Sergei (26 page)

"That's nice," she said. "Real nice."

"Bianca and I were discussing the carriage house out back, actually," he remarked. "She's going to have some contractors come in to do some different bids than the last time. She's thinking of turning it into an apartment."

"Really? To rent out?"

"Maybe," I said, not wanting to commit one way or the other yet. "I have to check the zoning rules and see what my homeowner's association says about that sort of thing first."

"Well, just make sure you can make back that investment, sugar."

"I will, Mama."

I had warned Sergei that she wouldn't like the idea of me renovating the space with her in mind so I shot him a look that said to cool it with this topic. She liked her independence and wouldn't want to feel like a burden to me even though I would have loved to have her close.

When we reached the reception hall, I noticed the way Sergei got out of the SUV and scanned the area around us with his hawkish gaze. Ever since being called away on Sunday, he had seemed so tense any time we were out in public. He hadn't told me what had happened that day, and I sure as hell hadn't been brave enough to ask, but I got the feeling it had something to do with the those white supremacist nutjobs.

Twice, he had asked me to go with him to the shooting range, but I had nixed that idea. I had seen first-hand what guns could do and wanted no part of it. I got the feeling he thought I was being naïve and unsafe, but this was one issue where I refused to bend.

One thing I had been nosy about was this business with Kelly Connolly. I had known the former bodyguard and Marine for years. He and Perry had played baseball together in high school. We had run into each other a little more than a year ago and seemed to always be bumping into each other around the city's hot spots. Vivian liked him—as a friend and nothing more—so we always made sure to invite him out when he was in town and not on assignment with Dimitri's private security firm.

Vivian had let me know about this ongoing mess with his gambling addict and drunkard father. When she told me that Kelly might possibly have to fight Sergei in the upcoming tournament, I couldn't believe it. Sergei had been reluctant to tell me the details but he had confirmed that it was true.

I didn't like it at all. Somehow not knowing the identities of the men Sergei would fight made it more palatable. Thinking of my Russian hulk beating Kelly to a pulp was just too terrible to imagine, but I harbored no illusions that Kelly could beat Sergei. My man was simply too powerful and too ruthless to lose. I worried that Kelly might get in a few good shots that could really hurt Sergei. No matter how many times he promised that he would be fine, I didn't buy it.

Breaking me free from my troubling thoughts, Sergei opened my door first and helped me down. He didn't miss the chance to caress my bottom or give it a loving pat before kissing my cheek and heading to the cargo area of his SUV to grab Mama's walker. I had wanted her to bring her wheelchair, just in case, but she seemed to be doing very well with the aid of her walker and making use of available seating.

I stood back as Sergei used those burly arms of his to gently help Mama out of the SUV. He was exceedingly patient with her and looked ready to pounce at the first sign of wobbliness on her prosthetic leg. "Are you good?"

"I'm fine, honey." Mama patted his hand. "Now give my purse to Bianca. Fuchsia just isn't your color."

"Yes, ma'am." Smiling, Sergei slipped the purse strap off his arm and held it out to me. After I had slipped the second purse on my shoulder, he took my hand and tucked it into the curve of his arm. Glad to have him with me this evening, I entered the reception hall with a grin on my face.

Our mismatched trio didn't turn nearly as many heads as I had expected. We made our way through the receiving line with only one really awkward encounter with Kevan. Mama must have sensed the weird vibe because she made a production of needing to find a seat. I was only too happy to hurry her along to our table.

We had been seated with my mother's two widowed older sisters and their two sons, both college basketball players, and their girlfriends. Shawn was pre-med and Trey was studying business. One of the girlfriends was studying fashion marketing. The other one wanted to be a lawyer.

Once the introductions were out of the way, the inevitable questions about Sergei started. He neatly replied that he worked in construction and managed to wrap up that issue. Of course, then my aunts wanted to know where he was born and why he had come to Houston. Where does your mother live? Do you have any family here? Do you go to church?

I wanted to crawl under the table and hide. Sergei took it all in stride and seemed only too happy to chat them up. In the same way he had impressed my mother, he won over my Aunt Sara and Aunt Penny. I didn't miss the shy yet flirty smiles from the two girlfriends across the tables. Something about Trey and Shawn's looks had me suspicious.

Did they know what Sergei really was? Had they seen him fight perhaps? In the last week, I had done a little digging and learned that there was heavy betting action from the universities in town. Vivian had informed me that select frats had exclusive invites to the matches because most of the members had such deep pockets. The thought of Trey and Shawn betting their hard-earned money on fights didn’t make me happy. Maybe I needed to chat with the two of them later…

Although this wedding reception wasn’t anywhere near as rowdy as Erin and Ivan's, it was still a beautiful evening. The food, the flowers, the cake, the band—everything was top-notch. When the dance floor opened after the first and parent dances had been completed, Sergei leaned over and cupped my face in his massive hand. "You owe me a dance,
milaya moya
."

"Yes, I suppose I do."

Sergei led me out to the packed floor and held me close. The differences in our heights made things interesting. I considered dragging over a chair to stand on so I could rest my cheek to his shoulder. Glancing around, I noticed that quite a few of the men in attendance tonight were tall with shorter dates. None of them were as big as Sergei, but then, he seemed to be a true one-of-a-kind.

After a few dances with me, Sergei found himself dancing with Aunt Sara and Aunt Penny. He was a good sport about it, even when Aunt Sara got a little tipsy from all that champagne and pinched his taut backside. I thought poor Trey was going to fall out of his chair when he spotted his mother getting so fresh.

"Eye bleach," Trey said and shoved out of his chair. "I've got to find me some eye bleach." Slapping his hand against Sergei's back, he said, "Man, come on. Let's take a break from this estrogen-fest, okay?"

When Sergei glanced at me to see if I minded, I waved my hand. I had a feeling he needed the escape and would enjoy meeting some more male members of my family. He had been such a doting date all afternoon and evening and had earned some free time. I doubted he would have found the conversation at the table very interesting anyhow.

Alone with my gossiping aunts and mother, I sipped some champagne and watched the dance floor. My gaze landed on Kevan who danced unsteadily with a woman I didn't recognize. He had clearly had too much to drink. I wondered why none of the groomsmen had cut him off and put him in a corner to sober up with some coffee.

Kevan rudely groped the breast of the woman he danced with, and she rightfully slapped at his hand. I waited to see if someone would save him from himself, but no one stepped forward. He wandered off the dance floor and disappeared from my view. I had a feeling he was going to get himself into trouble. Should I chase him down and see if he needed a ride home?

"I like this one, Bianca."

My Aunt Penny's remark interrupted my thoughts. Not sure what she meant, I asked, "Ma'am?"

"Sergei," she said with a lift of her chin in his direction. "He's sweet as pie."

"Well, I don't know about that." Would she say the same thing if I told her he made his living enforcing for the Russian mob?

"I know," Aunt Penny replied confidently. "I can tell a good man when I see one. That one? He's good all the way through."

"And handsome!" Aunt Sara commented with an envious sigh. "He'll make some beautiful babies with you, Bianca."

"Oh, sweet Lord!" Laughing, I put up both hands and rose from my seat. "On that note, I'm out of here. Mama, do you want some cake?"

"No, honey."

Leaving my two aunts and my mother cackling together, I shook my head and made my way along the edge of the dance floor to the cake station. I recognized the delicate sugar flowers as the work of a baker I respected and anticipated the first bite of her perfectly moist and not too sweet Italian cream cake.

Plate in hand, I turned to leave the table—and slammed right into Kevan. Somehow I managed not to get cake on either one of us. "Kevan! Whoa!"

"Sorry, Bibi." His sour beer breath wafted over me, and he leered at my chest. "You look real pretty tonight."

"Thanks, Kevan. Um—how much have you had to drink?"

He flapped his hand. "It's okay. I can't get into trouble for drinking."

"Because you have a designated driver?" I asked hopefully.

He puffed out his chest. "Nope. Because I've got a badge! There's nothing I can't get away with," he stated proudly. "Just you wait and see!"

I didn't like the sound of that at all. "Kevan, I don't know what you're planning to do with all that super police power of yours, but it had better not be something that hurts me."

His expression turned angry. "You hurt me."

"How?"

"You broke up with me."

"Really, Kevan? What are we? Fifteen? Adults stop dating all the time. It's not like we were serious."

"Maybe you weren't, but I was." His voice rose in pitch and volume as he got more agitated. In his drunken state, I didn't know what he would say so I decided to carefully extricate myself from the situation.

"Well, I'm sorry I wasn't more clear when we started dating, Kevan. I never meant to hurt you, but I wasn't looking for anything serious."

Holding my cake plate to the side, I stepped around him and headed back toward the table where my mother was now watching me with concern. Unfortunately, my plan to escape Kevan without causing a scene didn't work. He followed close behind me, running his mouth and drawing unwanted attention.

"But you're looking for something serious now, huh? With
him
?" He snarled angrily. "What's he got that I don't, huh?"

I didn't touch that one. No, I kept my eyes forward and my feet moving.
Please, just turn around and go back to your friends
.

"I thought you were something special, Bibi. I thought you were worth waiting for, but now I realize that you're just a no-good slut."

The last word echoed in the reception hall. The music had lowered to a mere whisper as the DJ had been preparing to make an announcement of some kind so just about every freaking person in the ballroom heard my ex-boyfriend call me that awful, ugly name.

Amid the gasps of outrage, I saw my mother pushing herself out of her seat to give Kevan a piece of her mind. My aunts were right behind her. Trey and Shawn were striding across the dance floor with pissed off expressions. Hoping to head off a fight that would only ruin the bride's night, I turned to tell Kevan to take it outside—but I was too late.

From heaven only knew where, Sergei had swept in behind Kevan. He tapped the police officer on the shoulder. "Hey."

Kevan's face registered the recognition of Sergei's deep voice. Whirling around with his fist raised, he swung at Sergei. It was such a dumb move. With the ease of a seasoned fighter, Sergei reared back and popped Kevan right in the face. Kevan's head snapped back—and he dropped like a sack of freaking rocks.

Jaw dropped, I stared at Sergei.
Holy. Shit.

And then all hell broke loose. People were clapping and shouting and whistling. The bride started caterwauling as Corey rushed to defend his friend. Two of the groomsmen joined him, but Sergei held up a warning finger. Over the noise of the crowd, he calmly warned, "You three had better think twice before you come at me, because I can do that all night long. No one talks to Bianca like that, understand?"

The groom nodded. "Yeah, man. I get it." Staring down at Kevan, he shook his head. "He overstepped the line. He had this one coming."

Although Corey had diffused the situation, the bride demanded we be thrown out of the reception. I didn't blame my cousin Lulu for wanting us out of her celebration. Even so, it was embarrassing as hell to be tossed out like that. As Sergei helped my mother into his SUV, I kept glancing around, half-expecting the police to pull up at any moment to arrest him for assault.

There were only a handful of words spoken between Sergei and Mama on the drive back to her apartment. I sat in the backseat, stared out the window and tried to sort out my conflicted feelings. As the shock of seeing Sergei flatten Kevan began to fade, I grew increasingly more upset. Having someone call me a slut in front of hundreds of my family and friends was beyond humiliating. I hated to think what they were all saying about me right now.

And Sergei? What were they saying about him? Knowing my two loud-mouthed cousins, Trey and Shawn were probably spinning all sorts of stories about him. Corey and Kevan's friends were all police officers. No doubt they were running Sergei's name right now and finding out all the sordid details of his life to spread around the wedding. By this time tomorrow, he would probably have a reputation that included three stints in the federal pen, a murder rap and outstanding international warrants!