YURI (Her Russian Protector #3) (6 page)

"Agreed." Araceli sighed heavily. "It could have been one of the bartenders up there on the VIP floor or one of the waitresses. Hell it could have been all of them. I saw the bill those guys racked up. The tip is going to be a tidy cut for the servers and bartenders to share."

"Then we haul them all in here and sweat them." Yuri slipped out of his jacket and rolled up his shirt sleeves. "I won't have this kind of subterfuge in my clubs. This is how stupid feuds begin between businesses. We nip this in the bud tonight."

Araceli's instinct proved true. Within four minutes of questioning by the tough-as-nails manager, Jeannie started to bawl like a baby and confessed the whole sordid mess. Trey had approached her about stealing the party to get back at Lena for cutting their side-deals with the hookers and drug dealers and underage kids. Jeannie had acted as the go-between with the bouncers at 716 and the VIP crew at Faze. The Faze team had turned down three major bookings for the VIP lounge to make sure they could accept the athletes bounced from 716.

Even though Yuri owned the club, he left the day-to-day operations in Araceli's capable hands. He knew what he wanted to do about the situation but he trusted her judgment. He wouldn't have hired her otherwise.

"They're gone," Araceli decided. "I'm keeping the two new waitresses because they're young and dumb and weren't brave enough to say no to this scheme but the others?" She drew a line across her neck. "I won't have my people acting like a bunch of high school kids."

"I support your decision, Araceli." He wasn't keen on keeping the two waitresses but her justification made it palatable. "I suppose it's a good thing we're closed Sunday and Monday nights."

"It won't be hard to fill the open spots."

Standing, Yuri grabbed his jacket and slung it over his shoulder. "Then I leave it in your hands."

"Are you sticking around Houston this week or are you jetting off again?"

"Sticking around," he said and headed for the door.

"I see." She said it as if she knew his secret. Maybe she did. Lena's appearance earlier and their disappearance together wouldn't have gone unnoticed by Araceli.

"Keep me updated on this." He tapped the door frame before leaving. Out in the cool fall night, he slipped into the backseat after telling his team he was ready to go home. It was a twenty-five minute drive to the sprawling estate he'd recently finished building on the outskirts of Houston. The large secluded lot sat in a gated enclave that housed a handful of obscenely wealthy Texans.

Though he had a rather swanky penthouse suite in the best building downtown, he found that he rather craved the quiet solitude of the mansion he'd built. Only a few rooms in the place were fully furnished and decorated and he still needed to hire a staff but he didn't mind. There was something peaceful about its emptiness and unfinished state.

In many ways, the house was much like him. Empty and unfinished but waiting to be filled. Where the house needed furniture and art and rugs, he needed one thing and one thing only to make his life complete—the love of a good woman.

His work cell phone started to ring. He fished the black phone from his pocket. It was Anna, his executive assistant. If she was calling this late at night, it wasn't good. "Yes?"

In fast-paced Russian, Anna laid out the problem. "Someone leaked a copy of the environmental report. There is a media firestorm over it. My contact on the planning committee says there's a good chance the pipeline approval is going to fail."

Yuri bit back a curse. The pipeline arcing across Europe was an absolute necessity. "When do they vote?"

"Tuesday morning."

He pinched the bridge of his nose. The last thing he wanted to do right now was jet off to Europe to schmooze and negotiate. "We'll leave in the morning."

"I'll send the details to you as soon as I have them."

Annoyed by this hiccup in his grand plans, Yuri pocketed his phone and rubbed his tired eyes. He'd thought this whole deal was in the bag but apparently not. No doubt this bump in the road was going to cost him but he'd be damned if it interfered with the date he'd already made with Lena. It would be a tight schedule flying over and back before Monday night but he'd make it work. For her, he didn't mind burning the jet fuel.

He used the rest of the drive to send emails to the team handling the pipeline negotiations and to study the quick itinerary Anna had dropped into his inbox. Of all the assistants he'd ever had, Anna was the only one who could keep up with him. Often, she was two steps ahead and prepared for any possibility.

He'd found her through a headhunter. She'd come highly recommended and he'd known within a few minutes that she was the new assistant he needed. Their shared language and background made it easy to work with her.

Though he'd intended to groom her for a move to a VP spot, she'd made it clear earlier that year that she enjoyed her current position and didn't want the stress or drama associated with a new job title. He'd supported her decision but still held out hope that someday she would want to make the jump into a position where he knew she would shine.

They passed through the gates guarding the enclave and turned down his private road. In the circular driveway, the car stopped near the fountain so he could exit. Jake slipped out of the front seat and trailed him up the steps. Derek remained in the SUV that had been trailing them all evening.

Stepping inside his home, Yuri braced for the arrival of Sasha. On cue, the massive bear-sized Caucasian Ovcharka let loose a rumbling bark and bounded down the long hallway. His warning growl softened at the sight of his master. He skidded to a stop and plopped down in a well-trained sitting position.

Yuri rewarded the shaggy beast with a good scratch between the ears. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Feodor, the elderly mentor who had followed him from Russia, entering the foyer. Feodor was one of the few men Sasha tolerated and the only one Yuri felt comfortable leaving in charge of the dog.

After exchanging a few words with Feodor, he said goodnight and snapped his fingers to indicate that Sasha should follow. Fully aware of the pecking order in the house, the dog followed at his heel.

With a beast so large and ferocious protecting him, Yuri required complete obedience from the dog. In Russia, the breed was used to guard the most notorious prisons but they were also incredibly loyal and protective of their owners. Yuri found peace of mind in the idea that Sasha was always nearby.

Upstairs, he passed the long gallery wall where some of his favorite paintings decorated the space. More would be shipped in from his collections in London and Moscow. He paused in front of the piece he'd commissioned from Vivian last year. The little minx had charged him a damn arm and a leg for the painting but he'd happily paid it. There was no doubt in his mind he'd made a good investment. Someday her work would command outrageous prices.

He couldn't wait to invite her over to see where he'd placed her painting. She'd get such a kick out of seeing her piece between a Basquiat and a Galán. He'd thought it rather clever to sandwich her painting between two artists who had been huge influences on her style.

Inside his bedroom, he finally relaxed and kicked off his shoes. He dropped his watch and cuff links on their trays before moving toward his bed. Exhausted, he fell back on the plush mattress and closed his eyes. Sasha walked in circles, the tags on his collar jangling together as he searched for the perfect place to plop down on his comfortable bedding in the far corner.

Visions of Lena danced before his eyes. He wasn't sure where their relationship was going but he was all right with that. He looked forward to the journey they were taking together. These things couldn't be rushed.

In time, Lena would be his.

* * *

The annoying buzz of my cell phone rattling across my bedside table jerked me out of a deep sleep. Opening one eye, I glared at my alarm clock. Oh, Jesus! It was too dang early for this nonsense.

I grabbed my phone and glanced at the screen. My father's face greeted me. He never called this early—and it scared me. "Hello?"

"
Mi'ja
?"

"Dad?"

He let loose a relieved sounding sigh. "I was worried about you. I couldn't reach you last night."

"I was working and then I had a date." His end of the line crackled. "What's wrong with your reception?"

"Oh, it's—it's nothing,
mi'ja
. Listen, if Tommy comes around, don't let him stay with you girls."

I frowned and rubbed my tired eyes. "I never let Tommy stay here. Why would I start now?"

"Good. Keep it that way."

Something in my father's tone worried me. "Is everything okay?"

"It's fine." He hesitated. "You still have that gun I bought you for your birthday?"

My gaze flitted to the top drawer where it rested. Technically, he'd only given me the money for it and the concealed carry course I'd taken. With his record, there wasn't a gun store in Texas that would sell to him. "Yes. Why?"

"Just keep it on you,
mi'ja
."

My heart thudded into my throat. "Dad, what's wrong?"

"Nothing. It's nothing. I just—I worry about you."

"Dad…"

"I have to go. I'll call you soon. I love you, Lena."

"I love you, too, Dad."

The line went dead. I stared at my phone and replayed the bizarre conversation. Despite my father's ex-con history and his current illegal line of work, he'd always been a damned good dad to me. Unlike Vivian's father who had put her in harm's way again and again, Dad had given up the drug-dealing and gun-running for a safer criminal enterprise. His fencing operation had paid for me to attend the private high school where I'd met Vivian and Erin. As much as I hated the line of work he'd chosen, I couldn't deny that it had provided certain opportunities for me.

Not wanting to get out of bed but unable to fall back asleep, I scrolled through my list of missed calls and voicemails. Tommy had called, like, a million times. What the hell had he done this time? Whatever it was I had a bad feeling he'd dragged my dad into it.

Not wanting to deal with that mess, I hit my email inbox. Apparently word of my epic flounce from 716 had already spread. There were messages of the "you go, girl!" and the "what the fuck were you thinking?" variety. I was too tired to answer any of them, and honestly, I didn't have the answers.

Checking my Twitter timeline shocked me. A message sent out by Ty Weston, Houston's society gossipmonger and the king of an international gossip empire, tagged with my name and Yuri's handle with a pic attached had gotten a hell of a lot of retweets. Stomach knotting with dread, I clicked the link—and nearly died.

There, blown up on my phone's screen, was a snapshot of Yuri kissing me. The caption killed me.
@PRPrincess giving new client @YNovakovsky that personal touch?

For the longest time, I simply stared at it. In fact, I was still staring at it when Vivian knocked on my bedroom door and stepped inside. She had her phone clutched in one hand and a mug of that cinnamon tea she loved so much in the other. From the look of her wet hair, she'd already been out for her morning run and had showered. Her gaze dropped to my phone. "I guess you've seen the photo."

"Yeah." I sat up and pushed my pillow behind my back for support. "Surely Ty had hotter gossip than me and Yuri kissing to peddle to his society page followers."

Vivian sat on the edge of my bed. "I don't know. That's a pretty hot picture."

I groaned. "This is crazy, Vee. Is this what it's going to be like if we date? Am I going to have to worry about dumbass people taking pics of us?"

"Probably." She didn’t even try to sugarcoat it for me. "The guy is a billionaire, Lena. And he's not one of those bottom-of-the-list billionaires either. Yuri is
filthy
rich. People love to gossip about sexy, wealthy men and the women they date."

"Ugh." I put my head in my hands. "I don't want everyone in my business."

"I guess you better decide if Yuri's worth the trouble."

The answer came to me instantly. "He is."

She smiled and thumped my leg through the covers. "I knew it!"

"What?"

"Last night, you were telling me you wanted to take it slow with him but I think maybe you two have been taking it slow for too long. Like glacially slow."

I started to point out that she had no business talking to me about dancing around a mutual attraction but bit my tongue. "Look, I like him. I
really
like Yuri. I just want it to go right between us."

"You want my advice? Stop thinking about everything that could go wrong. You always do that when you meet a great guy. It's like you're ready to pounce on the first thing that goes wrong so you can write him out of your life." She squeezed my foot through the duvet. "Don't let Yuri be one of those guys. He's special, Lena. I mean, he's, like,
the one
material."

I couldn’t argue with her about that. He was special. That's what scared me so much about dating him. He belonged to a world of wealth and privilege I couldn't even comprehend. What if I did something dumb? Used the wrong fork at a dinner or made some awful social gaffe that humiliated him? God, I'd just die!