Authors: Roxie Rivera
"Good." They walked in silence for a few minutes. "So it's going well between the two of you?"
He laughed. "As if you haven’t been calling and texting her fifty times a day to ask?"
She thumped his arm. "I have not! I decided to stay out of it—"
"By asking me how it's going right now?"
"Forgive me for being curious about two of my favorite people."
"Okay," he said with a chuckle. "It's going well. We're making it work."
"I'm really happy to hear that. You two look good together."
"I like to think so."
Danny's idling car came into view, but he tapped Vivian's shoulder to stop her before they got any closer. She glanced up at him expectantly. "Yeah?"
He nervously rubbed the back of his neck and finally worked up the courage to ask her something a bit awkward. "Where would I go to buy some really nice, like extremely classy, lingerie for Bianca?"
An amused smile stretched Vivian's mouth. "
Oooh!
This sounds exciting!"
He groaned. "Come on, Vivian. Don't make fun of me."
"I'm not." She patted his arm. "I'll take you to my favorite shop after we shower and change. I've gone there with Bianca so I know they have her measurements on file. It's a very high-end place. You'll find plenty of beautiful things for her."
Considering Nikolai only allowed Vivian to buy the very best, Sergei was assured of the finest quality for Bianca. He had no doubt it was going to be outrageously expensive, but she was worth it. Besides, he had promised to replace the nightgown he'd torn from her body that first night. After that mess with Kevan, he never again wanted to think of any other man when he peeled away the frilly, silky things she liked to wear. He wanted to know that it was something he picked especially for Bianca that she wore for him.
While he guided Vivian across the street to Danny's idling car, he wondered at the overwhelming possessiveness he felt toward Bianca. He'd had plenty of girlfriends before her and never once had he experienced such a surge of greediness. It surprised him considering he had shared women in bed—sometimes with other women and sometimes with other men—on at least half a dozen occasions. He hadn’t experienced the slightest bit of jealousy during those encounters.
The idea of letting another person touch Bianca the way he enjoyed touching her made his heart seize. His fingers curled into tight fists. Hell. Fucking. No.
He remembered Ivan once telling him about the moment Erin had walked into his life. His trainer and mentor had confessed that Erin ensnared him with one simple, easy smile. Ivan swore he had known the moment he brushed tears from her face that she would be his—always and forever.
But Sergei's intense reaction toward Bianca perplexed him. From his very first date as a young, innocent teenager to now, he had only ever felt this level of possession with Bianca. He had dated some beautiful, sweet, lovely women over the years, but only Bianca made him feel this way.
Deep down inside, he suspected the answer was simple enough. In fact, it was a four-letter word that he'd never uttered to anyone except his family. Instead of gripping him with dread or panic, the realization settled upon him like a warm embrace.
Fairly certain that Bianca needed much more time, Sergei decided to keep this discovery to himself. He didn't dare confess the depth of his affection just yet. She was still so skittish and might reject him outright.
Things like this couldn't be rushed. After waiting five months for her to let him into her life, he could find the patience to wait a little while longer. The last few days had proven that Bianca was well worth the wait.
Checking my rearview mirror, I switched off the ignition and slid out of my car. I glanced around the quiet, upscale and incredibly private neighborhood where Vivian lived. I expected to see the maroon sedan or the slate blue truck I swore had been following me all day, but the street was clear. Deciding that the visit from my prowler had put me on edge, I chalked it up to paranoia, headed up the sidewalk and rang the doorbell.
When the ornately carved door swung open to reveal Nikolai, I smiled nervously. Although he had never been anything but kind to me, he had an intimidating air about him. The sleeves of his crisp dove gray shirt were rolled up to his elbows, revealing a swath of tattoos I had never before seen. A couple of them were similar to the marks decorating Sergei's skin, but I suspected Nikolai had dozens more than the Russian heating up my sheets.
Doing my best not to stare at his arms, I met his inviting gaze. "Hi, Nikolai."
"Hello, Bianca." He stepped aside and gestured toward the entryway. "Please come inside. Vee is in her studio. She's waiting for you."
"Great." I walked by him but didn't go any farther than a few feet behind him. He probably wouldn't have minded if I had headed straight back to the recently converted home studio space, but I wouldn't have felt comfortable getting too casual in his home.
After he locked the door, Nikolai motioned for me to walk with him. "How is business?"
"Wedding season is in full swing so it's pretty wild around the shop."
"We're fully booked at Samovar with rehearsal dinners and catering orders. I can imagine what your schedule must look like."
"I'd rather be working my tail off than begging for business, you know?"
"Oh, I know."
The faint thump of electronic music filtered through the closed French doors sealing off the studio. He reached for the handle but didn't immediately open it. Instead, he glanced at me and asked, "How long have you had this problem with the prowler?"
Surprised by his interest, I replied, "Um, you know, just a few weeks. Why?"
His shoulders bounced nonchalantly. "You're one of Vee's best friends. She cares about you, and it's important to me that the people she cares for are safe."
"Oh. Well…thanks."
He tilted his head in acknowledgment and rapped his knuckles against a glass pane before opening the door. "Vee? Bianca is here."
She appeared with paint-stained fingers and a smock smudged with old, dried paint. Twirling a palette knife, she waved me inside. "Hey! I'm just finishing up. You want to help me clean brushes?"
I issued a little laugh. "Sure."
"Vee," Nikolai cut in carefully, "I'll take care of that for you later." He gestured around the studio. "The fumes,
solnyshko moyo
."
So he was worried about the fumes from paint thinner? I ticked another box on my running list of pregnancy symptoms. Now I was all but certain Vivi had a little Nikolai bun in that oven of hers.
Vivian placed her paint-splattered hand atop her husband's on the door knob in a loving gesture. "All right, Kolya. I'll leave the brushes for you."
He bent down, kissed her cheek and then brushed his lips along the curve of her throat in a sensual, intimate way. Smiling at us, Nikolai backed away from the door. "Bianca, will you be staying for dinner?"
"Oh, I wouldn't want to intrude."
"You're not," he assured me. "I'll set a third place for dinner."
"What about Sergei?" Vivian asked. "Is he free tonight?"
"No, he's staying late at the gym. He told me he was going to grab a bite with some of the guys from the warehouse."
"Would you like a glass of wine, Bianca? I'd be happy to bring one to you," Nikolai offered.
"No, but I'll have one with dinner." I held up a finger. "It's my one glass limit when I'm driving."
"Smart girl," he said and left us.
Vivian looped her arm through mine and brought me into the studio. "I'm trying to finish up a few new pieces for my London show."
"Oh! Right!" After her spectacularly successful show in January, Vivi had networked her little backside off and snagged a major benefactor in the international art world. Niels Mikkelsen, the Danish billionaire art collector and magnate, had fallen in love with her art and had massaged his contacts abroad to get her an invitation to show her pieces in one of London's best galleries. It was a huge accomplishment for her, and I couldn't be prouder.
"Are you going to come?"
"To London?"
"Yes."
"Um…"
"Come on! You know you want to go."
"Well…"
"You and Sergei could make it a romantic getaway." She suggestively waggled her eyebrows. "You both need a vacation."
The idea tempted me enough that I didn't immediately shoot it down. "We'll see."
Smirking triumphantly, she dropped her dirty paint brushes into a plastic bin and put the lids back onto the tubes of opened paint. I examined the canvases propped up on easels. Upon closer inspection, I realized she was reviving old techniques I hadn't seen her use since high school. "You're doing mixed media with this collection?"
"I'm building off the tattoo histories for this collection and doing my interpretation of all this." She whirled a palette knife around her head. "You know, this bizarre life of mine and the juxtaposition of
nice
Houston with, well, the
darker
side of the city. It felt right to go back to something grittier, more textured." She studied her works. "Layers, you know? In art and life."
"I get it. I like it."
"I knew you would." She smiled at me. "So…tell me about Sergei."
I leaned against her worktable and fiddled with a paper towel. "It's really good."
"I hear he kicked in your door." She started to giggle. "I would have loved to have seen your face when you saw that door hanging off its hinges."
I couldn't help but laugh with her. "He made it all right by replacing the door."
"And running off your prowler last night?"
"Yes. Did he tell you about getting sort of arrested?"
"No! What happened?" She peeled out of her smock. "Should I be worried?"
"No. It was a stupid thing with Kevan. Sergei was chasing the prowler, and I called 9-1-1. Kevan was the closest police officer so they ran into each other. Kevan didn't buy his story so he cuffed Sergei and drove him to my house to prove that he was a liar. Honestly, I think he probably recognized Sergei as one of Nikolai's, um, employees. Kevan knows that I'm friends with you so I think he was trying to make a point about Sergei being the wrong type of guy."
She gave me a look. "Well that's awkward."
"You have no idea." I decided not to tell her about Sergei stripping me of the gifted clothing and making love to me until I thought I was going to pass out. I figured she wouldn't appreciate the details of Sergei's skills as a lover, especially since she considered him almost a brother. "Whatever Kevan was trying to do, it didn't work on me."
Vivian came to me and took my hand. She didn't say anything at first and seemed to be choosing her words carefully. "I know it's really hard for you to break your rule. I understand, and I respect your reasons for it."
Wondering where this was coming from, I frowned. "I know you do."
"So I'm not going to stand here and tell you that Nikolai's men are different than the men who took your brother away from you. I'm just going to say that Sergei is hands-down one of the finest men I've ever known." She held up her hand. "Okay. Yes, so he sort of crosses the line every now and then, but I know that he's never crossed
those
lines."
"But he's done so many illegal things." I voiced my fears. "How do I overlook that?"
She swallowed hard. "I accept Nikolai for what he is—and what he isn't. I love him, and I'm willing to take this walk with him, wherever it leads us."
"You sound like Sergei," I said softly. "He says we have to start our journey here, where we are now."
"And where is the journey going?"
"I don't know, Vivi."
"That's okay." She squeezed my shoulder. "You're still feeling out the parameters. It's a very new relationship."
"Is it?" I spoke aloud a thought I had been having all day. "Sergei and I have been dancing around this for months. Let's be real here. I've been in lust with that man since the first moment I saw him. What I feel for him now? It scares me. It's
that
strong."
"You say that like it's a bad thing."
"It's unsettling for me."
"So talk to Sergei," she suggested. "He's a good listener. I chat his ear off all day long. He always gives good advice when I need it."
"Really?"
"Yep." She squeezed my hand. "I know Sergei looks tough and scary, but he's a gentle soul. If you want him, let him know that you need some time. He'll wait for you."
"I already made him wait five months for a single kiss, Vivi."
"And he was happy to do it," she insisted. "Listen to me. Guys like Sergei and Nikolai? You know what they want? They just want a strong, sexy, smart woman they can love, spoil and pamper. If you think that's something you might want…"
"It is. Just…not yet."
"So tell him."
"I will."
Nikolai knocked at the door and popped his head inside the sunroom-slash-studio. "Dinner is ready."