YURI (Her Russian Protector #3) (2 page)

When I drew close enough, Danny grabbed my upper arm. Fear punched my gut as the painful clutch registered. I tried to wrench free but he grabbed me even harder. Before I could even recover from the shock of being manhandled like that, Danny pivoted and jerked me behind him. I stumbled forward and barely managed to regain my footing as he dragged me through the crowd to a private door. He hauled me into the hallway that led to his office.

"Let go of me!" I pried my arm free from his painful grasp and shoved at his chest. He lurched backward and slammed into the wall. As he glared at me, I rubbed the spot where my arm throbbed. "Don't you ever put your hands on me again!"

"I own you, Lena. This club made your career. I'll put my hands wherever the hell I want."

"Try it, Danny. I'll have you in handcuffs." My nose wrinkled at the scent of alcohol spilling out of his mouth. "You're drunk."

"And you're fucking pathetic. What the hell do I pay you for, Lena? Where's the party you promised me? Huh? Lately, you're all promises but no follow through." Sneering, he hissed, "You're like a high-priced whore who never gets wet. I can fuck you but it won't be any good."

I reeled back in shock at his ugly remark. It wasn't the first time he'd said something that gross to me. He had a reputation for being a real asshole but I'd learned to deal with him. Working PR for the hottest nightspots necessitated a thick skin. In this line of work, I'd grown accustomed to dealing with the verbal abuse and blatant sexual harassment. If it wasn't the club owners, it was the high rollers with their grabby hands or the musicians who thought every woman wanted to flop on her back or drop to her knees.

I always told myself that it was going to be the last time I let someone talk to me like that but the fear of losing my job, of getting knocked off the career ladder I'd fought so damn hard to climb, stopped me. A childhood living hand to mouth had left me craving the security of a steady paycheck.

But this time I'd had enough. I was better than this.

"I don't have to take this shit."

"You walk out of here and I'll make sure the firm shit-cans you. By the time I'm done telling everyone how you've ruined my club, you'll be lucky to get hired by one of the airport titty bars."

"How
I
ruined your club?" Irritated, I shouted, "I saved your liquor license by kicking out the hookers and the high school kids and the drug dealers. I brought in a new and better crowd flush with cash—but you got greedy.
You
ruined this place." I put up my hands. "I'm so over this, Danny. I'm done."

"I'll tell you when you're done!"

Rolling my eyes at his empty threat, I stormed to the door and out of the club. With every step I took, I felt the constriction in my chest ease. For weeks now, I'd been carrying around the stress of this hellhole. It was going to kill me.

After my coworker had stolen my ideas and jumped ship to work on Faze's dedicated PR team, my boss at the firm had handed me the full reins of 716. Basically, he'd given me a cup to bail out a sinking ship.

Danny was increasingly erratic and the bouncers headed by Bobby were impossible to work alongside. The bartenders were gaining a reputation for watering down drinks and substituting cheap booze for the good stuff. I had a hell of a time booking DJs after a bloody brawl broke out in the VIP area because a certain DJ and a local rap star had gotten into it over some girl. I'd specifically warned Danny against booking them both at the same time but did he listen to me?

Out on the sidewalk, I ignored the catcalls from Trey and stalked to the corner in search of a cab. I didn't doubt that Danny would follow through on his threat to get me fired. I'd been walking a fine line at the firm as it was. This would be the last straw for my boss.

He'd been riding my ass for the last week about taking side jobs on my own time. There was nothing in my contract that said I couldn't have outside clients but that didn't stop him from accusing me of putting my own interests before the firm's. It was a bald-faced lie, of course. In the last month, I'd averaged seventy-eight hours a week for my firm clients. Not a single one of them complained about the quality of my work. As always, I received high marks and maintained my standards, even if I was running on caffeine fumes.

A cab pulled up to the curb, and I hopped into the backseat. I met the cab driver's gaze in the rearview mirror. "Where you going, sweetheart?"

God, wasn't that the question of the night! Where the hell was I going? Where was my life going? My career? I didn't have any idea and it scared me. Feeling impotent and confused, I could think of only one place. "Take me to Faze."

"The night club?"

"Yes."

I had a score to settle with Yuri Novakovsky.

* * *

Kicked back in the private section of his Houston night club, Yuri closed his eyes and relaxed. It had been one hell of a week. For the last year, he'd been putting together a pipeline project that would carry gas from the plants he owned in Russia to a spider web system that covered Europe. In the last month, tiny problems continued to crop up with what should have been an easy deal. Every time he put out one fire, another seemed to spark into a raging inferno.

Despite the stress of it all, he wouldn’t trade his life for anything. He'd reached a pinnacle of success most men could only dream of and he'd done it all before reaching forty. He'd come from nothing—less than nothing—and soared to an echelon of wealth so astronomically high that there were only a handful of people in the entire world who could call themselves his peers.

But all the money in the world couldn't buy what he wanted most.

Oh, he had the yachts and the cars and the houses and the night clubs. With one call, he could have a private jet fueled and in the air to any continent he desired. Wherever he went, gorgeous women practically threw themselves at him—and he'd sampled quite a few of them.

But the one he really wanted didn't see him.

Once, he'd stupidly believed there were no doors his money couldn't open. Now Yuri knew better. There was one door that no amount of money in the world could ever unlock and it was the one door he desperately wanted to open.

"Sir?"

Lost in his thoughts, Yuri hadn't noticed his bodyguard, Derek, approach. "Yes?"

"Big V wants you to know he just let Miss Cruz through the front door. You said you wanted to be informed anytime she visited the club."

Though he schooled his expression and stayed cool and reserved on the outside, Yuri experienced a surge of excitement. His heartbeat sprinted at the idea of seeing her again. She hadn't ever come to his club alone. Usually it was Erin who dragged her along. Why had she come here tonight?

A flutter of hope invaded his chest but he batted it away quickly. If there was one thing he'd learned about Lena Cruz, it was that she was never predictable.

"Bring her to me, Derek."

"Yes, sir."

After his bodyguard left, Yuri rose from his comfortable perch and moved to the balcony overlooking the dance floor. His searching gaze zeroed in on Lena. Even at this distance, she knocked the air right out of his lungs.

Tonight she wore a curve-hugging dress. The pale turquoise skirt and black strapless top outlined her sexy shape perfectly. Waves of dark hair tumbled around her bare shoulders. She managed to meld together the perfect mix of flirty but classy.

Like him, the men on the dance floor couldn't keep their eyes off her. A few guys tried to dance up against her but she froze them in place with that icy glare. In his entire life, Yuri had known only one other person who could send people fleeing with one look—and that was Nikolai. He knew exactly how Nikolai had developed that particular talent but Lena was more of a mystery to him.

Jake, his other bodyguard, got close to Lena. He whispered in her ear and gestured to the private VIP section. Her gaze jumped to the balcony. Instead of the smile he'd hoped to see, Yuri received only a frown. Anger glinted in her dark eyes. Something told him this wasn't going to be a conversation he was going to enjoy.

Steeled for the worst, he backed away from the railing. If there had been more time, he would have ordered a stiff drink. His gut clenched with nervousness. When was the last time any woman had affected him like this?

Lena stepped through the gauzy curtain separating this private section from the rest of the VIP area. God, but she was even prettier this close. His gaze drifted to those red, pouty lips of hers. What he wouldn't give for the chance to claim them just once!

"I thought we were friends, Yuri."

Frowning, he insisted, "We are."

"Are we?" She took another step toward him. Finger raised, she jabbed at the air between them. "When you found out how Harry stole my ideas and used them to get hired by your company, you promised me you were going to let him go. You swore to me that you didn't like to do dirty business."

"I did let him go, and I don't like dirty business dealings."

"Bullshit!" She angrily gestured over her shoulder. "I just walked through a VIP room packed with the party I arranged for 716. Someone at your club paid one of the bouncers at 716 to switch out the priority wristbands so my party would be turned away at the door and come here. That's so shady, Yuri."

He had no idea what she was talking about but believed her version of the tale. She'd never given him any reason to doubt her. "It is," he agreed. "But I didn't have anything to do with it."

"It's your club, Yuri. I realize you're just the money behind the venture but you set the tone for the employees. If they think they can get away with these kinds of tricks, they will."

"I'm sorry. I'll look into it." He could see how upset she was about being sabotaged. "Let me make it right. How much money did 716 lose tonight?"

Her jaw tensed. "I don't want your damn money, Yuri. That's not why I came here."

"Why did you come here?"

"I…" Lena's voice trailed off and her shoulders slumped. He witnessed the fight leave her and wondered what the hell she'd been through tonight. Rubbing her forehead, she dropped her gaze and shook her head. "I just couldn't take it anymore. I had to get out of that place and then I got out to the cab and I was just so angry. I wanted to come here and shout at you and tell you off for sabotaging me but—of course—you had to be totally reasonable. Why do you always have to be so damn perfect?"

He didn't know how to respond to that accusation. Desperate to lighten the tense mood, he joked, "It's a gift."

She snorted indelicately and wiped at her cheeks. When she lifted her face, Yuri's heart stuttered. Tears shimmered in her dark eyes and dripped onto her cheeks. Taken aback by her unusual display of emotion, he crossed the distance between them in three long strides. "
Yelena
."

He stopped when there were only a few inches between them. Her perfume, that breezy scent that he'd always associate with her, called to him. He wanted to slide his arms around her and gather her close but he hesitated.

Not wanting to make her uncomfortable, he reached inside his jacket and withdrew a handkerchief. She didn't fight him when he dabbed at the wet trails on her cheeks. Looking up at him through those thick eyelashes, Lena presented such an enticing picture. He fought the urge to tip her chin and claim that sensual mouth of hers.

"I'm sorry." She dropped her gaze in embarrassment. "I shouldn't have come here. Now I'm acting like a hot mess."

"You're not," he assured her. "I'm glad you came to me." Realizing this was the chance he'd been waiting for, he snatched it. "Let's get out of here. Let's find a quiet place to talk."

Her lips parted almost immediately and he tensed in anticipation of a rejection. She stunned him by agreeing with a little nod. "Okay. Let's go."

Hope flared to life deep inside him. The night was young and anything could happen now.

Chapter Two

I still couldn't quite believe I was sitting in the backseat of one of Yuri's ridiculously expensive private cars. The sexy as sin Russian billionaire sat mere inches from me. His body heat amplified the subtle citrus notes of his cologne. The seductive scent matched his personality.

Try as I might, I couldn't deny my attraction to Yuri. He got under my skin in a way no man ever had. I was really starting to understand what Erin and Benny meant when they described the instant attraction to their Russian hunks. Like his best friends Ivan and Dimitri, Yuri possessed that striking ability to be both commanding and incredibly alpha without being controlling or overbearing.

It infuriated me. I desperately wanted a reason
not
to like him. He presented too many challenges. Yuri was used to buying what he wanted and I was so not
that
girl. I'd worked hard to get an education and make it on my own. I sure as heck didn't need a sugar daddy in my life who thought he could keep me happy by buying me nice things.

Yet here I was, driving through the busy streets of Houston on a Saturday night with him.
What the hell are you doing
?