Authors: Serena Vale
Chapter 3
Layla glanced nervously down at the crumpled slip of paper in her hands, re-reading the scrawled address written there for at least the hundredth time. She looked up at the bold, gold plated numbers on the gate in front of her. Yes, they did match, just as they had the last several times she checked.
She couldn’t see much beyond the wrought iron gate except for a small path, the home itself obscured by trees, but she had grown up in Boston and Layla knew that this was one of the most exclusive, expensive areas in the city.
She also knew she was stalling. Trying to avoid the real reason she was still standing there, hesitating. Unbidden, the conversation with the stranger, who had turned out to be none other than Dominic Strokowki, replayed again through her thoughts. He had been brutally honest with her, but he had also offered her a way out. A way to put her crumbling life back together.
Dom had told her all about his parent’s heartbreaking death, and Layla could still remember the awful look in his eyes, desolate, alone. Exactly how she felt, still reeling from her own mother’s death. That moment had solidified a bond between them, and she could feel it even now.
As sad as it had been, hearing about his parent’s accident, even worse was what had followed. He had laid it all out starkly, not trying to seduce or sugar coat. His father had denied him everything, his fortune, the business, his entire inheritance, his very birthright, only to be released after he was married and had a child.
And for some completely unknown reason, he had decided that Layla was just the person he needed.
And I need him,
she thought to herself, even though she hated finding herself dependent on a stranger. She had gotten yet another notice this morning. She had mere days to come up with over fifty thousand dollars or the bank would take her home. The home her single mother had raised her in, loved and cared for her in all of those years.
Doubts swirled through in a torrent. What he wanted from her…could she really give him that? Marry a man she barely knew, have a child with him? A wave of molten heat spread through her at the thought. He was devastatingly handsome, and exuded a raw sexuality that was impossible for her to resist. She wanted him that much she knew. Her body clenched in pleasure at the idea of feeling his big hard body pressed against hers, the contrast of his pale skin against her dark until they were both so entwined…
Mentally, she shook her head, trying to banish the images that were conjured at the thought. Her heart was racing, and she could feel the hot blush staining her cheeks a dark scarlet under their normal mocha hue. She pressed both hands to her face, trying to calm herself.
Layla had made her decision the night before, staring at an ever growing mountain of bills and threats from debt-collectors, she realized that she didn’t have much of a choice at all. She didn’t have anyone to turn to. The only other person she had in the world was gone, and she was left alone.
Just like Dominic
.
Taking a deep breath, she moved to press the call button next to the gate, but just as she was about to press down it opened, seemingly of its own accord. Startled, Layla glanced around, but didn’t see a camera or anything that would have alerted whoever was inside. Fortifying herself, she stepped onto the property, and headed down the short lane to the house itself.
It took just a few moments to reach the front entrance of the house, if she could even call it that. It was almost a palace, standing over three stories high, and so massive she couldn’t even see the entire building from where she was standing. Layla realized that to Dominic, her debt of fifty thousand was nothing more than pocket change to him.
She hesitated again, as she stopped in front of the giant double doors that led into his home. Could she really do this? Could she go through with this? She knew her situation was desperate, with no job, no money, and a mountain of debt she could never hope to crawl out of on her own. But marry Dominic, and have a baby together? Once more, doubts flooded her, weakening her resolve.
Just as she made up her mind to turn around and forget this crazy scheme of his, her cell phone rang. Immediately grateful for the distraction, she dug it out of her black leather purse and answered.
“Hello, this is Layla Banks.”
“Ms. Banks, this is the accounts receivable department for Saint Mary’s Hospital.” Layla’s stomach dropped. She should have known. The only people who called her these days where people she owed money to. The disconnected voice continued, blithely unaware of the panic he caused in her.
“Ms. Banks, our records indicate that you are several months behind on your payment. Unfortunately, if we don’t receive a payment soon, we will have to issue a lien on your assets.”
“I know. I know I’m late. But I’ll be able to make a payment within the week, I promise.” Layla held her breath, choking back the tears that threatened to overwhelm her.
“I most certainly hope so, Ms. Banks. I really don’t want to do that.”
Layla hung up the phone dejectedly, and turned around again until she was once more facing the door. She threw her shoulders back, looking straight ahead. Her decision was made.
With a decisive step, Layla stalked toward the big, oak double doors, raising her hand to knock. Again, before she could even reach the door, it swung open revealing an older gentleman in a crisp black suite.
“How do you guys keep doing that?” She mumbled under her breath as he gestured for her to enter.
“I’m sorry, what was that miss?” He inquired as he took her jacket from her. She quickly shook her head.
“Oh, it was nothing.” Firmly, she held out a hand. “I’m Layla Banks.” He stared her still outstretched hand for a moment, as if unsure what to do, before reaching out and shaking it in a short grasp.
“I am Jonathon Fitzgerald, but most people refer to me as Fitzgerald.” He released her hand and took a step back, seamlessly handing her coat off to a woman Layla hadn’t noticed before standing just behind him. She hastily turned to introduce herself, but a quick gesture from Fitzgerald had her scurrying into another room.
“We have been expecting you, Ms. Banks.”
“Oh, please. Just call me Layla.” He gave a single nod in her direction as he led her into yet another room, this one with three massive aged leather couches. “If you’ll wait in here? Mr. Strokowski will be here momentarily.”
Layla had just opened her mouth to reply, but he was already gone, shutting the heavy oak door of the room on her unanswered questions.
*
Dom stood just on the other side of the door, trying to calm his racing heart. He had watched Layla as she had hesitated just outside of the gate, and then again by the front door. He knew what he was asking of her, and it was a lot. But he was offering a lot in return, he argued with himself. It sounded like excuses to him.
The thing that bothered him the most, though, was his unexpected reaction to her. When he had seen her, standing there, holding his future in her delicate hands, Dominic had been struck by her beauty, her grace. There was some secret quality that she possessed that had made it impossible for him to look away from the grainy security feed. She completely captivated him. It worried him.
It was already a difficult enough situation without adding unnecessary complications, but he couldn’t deny the desire that had flared through his body, powerful and immediate.
Without another second to let himself worry, he opened the door and strode in. Seeing her on the video did nothing to prepare him for seeing her face to face again. His breath stalled in his chest as she stood. Her body was a treasure trove of magnificent curves and valleys that made his mouth water at the thought of everything he wanted to do to it. Lust suffused him, and he cleared his throat, trying to get his wayward body back under control.
He walked towards her slowly, after he was sure he could resist the urge to reach out, wrap his arms around her, and kiss that delectable mouth. But as he got closer, the temptation doubled as her delicate, feminine scent wound around him until he was inhaling her every time he took a breath. It was too much to take.
Before he realized what he was even doing, his lips were on hers, and it took every fiber of his being to make it gentle, tender when every part of him was screaming at him to ravish her.
He broke the kiss slowly, and couldn’t hold back the small grin at her breathless gasp and flushed cheeks. He stared down into her beautiful face, her big, chocolate brown eyes threatening to drown him then and there.
“Well,
vozlyublennaya
, are you ready?”
Chapter 4
Layla stared down at her hand, not recognizing it with the giant marquee cut diamond and matching silver wedding band. It had been a quick courthouse affair, almost quick enough for her to believe it hadn’t even happened. She glanced up as the plate was placed in front of her. Layla looked at Dom, unable to keep the sudden humor from shining in her wide, dark brown eyes.
“And here I was beginning to think you were good at everything.” She looked down at the plate of burnt chicken and extremely well done carrots. He just shrugged unabashedly as he set down a big wooden bowl filled with a salad he had thankfully bought premade. It looked like it was the only edible thing on the table.
“We always had a cook growing up, so I never had to learn how to feed myself.” He said nonchalantly, and Layla was struck yet again by how different their lives were. They were polar opposites in so many ways, and yet, she felt inexorably drawn to him.
Something of her thoughts must have shown in her serious gaze, because he was suddenly beside her, staring down at her with concern in his silver gaze.
“
Vozlyublennaya
, what is it? Why do you look so serious all of the sudden?”
“You keep calling me that.
Sweetheart
.” Layla said, avoiding the uncomfortable question she didn’t have an answer to. Dom arched a black brow in surprise.
“You speak Russian?”
She couldn’t contain the soft laugh, although there wasn’t much humor in it. Here they were, married, and they barely knew anything about each other.
“I lived in Moscow for a year during college. It was part of this study abroad program. I don’t speak it fluently, but I can recognize a word here or there.” Suddenly, she grinned at him, trying to lighten the mood again. “So you better watch what you’re saying in Russian. I just might understand.”
He laughed, delight making his eyes sparkle as he leaned close, as if about to tell her a secret. “Oh no,
umnyy ved’ma,
I wouldn’t try and keep anything from you.”
Layla tipped her head to the side, trying to decipher what he had just said.
“Something about a clever…witch?” She said in mock effrontery, and Dom laughed again, full chested and loud as if he couldn’t hold it in. The noise sent warmth shooting through her. She liked to see this man happy, it softened the devastatingly gorgeous features into something more approachable, almost attainable.
But I already have attained him
, Layla realized in disbelief,
he’s my husband.
His deep voice interrupted her thoughts. “…that’s not quite right, although it is close,” Dom was explaining, his heavy accent like music to her ears, “It’s an old Russian folk tale about a woman with magical abilities that was so wise, no one could ever trick her into giving up the secrets of her power. The woman’s name was
ved’ma
.” In a move so tender it had her chest tightening as her breath stalled, Dom reached out a large, masculine hand, and with the softest touch smoothed a stray lock of curly brown hair behind her ear, his finger tips sweeping the sensitive sweep of her neck as his touch trailed further down.
Sensation erupted from where he touched her, electricity flashing through her body in powerful waves that stole her ability to think, paralyzed her, and left her aching for more. Much more.
There was a tense moment between them as she just sat there, staring at him, wanting him but unsure of what to say, how to say it. She could read the hunger that flooded his silver eyes as he met her dark gaze, and it had her squirming in her seat.
She just had time to take a shallow breath before his lips descended on hers, at first slow, cautious. But a sudden groan echoed out of his mouth, and then he was touching her with a voracious hunger. It exploded over her, and running on instinct, she opened her mouth, allowing his tongue access.
Layla gasped as pleasure swamped her, crashing over her in a molten wave that threatened to drown her. She wasn’t sure she wanted to resist. The feel of Dom’s hot, strong hands sliding over her dark skin had her panting against his mouth. Her thoughts swirled, and then narrowed, until only his touch existed. She was helpless against it, against him.
Somehow he pulled her even closer, sweeping her out of the chair and into his arms. She swung dizzily as he lifted her as if she weighed nothing, which she knew for a fact was not the case. But her brain couldn’t seem to keep up. They had been kissing, and now they were moving, Layla wrapped firmly in his embrace, but all she could seem to focus on were his hard lips on hers, tasting her.
The world shifted again and she found herself on her back in a dark room. Layla could feel the feather down comforter beneath her, and then the slide of silk as Dom moved her further up the bed.
She felt like she was about to explode, the breath building up in her lungs until she was sure she would burst from lack of oxygen. It was unlike anything she had ever felt before, the feelings, the sensations that he elicited was like magic. Currents of electricity fled from his fingertips as he lightly dragged them over her hips, up her ribcage, the undersides of her arms until he finally reached her wrists, dragging them up over her head.
The move had her body arching even more into his, and the hard bulge of his hot erection against her thigh had a soft moan whispering out of her mouth before she could stop it. He held her arms tight with one hand, restraining her, and the unexpected sensation turned her on more than she could ever imagined. Desire flooded her body at the idea of being possessed by this man, but at the same time, she felt so safe. More secure than she had since before her mother passed away.
Layla’s dark thoughts shattered on another groan as he quickly stripped her of her blouse and skirt, and she was left lying there in nothing but a black lace demi bra and matching thong. Dominic murmured his approval as his gaze drew over her voluptuous curves, making her shiver wherever it passed. It was so intense, she felt it like a physical touch.
Stark moments passed, and impatience bloomed within her. She needed him, now. He must have seen the desire burning in her dark brown gaze because he was instantly on top of her, kissing her, and then his mouth and hands where everywhere at once. Sweeping over her shoulders, her chest, down the hypersensitive skin on the inside of her thighs. He worshiped her with his touch.
“Please, Dom,” Her words whispered over his chest, low and husky, “I can’t wait anymore.”
He paused at the sound of her voice in the darkness of the room, his body tensing as he gave her one last kiss on the sensitive curve of her neck.
“Are you sure?” She felt more than heard the words at her ear. Layla nodded, but she knew he understood because in the next instant her bra was gone, tossed heedlessly to the floor. Her panties soon followed. She was panting by the time they were both unclothed, but the feel of him, skin to skin, had her purring and moving restlessly beneath him.
“Now, Dominic. I need you, now.”
The words were barely out of her mouth before she felt him at her entrance, and then all her words fled as he slowly pushed inside her, stretching her, a low groan pulled from his chest at the exquisite feel of her wrapped around him.
He pulled out with the same slowness, and the feeling of friction had her muscles tensing around him. It was all he could take. Suddenly, he was pounding in and out of her, faster and faster. He still held both wrists above her head, restraining her with one hand, while the other supported him as he began to thrust wildly.
Her body was on fire, and inferno of sensations that kept growing and growing until she thought she couldn’t take anymore. She reached for that edge, the precipice she knew was coming. Suddenly, she heard Dominic’s voice in her ear, low and rough, murmuring words in Russian that her lust befuddled brain couldn’t’ make out, but the sound washed over her, the tenderness she could hear that last thing she needed to push her over.
In a blinding wave of pleasure, Layla moaned his name, unable to contain the sound, and then she could feel him coming inside her and another swell crashed over her, stealing her breath completely. They both collapse in a boneless pile on the bed, wrapped in each other as Layla was swept into unconsciousness on a wave of bliss.
Dominic lay there, still breathless, his body humming with the most extreme satisfaction he had ever felt. No one had ever affected him like that before. He glanced down at Layla, who was sleeping peacefully pillowed on his chest, and his breath stalled again, but for a different reason.
It felt like a physical blow, the emotions rushing through him, lancing him. On a trembling exhale he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close, encapsulating her in his warmth. As gently as he could, he laid a kiss on the top of her head. She looked so relaxed, so at peace in his arms.
It struck him then that she was his. Truly his. His wife, for better or for worse. His to care for and cherish, and maybe one day…He cut the thought off brutally. He couldn’t afford to lose his heart to anyone, especially the gorgeous minx fast asleep on top of him. He knew that way only led to pain, for one or both of them. He was just afraid it might be too late.