NIKOLAI (Her Russian Protector #4) (26 page)

"Absolutely," Bianca confirmed. "Her event
planning business does weddings, birthdays, quinceañeras, galas…
She designs some really gorgeous weddings. Like—she's been featured
in bridal magazines."

"You should give it a try," Lena urged. "What
do you have to lose, Erin?"

"We'll see," she said coyly and tucked the card
into her purse.

As my fitting was finished and I switched back
into my clothes, I couldn't stop thinking about how our
professional lives were changing so rapidly. Lena had walked away
from a comfortable but suffocating job and was in the planning
stages of launching her own specialized business. Benny had been
fighting to keep her family's bakery open, lost it in a
nearly-fatal arson and had re-opened in a much better location
where the business was thriving. Erin had been laid off from her
accounting job—that she'd hated—and seemed to have found her niche
in event planning.

And me? Well—the art show had produced results
far and above my wildest dreams.

It had been a week since the sellout show, and
I still couldn't quite wrap my mind around all the opportunities it
had created for me, especially with art prints and commissioned
painting inquiries. I'd always believed that I was good and that I
had the potential to support myself and a family as an artist, but
I didn't have any idea I was so close to realizing that dream.
Though I wasn't nearly done developing and honing my craft, I was
getting there. I was close enough now that I could taste
success.

"Are we making any stops on the way home?"
Sergei asked as I buckled my seatbelt. Since I'd returned to
classes after the winter break, he'd been my constant
companion.

"I don't need to stop anywhere. Do
you?"

He shook his head. "I'm good."

As we drove home, we let the alternative radio
station take the place of conversation. I sensed Sergei was deep in
thought about Bianca. When he steered us into the driveway, my
suspicions were confirmed.

"So—Bianca."

"Yeah?"

"She has a boyfriend?"

"No, but you're probably wasting your time
there."

He frowned and unlatched his safety belt.
"Why?"

"She doesn't date guys like you."

"Guys like me? Do you mean Russian? Or do you
mean white?"

I rolled my eyes. "I mean gangster
types."

Annoyance filtered across his face. "Why
not?"

It wasn't my place to go around talking about
Bianca's history but I could tell Sergei wasn't going to stop
asking. "When she was younger, she and her older brother stopped at
a convenience store one night before going to a movie. While they
were there a couple of punks decided to rob the place. They shot
the cashier, and when they turned the gun on her, Bianca's brother
stepped in front of her and took the bullet."

"He died?"

I nodded. "She was really messed up by that. We
actually met in one of those therapy groups for childhood survivors
of violent crimes. She's always been very careful about the men she
dates. Your…day job…puts you in a category that she isn't likely to
overlook."

Sergei put his hands on the steering wheel and
stared out the windshield. He seemed to be thinking over everything
I'd told him about Bianca. Eventually, he turned to me and grinned.
"That's okay. I like a good challenge."

I couldn't help but smile. He had no idea what
he was up against. "Well—good luck, Sergei."

He was still laughing when we started up the
sidewalk to the house. "How did the rest of you meet?"

Feeling a bit embarrassed, I admitted, "Lena
and I had the same probation officer from our run-ins with juvenile
detention."

Sergei stopped dead in his tracks and stared
down at me with absolute shock on his face. "You were a juvenile
delinquent?"

Face red, I nodded. "In my defense, I was
really young—like ten and eleven. My mom had just died, and my dad
was really screwing with my head. My grandparents were trying to
rein me in and keep me on the straight and narrow. I was basically
a hot mess."

He touched my arm. "I didn't mean to embarrass
you. I honestly didn't know."

I had only known Sergei for a couple of years
so I wasn't surprised. I doubted Nikolai allowed his men to sit
around and gossip about my sordid family past. "It's okay. We've
all made mistakes, right?"

"
Da
."

We started walking again, and I finished
answering his question. "When it was time for me to go to high
school, my grandparents sent me to St. Mary's. It's a private
all-girls Catholic school that has one of the best college prep
programs in the state. Lena was a senior there and Erin was a
junior and her best friend. They sort of took me under their wing
and kept an eye on me."

"And Dimitri's wife? When did you meet
Benny?"

"Benny was Lena's roommate during their
freshman year of college. I met her through Erin who met her
through Dimitri. She helped Lena and Benny reconnect."

We entered the mud room and slipped out of our
jackets. Because it was sort of wet and misty outside, I toed off
my shoes and left them to dry on one of the mats rather than
trekking muck all over the hardwood floors.

Sergei trailed me into the kitchen. "Catholic
school, huh? I bet you were hot in that uniform, especially with
that tiny little plaid skirt."

I playfully punched him in the arm. "You're a
pervert."

He waggled his eyebrows. "You still have that
uniform? I'd be happy to go upstairs and help you find it one of
those boxes so you can model it for me. "

"Sergei!" Nikolai's stern voice startled us.
The icy glare on my soon-to-be husband's face left Sergei
pale.

Not wanting Sergei to get in trouble for some
harmless teasing, I stepped between them. "He was just joking with
me."

Nikolai's gaze slid to me before flicking back
to Sergei. "Danny needs help hanging those paintings Vee unpacked
last night. He's in the library."

"Sure, Boss." Sergei hastily crossed the
kitchen and disappeared from sight.

Annoyed, I pursed my lips.
"Nikolai…"

He held up his hand. "I know he was teasing you
but I don't appreciate the humor. I won't allow the men who work
for me to make dirty remarks about my wife."

The blossoming feminist in me decried Nikolai's
extremely conservative stance—but I'd be lying if I said I didn't
secretly relish his possessive, protective behavior. Even
so…

"Kolya, you can't keep me in a glass
box."

His cheek twitched in that way I'd come to
recognize as his tell. He only did it when he refused to
acknowledge how unreasonable he was acting. "When it comes to you,
there are lines."

It was clear we weren't going to get anywhere
with this conversation, not today at least. Setting my purse on the
counter, I closed the distance between us and wrapped my arms
around his waist. He relaxed under my touch and embraced me
tightly.

Nuzzling my cheek, he whispered in Russian, "I
don't mean to upset you. I shouldn't feel so possessive of you but
you're precious to me."

Being told I was precious to him made my heart
swell. After the way I'd been discarded and abused and used by my
parents, I'd always secretly feared I wasn't good enough to be
loved or cherished. It was one of the reasons why I'd decided to
wait until marriage to make love. I wanted to know that I was truly
loved and desired and special. That I was worth the
wait.

Nikolai cupped my cheek and traced my mouth
with his thumb. "I'm not proud that it made me so jealous to hear
you two laughing about something so intimate."

"It didn't mean anything. It was just a silly
joke."

"I know—but I want to be the one teasing you
like that. I want to be the one who makes you blush."

"It wouldn't take much," I said with a playful
smile.

"No?" He lowered his face until our cheeks were
touching. His lips brushed my ear. "What if I told you that I'm
counting down the hours until I can strip every last piece of
clothing from your body and run my hands all over your naked skin?
That I sit in my office and dream of all the wicked ways I can use
my mouth to make you scream my name?"

My face grew heated as he described the things
he wanted to do to me. Breaths hitching in my chest, I dared to
glance up at him. The searing intensity of his gaze left me
trembling with excitement and arousal. Desire pooled low in my
core, and my body ached with such need.

I tried not to let my mind wander down that
path but his words conjured erotic images that left me licking my
lips and clenching his arms. "I think about the same things at
night. You have no idea how hard it is for me to stay in my room.
Sometimes I get up and make it all the way to my door before I find
the strength to go back to my bed."

My confession made him breathe harder. "Just a
few more days and there won't be any more doors between
us."

As his mouth descended toward mine, it curved
with mischief. "And you'd better dig out that old school uniform
because now I have to know what you look like in that tiny plaid
skirt."

My heart beat wildly in my chest at his naughty
request. "Oh?"

"Yes." His lips teased across mine. "And I
fully intend to have you while you wear it…"

"Nikolai!" I gasped at his scandalous
request.

He laughed softly and kissed me again. "I like
hearing you gasp my name like that."

I couldn't believe how he was teasing me. This
was a side of Nikolai I'd never seen—and I really liked it. The
closer we got to our wedding, the more he relaxed around me. These
little glimpses of how our intimate life would be left me shaking
with anticipation.

Licking my lips, I slid my hands up his arms
and rose on tiptoes to kiss him. As my hand glided along his chest,
I encountered a hard bump. "What's this?"

"Reach into my pocket and find out."

I narrowed my eyes at the impish curve to his
sensual mouth but did as instructed. My fingers closed around the
small box. Even before I retrieved it, I knew exactly what it
was.

Nikolai took the jewelry box from me and opened
it carefully. "I thought it was time I made it
official."

I hadn't minded my bare finger at all.
Engagement rings were just symbols. It was the love between us that
mattered.

But I'd be a bald-faced liar if I said I
couldn't wait to get his ring on my finger. He'd chosen a brilliant
round diamond surrounded by a halo of tinier stones. Instead of
platinum, he'd had the dazzling stones set in intricate, entwined
bands of yellow and white gold.

"Nikolai," I whispered with awe as he slid the
ring onto my finger. "It's so pretty."

"You like it?" The insecurity in his voice
surprised me. With everyone else he was supremely confident. Only
with me did he allow himself to show any vulnerability. I was
reminded of that morning he'd made me breakfast, when he'd told me
about love being a weakness. I hadn't fully grasped his meaning
then. Now, after everything we'd survived, I understood so much
better what he'd been trying to say that morning.

I touched his cheek and kissed him. "I love it,
Kolya."

He traced the braided gold. "I picked platinum
at first but I thought it would look too cold on your
finger."

I liked the way he described the richness and
warmth of the gold. "It will match the wedding band I picked for
you."

"I know."

Of course he did. No doubt he'd already taken a
peek at his ring at the jeweler he'd sent me to see.

A loud clatter and a string of curse words,
some Russian and other English, exploded from across the house.
Danny started arguing about whose fault it was the ladder had
fallen while Sergei complained about his hammered thumb.

With a heavy sigh of frustration, Nikolai
touched his forehead to mine. Since he'd rescued me, his home had
been overrun with people. For a man who valued his privacy, he
probably found it nearly unbearable.

"How much longer do we have to live like
this?"

His fingertips grazed my face. "I'm not
sure."

Staring into his eyes, I found the courage to
ask, "Does it make you nervous that it's been so quiet since you
rescued me? That no one has tried to hurt us again?"

He pulled me tighter into his embrace. "You
shouldn't worry so much."

Even as he tried to soothe me, I sensed he
shared my fears. The person who had ordered the hit on him all
those years ago had waited so long to try to hurt him again. I
suspected my father's release from prison had spurred my kidnapper
to action. He probably feared my father would squeal on him.
Leaving me to die in that fire was his way of hurting both my
father and Nikolai.

But he'd failed. Would he fade into the shadows
again and disappear for years? Or was he going to find a way to
finish what he'd started? My father's unexpected and unwanted
appearance at the gallery had me leaning toward the latter. This
guy, whoever the hell he was, wasn't going to accept failure a
third time.