Sergei (2 page)

Casting a stealthy sideways glance, I took in the sight of him in that tuxedo. I didn't think that any man had ever made the classic black and white ensemble look so good. His tailor had fit him to sheer perfection.

Nikolai addressed him in Russian and Sergei answered back with a laugh while tugging free his bowtie and unbuttoning his collar. Inspired by the sight of him undressing just that tiny bit, I refused to let my mind travel along the rather naughty path it wanted to follow.

My heart stuttered wildly when he slid his massive arm along the back of my chair and leaned closer. Unable to avoid meeting his gaze, I shyly glanced at him. Those dark eyes of his ensnared me, made me want to slide a little closer so I could count the amber flecks in his irises. His sensual mouth curved, and it was all I could do not to finally give in to the desperate urge to kiss him just to see if it would be as amazing as I expected.

"You having a nice time?" That deep baritone voice of his made the womanly core of me clench with desire.

"Yes. You?" Somehow I managed to get out two words without stumbling over them.

"I love weddings."

"Really?" I let a little skepticism invade my tone.

He gestured around us. "When was the last time you saw people having this much fun?"

I considered his question. "Vivian's wedding."

"Exactly." His fingers brushed my bare upper arm. "Would you like to dance, Bianca?"

God, the way he said my name, his Russian accent stretching out the syllables and rolling over the vowel sounds, made me want to give in and break my number one dating rule. I wanted to hear him saying my name
all
night long—but I didn't dare cross that line. My late brother's face flashed before me, reminding me of exactly why Sergei was all wrong for me, and I gently shut him down.

"I can't." Lifting my clutch, I gave it a little wave. "I was actually on my way home when you sat down."

"So soon?" Vivi piped up from beside me. "But the night is still so young, and Erin hasn't tossed her bouquet yet."

I turned my head and gave her a look that made her smile guiltily. I knew
exactly
what she was doing but it wasn't going to work. "I have to pick Mama up for church in the morning and get there early enough to get into my choir robes."

Sergei's fingers drew a slash across my skin. "You sing at church?"

I turned back toward him and tried to ignore the way his touch made me throb in all the right places. "Yes."

"Then I'll have to come listen sometime."

My eyebrows arched toward my hairline as I tried to imagine Sergei in one of the pews of my childhood church. Boy, would he stick out like a sore thumb!

"If you're ready to leave, I'll drive you home."

"No, thanks." I had a bad feeling I wouldn't be able to fend him off with a handshake the way I had when he'd taken me home that frigid December night when he was Vivian's bodyguard and driver. "I have my car here."

"Maybe you should let him take you, Bianca," Vivian interjected very unhelpfully. "He could check your house and yard for that prowler."

Sergei stiffened and the flirtatious slant to his mouth vanished. His jaw visibly tightened and his big hand cupped my arm. "Is someone bothering you?"

If he had been a wolf, his hackles would have raised as he turned fiercely protective…of
me
. Surprised by his reaction, I quickly explained, "It's nothing. Really." Judging by the hard set of his jaw, he wasn't buying it. "Look, I just thought I saw something the other night."

"And Monday night and last Thursday," Vivi butted in again. "The neighborhood watch guy knocked on her door to let her know he'd seen someone running out of her backyard too."

If Vivi hadn't been sitting on her husband's lap, I would have pinched her for being so dang intrusive. Instead, I had to face Sergei who wore an expression of utter irritation. "It's nothing."

"It doesn't sound like nothing. It sounds like someone is trying to break into your home or attack you."

"It's fine. I called Kevan—"

"Who is Kevan?"

I didn't miss his gruffness. "He's a guy I date sometimes. A police officer," I added.

Sergei grunted with annoyance. Lowering his voice, he slid a little closer and asked, "Why didn't you call me?"

My eyes widened. Was he for real? Not wanting to let everyone in on my personal business, I whispered a bit harshly, "Why in the world would I call you?"

Something flashed in his dark eyes. Hurt? Frustration? Why in the world did the thought of hurting his feeling make my stomach ache so badly?

"We're friends," Sergei insisted.

Were we? I tried to decide if our relationship fit that category. Sure, I spent a lot of time in his company but that was only because Nikolai trusted Sergei to keep Vivian safe. I called Sergei her shadow for a reason. They were practically joined at the hip which meant that, technically, over the last few months, I'd had dinner with Sergei more often than I had any of the men I had dated.

And—if I was being completely honest with myself—I had enjoyed those evenings when he was sitting nearby or driving us around Houston. Beneath that rough exterior, he could be such a sweetheart. That scared me more than anything. He possessed so many of the qualities I wanted in a man but the package was all wrong. He was much too dangerous for me and too damn sexy for his own good.

Even now, I couldn’t fathom why this man—this outrageously handsome and sculpted model of male perfection—seemed so intent on getting closer to me. The experiences of my teenage years warned me that a guy like Sergei only wanted one thing from a girl like me. Some part of me feared this was all a setup for some colossal joke or even worse.

Maybe I was simply an itch that needed to be a scratched, a curiosity that demanded to be satisfied. I didn't think my heart could handle getting trampled under that huge foot of his if it turned out he was simply wondering what it would be like to date a fat girl or if he was trying to figure out if the stereotypes about big girls in bed were true.

"Bianca?" Sergei prompted, his voice even lower and softer. "Aren't we friends?"

Meeting his questioning gaze, I couldn't lie. "Yes, we're friends."

The tight lines around his mouth relaxed. "Then let me help you."

Certain his brand of help was the very last complication I needed, I reached out and patted his cheek. "I'm a big girl, Sergei. I've got this."

He covered my hand with his, the heat of his palm searing my skin. I marveled at the way our hands looked together, his tan skin a few shades lighter than mine and his fingers so long and thick and mean-looking. "This isn't a game, Bianca. You could get hurt."

His gentle warning scared me but I refused to back down. "I won't."

Tugging my hand free, I rose from my chair and bent down to peck Vivian's cheek. Whispering hotly against her ear, I said, "You are on my list."

She gave me a hug. "I had to try. Besides, we both know you'll forgive me."

"We'll see." I caught her husband's amused gaze and touched his shoulder. "Good night, Nikolai."

"Good night, Bianca. Be safe."

"I will."

After bidding farewell to Dimitri and Benny, I skirted the edge of the busy dance floor on my way toward the exit. Ever the glamorous, jet-setting couple, Yuri and Lena happened to whirl by me. Lena stepped away from Yuri and engulfed me in a big hug. The diamonds dripping from her ears and adorning her neck felt so cold against my skin. As of now, her ring finger remained bare, but I had a feeling Yuri would be changing that very soon.

I visited the valet station and headed outside to wait for my car. Though I had left the reception early to escape the sight of so many canoodling couples, it seemed futile now. Everywhere I looked, couples held hands, laughed, made out and whispered sweetly to one another. By the time my silver sedan rolled up to the curb, I was ready for a glass of wine and a hot shower.

After tipping the valet, I slid behind the wheel and fastened my seatbelt. Throat tight, I eased on the gas, pulled away from the hotel and tried not to think about the empty house that awaited me—and yet another long night alone.

* * *

Sergei leaned back in his chair so he could watch Bianca leave. Despite his frustration at her constant rejection, he had to admit that this view was incredibly nice. The curve-hugging dress she wore highlighted some of her very best assets. Even now, his fingertips burned with the memory of caressing her silky brown skin. He had wanted to do so much more when he slid close to her chair but he hadn't dared to push.

Every time he saw her, Bianca Bradshaw blew him away. This girl was class all the way. She managed to look so fucking sexy but without ever crossing the line into trashy or cheap. Tonight, she wore a simple and unadorned black dress that she somehow made hotter than the skimpiest lingerie. Did she have any idea how damned beautiful she was?

He bit his lower lip as he imagined what it would be like to peel that dress from her body and discover all the soft, warm delights beneath the fabric. That sweet, plump ass of hers had been made for a big man like him. Those swinging hips made him ache with desire. He imagined her straddling his lap, his hands cupping that amazing ass while her thick thighs cushioned their coupling.

He wanted her. He wanted her so badly he could fucking taste it. Since the moment he'd spied her coming into the restaurant that late December night to meet with Vivian, Sergei had been blind to every other woman on the planet.

But Bianca wanted nothing to do with him.

Watching her embrace Lena, Sergei wondered what the hell it was going to take to convince Bianca that he was dead serious about her. She wasn't a passing fascination for him. He had played the field enough in his thirty-one years to know that she was different, that what he felt for her was
real
.

He rubbed the back of his neck and remembered Vivian's warning a few months back that Bianca wouldn't go for his type. Fully aware that she had lost her brother in a senseless act of violence, he understood why Bianca shied away from men who weren't strictly on the right side of the law. Though he owned part of a successful construction business, Sergei remained firmly in Nikolai's pocket. He did whatever his boss asked of him without question—and that wasn't going to work for Bianca.

She was unlike any woman he'd ever dated. There was the obvious issue—she didn't want anything to do with him. Grudgingly, he admitted his ego had taken quite a hit over that one. He'd gotten used to women tripping over themselves to go out with him. The right glance, the right smile and a few sweetly spoken words and he was assured of a date with any woman he wanted.

But none of that worked on Bianca.

He'd always acknowledged that she was out of his league. Maybe it was time to accept that she was
too far
out of his league and would never see him as anything other than the big, dumb, mobbed-up bodyguard who watched over her friend.

"Seryozha."

Hearing Vivian call him by his childhood nickname made him smile. Over the last few months, they had grown incredibly close. He thought of her as the little sister he had never had and she had admitted to viewing him as an older brother now.

Tearing his gaze away from Bianca's backside, he glanced at Vivian and asked, "Yes, Mrs. Boss?"

She grinned at his teasing reply and waved a smartphone at him. "I think Bianca left this behind."

Nikolai snorted softly and rubbed Vivian's arm. "No, I think my wife means that she stole it out of Bianca's purse while they were hugging."

Vivian narrowed her eyes at her husband. "Stole is such a harsh word, Kolya. I
borrowed
it."

Nikolai swept his fingers along her jaw. "Because?"

"Because Bianca has some creep peeking in her windows and she's too stubborn to let anyone help her." Vivian slapped the phone down on the table. "Take it, Sergei. Ride to her rescue on your white horse. I mean—SUV."

Sergei stared at the phone Vivian had taken from Bianca. It was an underhanded trick but he was a man out of options. Before he reached for the phone, he glanced at Nikolai who gave a small nod of encouragement. Feeling a flutter of hope in his chest, he snatched up the device. "Thank you, Vivian."

She shooed him with her hands. "Well—go on. If I know Bianca, she's going to crack open a bottle of wine about twenty steps inside that front door. If you catch her after that first glass, she'll be in a good mood and might even invite you inside."

He laughed as Vivian suggestively waggled her eyebrows. "I'm not going to get my hopes up. I'll be lucky if she doesn't slam the door in my face."

"She won't."

"I wish I had your confidence."

A short time later, he drove the streets of the historic neighborhood where Bianca lived and replayed their short conversation. He couldn't believe how blasé she had been about the prowler situation. He refused to even think about this Kevan guy she had asked for help.

A police officer. Of course. A man who was everything Sergei could never be for her. The very thought of Bianca seeking aid from some other man frustrated him. He wanted to be the one she thought of when she was frightened or needed help. Hell—at this point, he would take being the man who mowed her lawn or fixed a leaky pipe!