weaker companies almost weekly in order to expand his business reach and had no qualms about exploiting other businesses’ weaknesses. It was the law of the streets, he told himself. The only way to survive was to crush one’s competition.

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